by R. D. Power
This left the center without any computer support whatever, which put patient health at risk. The panicky committee dispatched Kristen to prevail upon the computer sciences department to work out a quick stopgap, as long as that troublesome Owens wasn’t involved. She went to the dean to ask for help. He empathized, but said he was short-staffed as it was, and no one could take it on. She asked him for any suggestions he might have for expert help.
He said, “I can’t think of anyone more qualified than Dr. Owens. He’s a brilliant programmer. But, with the way your committee treated him, I’d be surprised if he said yes.”
“I’m doing this for the children,” she told herself as she went to his office. Through his half-open door, she saw a cute young woman gazing toward Robert. From Kristen’s vantage point, she could only hear him.
Robert said, “I love you so much!” The young woman smiled. He proceeded, “I’ll pick you up Friday night at seven.” The young lady said okay. For a reason she couldn’t comprehend, Kristen got so upset, she turned and left.
That afternoon there was an incident at the center with a child getting the wrong medication. He would have died but for the efforts of Kristen. That was the final straw. She marched back to Robert’s office, but he wasn’t there, so she went to the dean to ask for his address, then went to his apartment. He answered the knock and gave a surprised look.
“Are you with someone?” she asked.
“A beautiful girl,” he said to see how she’d react. She showed little emotion. Disappointed, Robert asked her in and introduced her to the girl. “Kristen Taylor, this is Kara Owens, my daughter.” Kristen smiled and said hi. Kara tugged on his pants and asked for a cookie. “I already said after dinner. Now go to your room and play, or Daddy’ll wipe the floor with you.” Having heard this empty threat before, she smiled and sauntered off.
“She’s the spitting image of Jenny,” said Kristen.
“Yeah, but she’s exactly like me, poor girl. I can guess why you’re here. I hear your system went back to the shop for some fine-tuning with a crowbar. A real shocker there,” he commented with a wry smile.
“Gloat all you want; you deserve to. Believe it or not, I’m here to ask for your help. We have no working computers and no way to find out any patient history or what we’ve done for them—or anything else! It could be disastrous. Today a little boy almost died because someone gave him the wrong medication. Mistakes like that can be expected when our paperless information system is down. So I’m swallowing every bit of pride I have left to beg you to help us.”
“Bail out the committee who did their best to ruin my reputation so they can save their own sorry hides? I’m sorry, Kristen, but my answer is no.”
“Please, Bob. These are the same kinds of kids you and I used to visit on Sunday afternoons. You know how heartbreaking that can be. The Bob I knew would do anything to help them. What happened to him?”
“He’s standing here before you. But what happens if I rescue all the incompetents who had a hand in this? They get away with putting sick children at risk and will be around to do it again. They get away with wasting four million dollars of taxpayers’ money that could’ve been used to help these children. They get away with smearing me. And, in the end, they still can’t abandon the white elephant they’ve created. That system will come back.”
“I can’t care about any of that right now. Children are at risk as we speak.”
“Then I guess you should’ve used your influence to back me and force them to deal with the problems I raised rather than look the other way as they swept it all under the carpet.”
“I trusted … never mind.”
“You trusted idiots instead of me, and now you’re paying for it. Guess what? I know what I’m doing. And I don’t have any ulterior motives. I never wanted the job of fixing your system. I offered because of … the sick kids. But it turned out that you showed more faith in the committee, or the consultants, or whoever you ended up siding with, than me. If they’re the goddamn experts, ask them to bail you out!”
She took a deep breath, said, “Sorry to have disturbed you,” and turned to leave, but halted and appended, “Tell me, do you have any respect at all for me?”
“Of course I do; I respect you more than anyone on the planet.”
“Then you must despise everyone else. You were standing there yelling at me.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just … I’m mad because you sided against me.”
“I didn’t side against you, but I didn’t take your side either, and for that I’m sorry. But in your eagerness to put me in my place, you’re consigning sick children to a terrible place.”
