by Robin Cook
“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.”
Kim 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.
When 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.
With the help of the foyer light, Kim dashed into the cavernous, mostly empty living room and answered the phone. He was irrationally terrified that whoever was calling would hang up before the connection went through. But it didn’t happen. It was Tracy.
“She’s worse,” Tracy blurted. She sounded desperate and on the verge of tears.
“What’s happened?” Kim demanded as his heart skipped a beat.
“She hemorrhaged,” Tracy cried. “The toilet’s full of blood.”
“Is she lucid?” Kim asked quickly.
“Yes,” Tracy said. “She’s calmer than I am. She’s on the couch.”
“Can she walk?” Kim asked. “Is she dizzy?”
“She can walk okay,” Tracy said, getting more in control of herself. “I’m glad you answered the phone. I was about to call 911.”
“Get her into the car and back to the ER,” Kim said. “Provided you think you can drive okay. Otherwise, we can call 911 for an ambulance.”
“I can drive fine,” Tracy said.
“I’ll meet you there,” Kim said. He hung up the phone. Then he raced into the library and tore open the central drawer of his desk. Roughly he searched through the contents, looking for his address book. When he found it, he opened it to the T’s and ran his finger down until he came to George Turner. Taking out his cell phone, he entered the number and pressed SEND.
With the phone pressed to his ear, Kim retraced his route to the car. He stepped over the Chinese takeout, leaving the cartons and the paperwork strewn over the doormat.
Mrs. Turner answered just as Kim opened the car door. Without any pleasantries, he asked if George were available. By the time George was on the line, Kim was already backing out the driveway.
“Sorry to bother you,” Kim said.
“No bother,” George said. “What’s up? Nothing, I hope.”
“I’m afraid so,” Kim said. “I mean it’s nothing earth-shattering. It’s just that Becky’s sick with dysentery-like symptoms: cramps, diarrhea, and now some bleeding, but no fever.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” George said.
“We never got another pediatrician after you left,” Kim explained guiltily. “And the few I knew, including yourself, all left town. Last night we took her to the emergency room at the University Med Center and ended up waiting for three hours.”
“God! That’s terrible,” George said.
“I’m embarrassed to say I punched out one of the AmeriCare administrators over it,” Kim said. “Anyway, Becky was sent home with nothing. No medications. Tracy just called me to tell me she hemorrhaged. I don’t know how much, but Tracy was a bit hysterical. I’m on my way to meet them at the ER. Who should I have see her?”
“Hmmmm,” George intoned. “I don’t think a pediatrician would be best. I guess I’d recommend either an infectious-disease specialist or a GI person.”
“Well, which?” Kim asked. “And would you recommend one? The consults I deal with don’t see kids as a rule.”
“You’ve got a lot of superb people,” George said. “I guess I’d recommend an infectious-disease guy, at least initially. Try to get Claude Faraday. You can’t do better than Claude anyplace.”
“Thanks, George,” Kim said.
“My pleasure,” George said. “Sorry I�
�m not around.”
“Me too,” Kim said.
“Keep me posted,” George said.
“I will,” Kim said.
Kim disconnected, then used speed-dialing to get the hospital. He had the hospital operator patch him through to Claude Faraday. To Kim’s relief, the man was at home.
Kim explained the situation much as he did to George. Claude listened, asked a few pertinent questions, and then graciously agreed to come to the ER directly.
Kim pulled into the hospital. On this occasion he drove directly around to the parking area reserved for the emergency room. He looked briefly for Tracy’s Volvo. When he didn’t see it, he went up the steps to the ER platform and pushed inside.
The emergency room appeared to Kim nearly as busy as it did the night before, although he saw some empty chairs in the waiting room. He bypassed the reception and went directly to the nurses’ desk. Both Molly and Monica happened to be sitting there as he came in. They exchanged nervous glances.
“Has my daughter come in yet tonight?” Kim asked.
