Toxin (11 page)

Kim took a deep breath. “That prig condescendingly accused me of demanding special treatment when my sick child has been waiting for two and a half hours.”

David stared at Kim for a beat. He was mystified at such behavior from a colleague. “What's the child's name?” he asked.

“Rebecca Reggis,” Kim said.

David turned to the clerk and asked for Rebecca's sign-in sheet. The clerk fumbled through the stack.

“Are you really on staff here at the University Med Center?” David asked while he waited for the sheet.

“Since the merger,” Kim said. “I'm one of the cardiac surgeons, although you'd never know it the way I've been treated here in the ER.”

“We do the best we can,” David said.

“Yeah, I've heard that excuse several times tonight,” Kim said.

David eyed Kim again. “You know, you should be ashamed of yourself,” he said. “Punching people out, smashing letter boxes. You're acting like some malcontent teenager.”

“Screw you,” Kim said.

“For the moment I'm going to chalk that remark up to stress,” David said.

“Don't be patronizing,” Kim said.

“Here it is,” the clerk said. He handed the sign-in sheet to David.

David glanced at it, then looked at his watch. “At least you're right about the time. It's been close to three hours. That's certainly no justification for your behavior, but it's too long to wait.”

David looked at Tracy. “Are you Mrs. Reggis?” he asked.

“I'm Rebecca Reggis's mother,” Tracy said.

“Why don't you get the young lady. I'll personally see to it she's seen immediately.”

“Thank you,” Tracy said. She hurried out to the waiting room.

David went behind the desk to get a clipboard for the sign-in sheet. He also used the intercom to get a nurse to come out. When he reemerged, Tracy was back with Becky in tow. A moment later a nurse appeared. Her name tag identified her as Nicole Michaels.

“How are you feeling, young lady?” David asked Becky.

“Not too good,” Becky admitted. “I want to go home.”

“I'm sure you do,” David said. “But first let's check you out. Why don't you go ahead with Nicole. She'll get you situated in one of the examination cubicles.”

Tracy, Becky, and Kim started forward. David reached out to restrain Kim.

“I'd prefer that you wait out here, if you don't mind,” David said.

“I'm going with my daughter,” Kim stated.

“No, you are not,” David said. “You've proved yourself emotionally stressed. You're acting like a loose cannon.”

Kim hesitated. As much as he didn't want to admit it, David had a point. Still, it was irritating and demeaning.

“Come on, Doctor,” David said. “Surely you understand.”

Kim cast a glance at the receding image of Becky and Tracy. He looked back at David, who was not about to be intimidated, physically or otherwise.

“But . . .” Kim began.

“No buts,” David said. “Don't make me call the police, which I'll do if you don't cooperate.”

Reluctantly Kim turned around and walked back to the waiting room. There were no seats, so he leaned up against the wall by the entrance. He tried to watch the television but couldn't concentrate. He raised his hand and looked at it; he was trembling.

A half hour later Tracy and Becky emerged from the treatment area. It was by chance that Kim happened to see them as they pushed through the exit door. They were leaving without even having tried to find him.

Kim quickly gathered his coat and gloves and hurried after them. He caught up to them just as Tracy was helping Becky climb into the car.

“What are you going to do?” Kim demanded. “Just ignore me?”

Tracy didn't say anything. She shut the door behind Becky and then walked around to the driver's-side door.

Kim followed and put his hand on the door to keep it from opening.

“Please, don't cause any more trouble,” Tracy said. “You've already embarrassed both of us.”

Taken aback by this new and unexpected affront, Kim took his hand away. Tracy got into the car. She reached for the door but then didn't close it. She looked up into Kim's surprised and hurt face. “Go home and get some sleep,” she said. “That's what we're going to do.”

“What happened in there?” Kim asked. “What did they say?”

“Not much,” Tracy reported. “Apparently her blood count and electrolytes, whatever they are, are fine. I'm supposed to give her broth and other fluids and lay off the dairy products.”