“Don’t put that on me; that’s not my fault.”
“Not the original sin, no, but your incendiary report made matters worse. You can’t just steamroll your way through life. Your genius does not give you license to abuse people. You have to consider people’s feelings and allow for their weaknesses. You say I’m naïve. Do you actually believe people will listen to you if you belittle and ridicule them?”
Robert lowered his head and murmured, “I guess not.”
“So then, you have to admit you share some of the blame for this situation.” He nodded. “Then help me.”
He looked at her contritely and said, “I’ll design you a new system, but I need to clear something off my desk first. Then I’ll need to talk to you, Miriam, and anyone else you think I should hear from to learn what you need the system to do. Can I come to the Center tomorrow morning to get started?”
She smiled and said, “How about eight AM?” He nodded. She thanked him, then left.
•
The next morning, Kristen was in the middle of thanking him for coming when the chairman of the committee showed up. The chairman told him to leave. Robert looked over to Kristen, who was fuming.
She exclaimed to the chairman, “If you spoil the one chance we have of fixing this mess, I swear to God, I will quit!”
“Kristen, no!” yelped Miriam.
“I have offers from San Diego to Halifax. I am not putting up with this situation any longer. Either you leave right now,” she said, pointing to the chairman, “or I’ll resign—effective immediately!” The abashed man stood and left the room. “Now, Dr. Owens, please tell us what you can do for us, and how we can help you,” she resumed.
“I can devise a basic, working system by the end of next week.”
“Pardon me,” interrupted Miriam, “but how is that possible?”
“It’s possible because top software companies have spent much more than four million dollars creating good database programs that can be bought off the shelf for a song. They are designed to do exactly what you need, albeit at a more basic level than your four million-dollar clunker. All I need to do is adapt it to meet your needs.” Kristen seemed dubious, so Robert looked at her and said, “It’ll give you everything you need and will be perfectly reliable. I give you my word.” Her eyes told him she had misgivings. Determined to overcome them, he continued, “Just trust me, Krissy.”
She darted her eyes to his to deliver the message, “Don’t call me that,” and hurried them back to the floor.
He could see now that earning her trust back was not going to be easy. And that was only the first step in earning back her love. Was it even possible?
He turned back to Miriam and said, “What I need from you is information on your most essential needs for managing patients and running the center, and a copy of the most recent data set so I can get you back up and running.”
“We can tell you what we need, but the consultants haven’t been able to give us any of our data,” said Miriam.
He laughed. “They can’t get anything out?”
“Apparently not.”
“Did you back up your data?”
“At the end of every day.”
“What happened to the backups?”
“They have them.”
“Wait,” said Kristen. “I never sent the
m the last one we did because I didn’t want to hand over everything to them.”
“Good, give me that. I’ll get what I need from it.”
“What will this cost?” said Miriam.
“The center is wired already, and you have ample monitors, right?” They nodded. “We’ll need a server and a software license. That’ll be several thousand dollars. As for my fee, just pay me the five thousand you owe me.”
“I sincerely apologize for that, Dr. Owens.”
“Forget it. Okay, let’s start.”
They spent all morning specifying what they wanted from a basic system and answering his questions. At the end of the session, he set up a meeting for Friday afternoon the following week and got the backup from Kristen.
As he was leaving, she said, “Thank you, Bob. I’m grateful.”
He left, happy that he found a way back into her good books. The next several days, he worked hard to program the database, doing most of the work at home so he could be with Kara. He went to the center a few times—not because he needed to, but to see if he could work with Kristen. But she was always busy.
From what he observed, he could tell how good Kristen was as a physician, researcher, teacher, and administrator: being hugged by an emotional mother whose child she’d saved; advising a fellow on the next step to take for his research project; escorting medical students through rounds, asking questions and correcting their mistakes with courtesy; escorting important public officials through the new center to assure them their investment was in good hands; being in constant demand by patients and their parents, students, residents, fellow physicians, nurses, and administrators.