“I haven’t seen her,” Molly said. She seemed disinterested and a tinge wary at the same time.
“Nor I,” Monica said.
“Is she supposed to come in again?” Molly asked.
Kim didn’t bother to answer. He left the desk and headed directly back into the emergency room proper.
“Hey, where are you going?” Molly demanded. She stood up with the idea of coming around the edge of the desk to bar Kim’s passage as she’d done the previous night, but Kim was already beyond. Molly hurried after him.
Monica snapped her fingers to get the security man’s attention. When he looked over, she pointed frantically at Kim’s disappearing figure. The security man nodded and started after him as well. As he trotted, he slipped his two-way radio out from its holster.
Kim walked the length of the first room, sticking his nose into each cubicle as he went along. Molly caught up to him. “Just what do you think you are doing?” she demanded.
Kim ignored the woman, who was joined by the security man. They trailed after Kim. “What should I do?” the security man asked Molly. “I mean, he is a doctor.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Molly said.
Kim ran out of cubicles on one side of the room and started on those on the opposite side. Finally he found David Washington suturing a laceration on a child’s hand. A nurse was assisting him. David was wearing two-plus oculars, and he regarded Kim over the top of them.
“My daughter’s on her way in,” Kim announced. “Now she’s apparently passing frank blood.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” David said. “What’s her blood pressure and pulse?”
“That I don’t know,” Kim said. “My ex-wife is bringing her in. I haven’t seen her yet.”
With his sterile, gloved hands raised in the air, David turned to Molly and asked her to get a room ready with a crash cart and plasma expanders in case they were needed. Molly nodded and disappeared.
“I want my daughter seen immediately,” Kim ordered. “And I want her to have an infectious-disease consult.”
“Dr. Reggis,” David said. “Let’s try to be friends. It would help if you recognize I’m in charge here.”
“I’ve already talked with Dr. Claude Faraday,” Kim said as if he’d not heard David. “He’s on his way. I presume you know him?”
“Of course I know him,” David said. “That’s not the point. The usual protocol is for us to order the consults if the patient does not have an AmeriCare gatekeeper. AmeriCare is very clear on this issue.”
“I want Dr. Faraday to see her,” Kim averred.
“All right,” David said. “But at least understand we are doing you a favor. This is not the way things are usually done here.”
“Thank you,” Kim said. He turned and walked back the length of the room. He scanned the reception area, and when he didn’t see Tracy and Becky he went out onto the receiving platform. He stood waiting just as he’d done the evening before.
He didn’t have long to wait. Within minutes Tracy’s station wagon appeared and drove practically up to the platform itself. Kim jumped down and was at the back door by the time Tracy was pulling on the emergency brake.
He opened the door and leaned in. Becky was lying on the backseat on her side. Kim could see her face with the help of the floodlights on the receiving platform. Although she appeared pale, she smiled at him, and he felt relieved.
“How do you feel, Pumpkin?” Kim asked.
“Better now,” Becky said. “The cramp went away.”
“I’m glad,” Kim said. “Come on, let me carry you.”
“I can walk,” Becky said.
“I’ll carry you just the same,” Kim said.
He got his right arm under her knees and slid her out so that he could get his left arm under her upper body. He hoisted her up. She put her own arms around his neck and buried her face under his chin.
“Okay,” Kim said soothingly. “Daddy has you.”
“She’s not too heavy, is she?” Tracy asked.
“Not at all,” Kim said.
Kim led the way: first up the stairs and then backing through the swinging doors. As he walked past reception with Tracy directly behind him, one of the clerks called out that they had to check-in. Kim ignored her. Although Tracy felt uncomfortable, she didn’t say anything.
Monica was sitting at the nurses’ desk when she heard the clerk call out. Looking up, she saw Kim approaching. Immediately she leaped to her feet and stepped into the hall to bar the way. But she was not Molly.
“No, you don’t,” Monica said. “You’re not bringing that child in without a sign-in sheet.”