“Is that all?” Kim asked.

“That's it,” Tracy said. “But, by the way, they said the culprit could very well have been Ginger's chicken. They see a lot of food poisoning secondary to chicken.”

“It wasn't,” Kim shot back. “No way! Ask Becky! She was feeling sick the morning before the chicken.” Kim leaned over to talk directly to his daughter. “Isn't that right, Pumpkin?”

“I want to go home,” Becky said, staring out through the windshield.

“Good night, Kim,” Tracy said. She pulled the door shut, started the car, and drove away.

Kim watched the car until it had disappeared behind the corner of the hospital. Only then did he start walking toward the doctors' parking area. He felt alone, more alone than he'd ever felt in his life.

Tuesday, January 20
th

T
he OR door burst open, and Kim and Tom entered the scrub area outside OR number 20. As they did so, they untied their face masks and let them drop down over their chests. They rinsed off the talc from their hands.

“Hey, thanks for lending a hand on such short notice,” Tom said.

“Glad to help,” Kim said flatly.

The two men started walking up the corridor toward the recovery room.

“You seem down in the dumps,” Tom said. “What happened? Did your accountant just call you about your bottom line in response to the new Medicare reimbursement rates?”

Kim didn't laugh. He didn't respond at all.

“Are you all right?” Tom asked, seriously this time.

“I suppose,” Kim said without emotion. “Just a lot of aggravation.” Kim then told Tom what had happened in the ER the night before.

“Whoa!” Tom commented when Kim was finished. “What a God awful experience! But don't be down on yourself for taking a poke at that Barclay Bradford character. I had a mini run-in with him myself. Administrators! You know, I read in a journal last night that in the United States there's currently one administrator for every one and a half doctors or nurses. Can you believe that?”

“Yeah, I can,” Kim said. “That's a big part of why our healthcare costs are so high.”

“That was exactly the point of the article,” Tom said. “But anyway, I can understand why you popped Bradford. If it had been me, I know I would have been bullshit. Three hours! Hell, I'd a punched him out as a minimum.”

“Thanks, Tom,” Kim said. “I appreciate your support. But the worst part of the whole episode is that after all that wait and aggravation, I never got a chance to talk with the doctor who examined Becky.”

“How's she doing today?”

“I don't know yet,” Kim said. “It was too early for me to call when I got up, and Tracy hasn't called me. But she's got to be doing better. Her bloodwork was fine, and she's been afebrile.”

“Dr. Reggis!” a voice called.

Kim turned to see Deborah Silverman, the OR head nurse, beckoning toward him. Kim detoured to the OR desk.

“Dr. Biddle called while you were in surgery,” Deborah said. “He left a message for you to stop into his office as soon as you were out.”

Kim took the message slip. It was punctuated with a number of exclamation points. Apparently it was serious.

“Uh-oh!” Tom commented over Kim's shoulder.
“Sounds to me like the chief is planning on adding to your aggravation.”

Kim and Tom parted ways at the recovery-room door. Kim went into the surgical locker room. Despite the implied urgency of Forrester Biddle's message, Kim took his time. It wasn't hard to guess what Forrester wanted to see him about. The problem was that after a point, Kim wasn't sure he understood his own behavior.

Kim took a shower and mulled over in his mind the previous evening's experience. He didn't reach any epiphany beyond admitting he'd been unduly stressed. After dressing in a clean set of scrubs, Kim used the phone in the surgical lounge to call Ginger at the office to discuss the afternoon schedule. Only then did he make his way over to the chief's office in the administration wing.

Dr. Forrester Biddle was the quintessential New England conservative. He had the gaunt look of a Puritan preacher and the acerbic personality to go with it. His only redeeming quality was that he was an excellent surgeon.

“Come in and close the door,” Forrester said as Kim stepped into his cramped, journal-filled office. “Take a seat.”

Kim sat down. Forrester made him wait while some paperwork was being completed. Kim's eyes roamed the room. Kim noted he'd had a much better office as chief over at the Samaritan.

