by Helen Wells
“We don’t have enough business,” the head nurse commented dryly to Cherry, as Dr. Phipps was preparing to leave, “so some of our doctors have to find patients and bring them in on their way to the hospital.”
“Hospital, rats!” exclaimed Dr. Phipps inelegantly. “I did it solely in the interest of Little League baseball.”
The telephone rang and the head nurse picked up the receiver. She listened a moment, then handed the phone to Cherry. “It’s for you. Dr. Joseph Fortune calling. Very important.”
Dr. Fortune—Dr. Joe to all in Hilton Hospital and the city of Hilton as well—what in the world could he want? Cherry wondered as she took the receiver.
“That you, Cherry? Well, thank heaven!” Dr. Fortune exclaimed as soon as Cherry spoke. “Now, I want you to get over to the Private Wing and get everything ready in Suite 6 for an emergency patient.”
“But, Dr. Joe,” she protested, “I’m on duty here in Emergency.”
“I know. I’ll arrange it with the head nurse,” said Dr. Fortune. “I’m calling from the airfield, the private one outside town. Man had an ulcer attack, a bad one. I’ve done what I could and we’re bringing him to Hilton immediately. Now, here’s what I want you to do,” and Dr. Joe gave her a list of instructions. Then he asked to speak with the head nurse.
“Of course. Of course, it’s all right, Dr. Joe,” she was saying as she waved Cherry out the door.
Cherry walked briskly through the hospital to the Private Wing. It was a special wing of the hospital where patients, who could well afford to pay for comfort, service, and beautiful surroundings, might spend the time during their illnesses.
Dr. Fortune’s patient must be wealthy, Cherry thought. It made her happy to think that Dr. Joe, whom she had known all her life, would for once be well paid. So often he was not very well paid and more often than that he gave his service freely to those who were sick and unable to pay him at all. Dear Dr. Joe with his seamed, sensitive face and boyish spring to his step.
Inside Suite 6, Cherry paused a moment to look around. She was not familiar with the rooms. They were tastefully decorated and furnished. There was nothing to remind the patient that he was in a hospital. In fact, he might well imagine himself in a fine hotel. Cherry caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror in the sitting room of the suite. Her practical, antiseptic uniform certainly struck an odd note.