Kim continued walking. Monica took several steps backward. “You can’t do this,” she protested.
Tracy tugged on Kim’s arm. “Let’s not have a scene,” she said.
Relentless as a steamroller, Kim continued forward. Monica did not have Molly’s bulk and was forced to the side.
“You can get the information from last night’s sign-in sheet,” Kim called over his shoulder.
Monica rushed back into the desk area to page David Washington.
Kim carried Becky into the first available cubicle. He laid her on the gurney. Tracy came in to stand on the opposite side and hold Becky’s hand. Kim took the blood-pressure cuff and wrapped it around her other arm. Monica reappeared after putting in her page and tried to take over, but Kim would not hear of it. He put a stethoscope in his ears and started to inflate the cuff.
David Washington and Molly McFadden entered. David had a white jacket thrown over his scrubs. He nodded a greeting to Tracy and waited for Kim to finish taking the blood pressure. He also motioned to Monica that she could leave.
“You have no respect for protocol,” David commented as Kim took the stethoscope from his ears.
“Her blood pressure is ninety over fifty,” Kim said. “Let’s get an IV going. I want her typed and cross-matched just in case. Also . . .”
“Hold up!” David yelled, raising his hand for emphasis. Then in a calm voice he added: “Dr. Reggis, with all due respect, you’ve already forgotten that you are not in charge here.”
“I’m just covering the basics,” Kim said. “Miss McFadden, how about getting me a twenty-one-gauge catheter, and I’ll need a tourniquet and some tape.”
David motioned for Molly to stay where she was, while he went up to Kim. He wrapped one of his sizable hands around Kim’s forearm.
“I’m only going to ask you once,” David said in his calm but commanding voice. “I want you to walk out of here and wait outside. It’s in your daughter’s best interest. I’m sure that if you just stop and think for a moment, you’ll understand.”
Kim’s eyes narrowed as he stared at David. Slowly he looked down at David’s hand clasped around his arm. For a moment no one said a word. The only sound came from a cardiac monitor in another cubicle.
Tracy sensed the electricity in the a
ir. For her it was like the explosive calm just prior to a sudden summer thunderstorm. To avert an undoubtedly unpleasant scene, she dashed around the foot of the gurney and put her arm over Kim’s shoulder and tugged on him. “Please, Kim!” she pleaded. “Let’s let them do their thing.”
Gradually Kim responded to Tracy’s urging, and he visibly relaxed a degree. David took his hand away.
Kim nodded to Tracy. “Okay,” he said. Then, turning back to Becky, he gripped her tiny arm. “Daddy will be right outside, Pumpkin.”
“I don’t want any needles,” Becky said plaintively.
“They want to give you some fluid,” Kim said. “But it will be only one stick. It will be over in a second. I know it’s no fun, but you’ve got to be strong so you can get back to normal. Okay?”
“Okay,” Becky said reluctantly.
Tracy gave Becky’s hand a squeeze and told her that she would be with Kim and that they would be back in to see her in a few moments. Becky nodded but she clearly wasn’t happy. She looked scared.
Tracy followed Kim out through the curtain surrounding Becky’s gurney. She could hear that he was breathing fast. She didn’t say anything until they had passed the nurses’ desk.
“Kim, you have to calm down,” Tracy said. She put her hand gently on his arm. “You’re so tense.”
“David Washington drives me up a wall,” Kim snapped.
“He’s doing his job,” Tracy said. “If the situation were reversed and you were taking care of his child, I’m sure you’d act the same way he has. You wouldn’t want him giving orders.”
Kim pondered this as he pushed through the swinging doors to the outside. The blast of cold air felt good on his face. He stopped on the platform and took a deep breath. He slowly let it out. Tracy still had a hold of his arm.
“I guess you’re right,” he said finally. “It’s hard for me to see Becky lying there and so vulnerable.”
“I can imagine,” Tracy said. “It must be very difficult.”