After adding his signature with a flourish, Forrester slapped down his pen on his desk top so that it sounded like a distant report of a firearm.

“I'll get right to the point,” he said, assuming an expression more stern than usual. “Your behavior last night in the emergency room is an embarrassment to this department as well as to the entire medical staff.”

“My daughter was in pain,” Kim said simply. It was an explanation not an excuse. He was not inclined to sound remorseful.

“There's no excuse for violence,” Forrester remarked. “Mr. Bradford is considering filing charges, and I wouldn't blame him if he did.”

“If anybody gets sued it should be AmeriCare,” Kim said. “I waited over three hours mostly so that AmeriCare can maximize profits.”

“Assaulting an administrator is no way to make social commentary,” Forrester said. “Nor, I might add, is appealing directly to the media. I wasn't going to say anything about your quote Kelly Anderson gave during the Friday night news until this inexcusable episode of battery. Saying publicly that the rationale for the merger of the University Medical Center and the Samaritan was to benefit AmeriCare's bottom line hurts the reputation of this hospital.”

Kim stood up. The meeting was not going to be a discussion, and there was no way Kim would sit there and absorb reprimands like a delinquent schoolboy. “If that's all, I have patients to see.”

Forrester pushed his chair back and stood up as well. “I think you should keep in mind, Dr. Reggis,” he said, “this department seriously considered hiring a full-time, salaried surgeon to cover your area of valve replacement prior to the merger. Your behavior of late is making us reevaluate that issue.”

Kim turned around and left without responding. He wasn't about to validate such a comment. It was hardly the threat that Forrester intended. In reality Kim was being repeatedly recruited to take over a number of prestigious departments around the country. The only reason he was still at the University Medical Center was because
of shared custody of Becky and the fact that Tracy couldn't move because of her matriculation in the liberal arts college.

But Kim was again angry. Of late it seemed to be his constant state of mind. Striding out of the administrative area of the hospital, he practically ran head-on into Kelly Anderson and her cameraman, Brian.

“Ah!” Kelly squealed with apparent delight. “Dr. Reggis! Just the man I've been hoping to see.”

Kim flashed a nasty glance at the TV journalist and continued down the corridor at a brisk pace. Kelly reversed directions and ran after him. Brian kept pace despite his burden of equipment.

“My God, Dr. Reggis,” Kelly panted. “Are you in training for a marathon? Slow down. I need to talk with you.”

“I've no intention of talking with you,” Kim said.

“But I want to hear your side of last night's ER episode,” Kelly said.

Kim pulled up short, forcing Brian to collide with him. Brian apologized effusively. Kim ignored him and peered at Kelly in surprise. “How in God's name did you hear about that and so quickly?”

“Surprised you, huh!” Kelly remarked with a sly, self-satisfied smile. “But I'm sure you understand that I can't reveal my sources. You see, I do so many medical-related stories that I've developed a kind of fifth column here at the med center. You'd be surprised about the gossip I get. Unfortunately it's usually as prosaic as who's screwing whom. But once in a while, I get a real tip, like your episode in the ER last night. Cardiac surgeon punches out administrator: that's news!”

“I don't have anything to say to you,” Kim responded. He recommenced walking.

Kelly caught up to him. “Ah, but I think you do,” she said. “Having to wait three hours in an emergency room with a sick child must have been a major aggravation that I'd love to discuss.”

“Too bad,” Kim said. “Among other things I was just reprimanded for giving you that bottom-line quote. I'm not talking with you.”

“So the administration hates the truth,” Kelly said. “That in itself is interesting.”

“I'm not talking to you,” Kim repeated. “You might as well save your breath.”

“Oh, come on!” Kelly said. “Your having to wait hours to be seen in the emergency room will strike a familiar chord with my viewers, especially with the ironic twist that it's a doctor doing the waiting. We don't even have to discuss the assault and battery part if you don't want.”