If that sounds like a lot to observe by chance, it was. Robert set up his main workstation just across from Kristen’s office and arranged his time to observe her whenever possible.
One afternoon, for example, he saw on the posted schedule that Kristen was to carry out a procedure in operating room 1 at 2 PM. He just happened to be in the observation room setting up a terminal at that time. A twelve-year-old girl, a pediatric oncology resident, and Dr. Taylor walked into the room at the appointed hour.
Kristen told her patient, “Lie down on your stomach on this table.” Kristen undid her gown. “Now Dr. Moore will clean the area with soap.” She sat next to the patient so she could hold her hand and look into her eyes. “Now you’ll feel a little sting, just a needle to deaden the pain.” Addressing the resident she pointed to the pelvic bone, about four centimeters from the spine at the top of the girl’s buttocks and directed, “There. Over just a smidge.”
The resident injected the local anesthetic. While waiting for the anesthetic to take effect, Kristen carried on a conversation with her patient. Then she said, “Now, as I warned you, this will hurt despite the anesthetic. Are you ready to be a brave girl?” The frightened girl nodded.
The resident made a small cut where Kristen pointed through which to insert the broad needle. Then he inserted the needle. As it penetrated the bone, the young girl’s face contorted in pain; she squeezed her eyes shut. “Hold as still as possible. Squeeze my arm if it helps,” said Kristen. To the resident she said, “Twist the handle now as I showed you.”
The girl started crying, so Kristen diverted her attention by observing, “It’s so wonderful that your brother’s bone marrow is a match for yours. I bet you never thought a brother would come in so handy, did you? We just need to be absolutely sure where your leukemia stands before we use his special gift to cure you.” The girl began to cry hard as the resident drew out the liquid marrow. “It’s okay to cry,” Kristen said. The girl shrieked. “You’re doing fine. I’m proud of you.”
“Uh, Dr. Taylor,” said the resident. “I’m having a little trouble …”
Kristen stood to see what the problem might be. “Don’t worry,” she reassured the patient, “everything’s okay.” Addressing the resident, she said, “You’re doing fine. Push the needle a little deeper into the bone marrow to get a small piece of bone as we discussed.” The girl screamed in pain. “Almost done,” she said as she assisted the resident. “All right, we’re done,” she declared as the needle was removed. “Keep pressure on the site for a few minutes, then apply the dressing,” she instructed her trainee. “Excellent work, Doctor.”
She sat back down to comfort her patient, stroking her hair and saying, “Wait’ll I tell your mom and dad how brave you were. From now on, you’ll get better, and soon you can go back to worrying about boys and homework.” The girl smiled through her tears.
Robert sat there in awe of Kristen.
Despite how obvious it was what a gifted woman this was, to Robert, who knew her so well, there was something amiss. Her extraordinary competence and confidence were still there, evident to everyone. But where were those radiant eyes, that brilliant smile, that irresistible feminine charm that evinced her unparalleled inner beauty? Like everyone else, Robert admired the person she still was, but that wasn’t the person he fell in love with. Where was his Krissy?
Whenever she did find a few minutes to spare with Robert, she related to him merely on a professional level. She seemed remote yet somehow sad. She felt the same about his demeanor. Neither could penetrate the other’s façade. Kristen could not, or dared not, even penetrate her own. He saw her again with Mark—the two kissed and held hands—which was a real comedown. She seemed to be happy with Mark, as happy as she got anymore, at least. Robert began to lose hope. He was merely of use to her now professionally. When the assignment ended, their relationship would be over. But then, did he want a permanent relationship with this Kristen?
It was in this frame of mind he delivered the working database to the center the next Friday. They spent the afternoon reviewing the system and how to use it. Everything was professional and courteous. Delighted center staff thanked him profusely. Miriam was so happy, she invited him to join the group at a local pub they liked to go to on Friday evenings. Kristen elbowed her when she made the invitation, but it was too late to withdraw it. He accepted. When he left, Miriam asked Kristen what the problem was.
