Word: adrenalinized
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...almost unreal. This is how it went: At the start, a poor Bronx childhood, dropout from school, succession of odd jobs and petty thieving. Then Lahr tries burlesque just for fun and is hooked ("I would have done 20 shows a day. It was like a shot of -dope? Adrenalin?"). He rises to vaudeville, lives with and eventually marries his act partner, reaches Broadway while at home his wife is going insane ("She laughed at me, John. Laughed when I was making love to her"). Reluctantly, Lahr has her committed, almost simultaneously scores a smash hit in his first book...
Despite a bandaged knee and a brace on his ribs, Dowd is hungry for Saturday's battle. "Once the adrenalin starts flowing," he says, "you don't feel anything...
Hollow-Nosed Slugs. With Ethel by his side, Kennedy was taken first to nearby Central Receiving Hospital, where doctors could only keep him alive by cardiac massage and an injection of Adrenalin, and alert the better-equipped Good Samaritan Hospital to prepare for delicate brain surgery. As if there were not already enough grim echoes of Dallas and Parkland Hospital, the scene at Central Receiving was degraded by human perversity. A too-eager news photographer tried to barge in and got knocked to the floor by Bill Barry. A guard attempted to keep both a priest and Ethel away from...
Central Receiving doctors hooked Kennedy up to a respirator and an external-cardiac-massage machine. Bazilauskas gave him oxygen and an injection of Adrenalin to stimulate his heart, and Holt started a transfusion. Kennedy's heart began pumping. With a respirator fitted to his face, he was rushed to Good Samaritan Hospital, where a team of doctors headed by Neurosurgeon Henry Cuneo of the University of Southern California School of Medicine scrubbed and made ready. Cuneo, who was assisted by fellow Neurosurgeons Nat Downs Reid of U.S.C. and U.C.L.A.'s Maxwell Andler Jr., had performed hundreds of brain operations...
...grab him. I yell let that cop go, partly because I feel sorry for the cop and partly because I know that the nightsticks will start to flagellate on our heads, which indeed they do. One of my friends goes down and I pull him out. He's on adrenalin now and tries to get back at the cops but I hold him, because I hit a cop at Whitehall and I wished I hadn't very shortly thereafter. After the usual hassle order is restored and the cops let Rudd mount a dirt pile to address us. As soon...