“Yeah, sure, as if I could trust you,” Kim said.

“You can,” Kelly said. “You see, I think having to wait so long relates to the merger story. I believe it has something to do with AmeriCare's interest in profits. What do you think?”

Kim looked at Kelly as they walked. Her bright blue-green eyes sparkled. Kim had to admit that although she was a pain in the neck, she was also smart as a whip.

“You said it, not me,” Kim remarked. “So no quotes. My life right now is sufficiently screwed up that I don't need you to make it worse. Goodbye, Miss Anderson.”

Kim went through a pair of swinging doors leading back into the operating area. Kelly pulled to a stop to the relief of Brian. Both were out of breath.

“Well, we tried,” Kelly said. “The sad irony is that this time I'm sincerely sympathetic. A month ago I had to
wait almost the same amount of time with my own daughter.”

 

K
im entered his office complex by the back door. It gave him a chance to get into his private office without having to go through the waiting room. As he struggled out of his suit jacket he picked up his phone and got Ginger at the reception desk.

“I'm back,” Kim said. With the receiver caught in the crook of his neck, he walked over to his closet. The telephone wire was just long enough.

“You've got a waiting-room full of patients,” Ginger said. “Thanks to Tom's emergency surgery, you're about two hours behind schedule.”

“Any phone messages of import?” Kim asked. He managed to get his jacket hung up and grabbed his short white doctor's jacket.

“Nothing that can't wait,” Ginger said.

“No calls from Tracy?”

“No,” Ginger said.

“Okay, have Cheryl start moving the patients into the examining rooms,” Kim said.

After slipping on the white jacket and collecting the pens and other paraphernalia he kept in his pockets, Kim dialed Tracy's number. While the call went through, he draped his stethoscope around his neck.

Tracy answered on the first ring as if she were right next to the phone.

“Well, how's the patient doing?” Kim asked. He tried to sound upbeat.

“Not a lot of change,” Tracy said.

“Any fever?”

“No.”

“How about cramps?” Kim asked.

“Some,” Tracy said. “But I was able to get her to take some chicken broth.”

Kim was tempted to say that Ginger had tried to get her to eat chicken broth on Sunday, but then he thought better of it. Instead he said: “It sounds like you're making progress. I'll bet Becky will be feeling herself in no time.”

“I certainly hope so,” Tracy said.

“It stands to reason,” Kim said. “With no fever and no elevated white count, her body's obviously handled the infection. But keep me posted, okay?”

“I will,” Tracy said. Then she added: “I'm sorry if I was mean last night.”

“You don't have to apologize,” Kim said.

“I feel I said some nasty things,” Tracy said. “I was very upset.”

“Please,” Kim said. “I was the one out of line, not you.”

“I'll call if there's any change,” Tracy said.

“I'll either be here or at home,” Kim said.

Kim hung up the phone. For the first time all day he felt relatively content. Walking out into the corridor, he smiled at Cheryl and took the first chart.

 

W
hen Kim turned off the headlights of his car in front of his garage door, he found himself in pitch dark. It was only eight o'clock, but it could have been midnight. There was no moon, and the only light was a slight smudge on the eastern horizon, where the city lights reflected off the low cloud cover. The house was so dark it appeared like a hunk of rock.

Kim opened the car door, and the interior lights came on. That gave him an opportunity to collect the cartons of Chinese takeout he'd picked up on the way back from his office. The last patient had left at seven-fifteen.

With his arms full of food containers and paperwork he hoped to complete that evening, Kim made his way from the driveway toward the front door. He had to move by feel along the flagstone walkway. As dark as it was, it was difficult to comprehend that during the summer at that very time of the evening, the sun would have still been in the sky.

Kim heard his phone even before he got to the door. It was jangling insistently in the darkness. Without knowing why, Kim felt a stab of panic. In the process of getting his keys out, he dropped the paperwork. Then he couldn't find the right key, which forced him to put down the food cartons so that he could use both hands. Finally he got the door open and rushed inside.