“After what he did for us, we can’t even invite him out for a drink? What is it between you and him? You could cut the tension with a knife.”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I think I’ll pass tonight anyway; I’m exhausted.”
“So there is something, isn’t there?”
“I used to know him, as I told you before, but it ended badly, and I haven’t looked back since.”
“If he means nothing to you now, you should have no objections to accompanying us tonight. We owe him a debt of gratitude. If you don’t show up, we’ll look ungrateful.”
She acquiesced, but decided to invite Mark along, too. That would have the double advantage of communicating to Robert that she was over him and demonstrating the same to herself.
Chapter Eight
Big Mouth at the Pub
A small group from the center showed up at the pub at around seven that evening: Kristen, Miriam, Mark, a physical therapist, and a nurse. Two doctors, whom Kristen detested, joined them at their table.
The irascible pair worked in the children’s hospital. Several weeks earlier, a worried father had shown up at Kristen’s office with his young teenage daughter. He’d had no referral because the irritable woman, Dr. McDermott, had dismissed his concerns about the lump on his daughter’s neck saying, “Maybe you don’t trust me because I’m a woman, but I’ve been a doctor for seventeen years and know much more than you on the matter.” Kristen took one look at the girl—the lump, her drooping eyelids and swollen eyes—and suspected rhabdomyosarcoma. She immediately scheduled her for tests, which later confirmed her suspicion.
Kristen took the liberty of perusing Dr. McDermott’s computerized patient files and identified four more possible cases of childhood cancer. She asked the parents to bring the children in for another checkup. One child turned out to have bone cancer.
Kristen took the matter to Miriam, who told Dr. McDermott’s direct
or the news, and suggested a morning refresher course to be delivered by Kristen on childhood cancer diagnosis. The director readily agreed and made it mandatory for all doctors and residents without advanced training in pediatric oncology. All found the session valuable—except for Dr. McDermott, who knew a young upstart had nothing to teach her, and the irascible man, a doctor from Pakistan, who knew a woman had nothing to teach him. Those two kept challenging her, pointing to her inexperience. She handled the challenges with poise, but came to abominate the two.
By seven-thirty, Robert still hadn’t shown. Kristen kept glancing at the door. She’d been uneasy about the prospect of him being there. Now she was agitated about the possibility of him not being there.
Miriam kept her eye on her protégé, eager to see how she would behave. She was curious about their past and suspected Kristen had been in love with Robert.
Kristen’s discomfort became more evident with each passing minute. By eight o’clock, she was staring at the door with gloomy eyes, like a worried bride awaiting her tardy groom. Finally at 8:06, he arrived. Though her back was to the door, Miriam could tell the second Robert appeared, for Kristen’s eyes widened and brightened, her lips parted, and she became more animated.
As he stepped up to the table, she moistened her lips, twirled her hair, and stroked the stem of her glass—all unconsciously—but she turned her head away from him as soon as he looked at her and switched her gaze to Mark. Miriam welcomed him, introduced him to those he hadn’t yet met at the table, and invited him to sit in the vacant chair next to Mark.
Kristen said with a half sneer, “You came alone? Your girl too young to take to a pub?”
“Yeah, I tried to fake her ID, but I couldn’t quite make her look nineteen,” he said.
The group was in the midst of a conversation about the health sciences softball team. The physical therapist, who was coach and shortstop, was asking Mark whether he might be interested. The therapist, as a means of overcoming a stuttering problem, continually substituted some pet phrases for aborted syllables. He’d begin every statement with an inhaled “Uh,” after which came one or more repetitions of “you know,” depending on how excited he was. He’d typically finish with, “I’m telling you,” going higher with every syllable, and ending in a falsetto. It was always comical on the softball diamond to hear him scream to the person with the ball, “Uh, you know, you know, you know, you know, you know, throw it to third, I’m telling you!” Meanwhile, the guy had run home.