by Barbara Ebel
Dr. Clark closed the file. A nurse, patient, and parent walked by them and entered the next room, giving her adequate time to reflect on Stuart’s question.
“What an interesting concept, Stuart, but I don’t think worthwhile. Over and above the clinical time students put in, and their book work, videos of patients’ visits would take too long for students to watch.
“Also, in answer to your question, my partner and I have never done such a thing and I would never ask that of families. Who wants to be scrutinized on camera? Children are shy enough without knowing they are on camera. What about when they get older? How would they feel about being filmed half nude when they were little? What if a taped exam somehow leaked out to social media? I myself would cringe if we allowed monitors in the office.” She smiled but continued.
“Sorry about the rant. I would never put cameras in our rooms. I even dislike the fact that we find it necessary to use the security cameras that face the parking lot outside.”
When they went into the exam room, Stuart held the little girl’s interest while Dr. Clark did a routine follow-up exam on her. “Come back in two months,” Heather said when she was finished and handed the family a note for the front desk to make an appointment.
Dr. Clark lingered in the room to enter a note in the electronic medical record. Stuart raced off to find Annabel. He found her in the kitchen grabbing one of the cookies that Heather had brought in for staff.
Stuart flashed an affirmative nod like his good deed questions were asked and answered.
Annabel was full of anticipation. “Well?”
“An emphatic ‘no.’” He lowered his voice as much as practical. “Dr. Clark and her partner have never done such a thing and would never ask that of their patients and patients’ families. Annabel, there is no known videotaping going on in this office. Or video spying without anyone’s knowledge. She’s sure.”
Stuart leaned close, the closest he ever sidled up to her.
“What do you know? Is there?”
CHAPTER 24
Annabel’s next heartbeat thumped against her chest like a knock at the door. Stuart grimaced. She was tongue-tied and finally caught her breath.
“I’d better not talk about it, Stuart. This is a tricky situation and we’re just students here as a courtesy because these doctors are affiliated with the university. This is a privilege to be in a private office observing pediatric medical care. I better shut up about what I saw for right now. In essence, I’ll try to make inquiries about the matter outside of the office.”
“Annabel, I’m not a gossiper. If you change your mind, I’m here to add my two cents worth.”
“I appreciate that, as well as you asking Dr. Clark my questions.”
Becky scurried in, straight to the table. “Both docs are ready for their next patients. You two better hurry up.”
“Sorry to make you hunt us down,” Annabel said.
“No problem. I wanted to come in here anyway.” She picked up a cookie, and then a second one, and smiled.
Annabel found Dr. Gillespie reading a chart. “Ever do a dermatology elective?”
“No, and I don’t believe I can fit that in before graduation.”
“You see lots of cancer in derm, especially since a chunk of our society is negligent about sun protection.”
He handed over the file and Annabel took a quick glance at the next patient’s chief complaint - “strange skin growth.” The twelve-year-old girl’s name was Molly.
Inside, the girl was on the exam table with an upper body paper gown that opened in the front. Small for her age, she nevertheless appeared healthy. She flashed a quick, bright smile.
“Hi, Molly,” Dr. Gillespie said. “Is your mom or dad in the waiting room?”
“My dad brought me. Yup, he’s outside.”
“Perfect. This is Dr. Tilson, a medical student.”
“Hi, Molly,” Annabel said.
“Your hair is pretty and long,” the girl said. “I wish mine shined like that.”
“If yours was like mine, you’d wish for hair like yours.”
The girl scrunched her forehead.
“We aren’t satisfied with what God gave us, but want something else. You have wonderful locks of curls and I wish mine bunched up like those curls.”
“Oh,” she said. “Thanks.” She twirled a finger behind her ear and smiled.
“I don’t wish for waves or curls,” Dr. Gillespie said. “I just wish for more hair! Now, it says here, you came in about a ‘skin growth.’ What’s that about, Molly?”
“I have a blackish bump on my chest.”
“How long has it been there?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a few months, but it wasn’t so dark before.”
“Show me.”
The top was loosely tied at the neck, and Molly spread it open.
Surprised, George said, “You’re wearing a bra.”
“I’m old enough.”
“You don’t need to wear one when you come see me. I mean, especially since your lesion is on your chest.”
Molly’s cheeks blushed. “But it’s above my bra.”
“Better to check your upper body for more,” he said, irritated.
“It’s the only one I have. I’m sure about it. My mom wanted you to check it out.”
Dr. Gillespie’s lips tightened in a thin grimace. “Let’s take a look.”
Molly pointed to her right chest above her bra where she had a lesion smaller than a thumbtack. The color varied between dark brown and black and the round border was irregular.
Annabel moved to the other side and noted the slightly raised skin lesion while Dr. Gillespie hovered in front of Molly’s chest. Her breasts, although small under her bra, already qualified as a young lady’s. Like an insect in motion, a low hum began from George’s throat.
“I would like to take a sample of this irritating bump. Let me get permission from your dad. We’ll be right back.”
“Molly’s lesion is suspicious for a malignant melanoma,” George said as they approached the waiting room. “If that’s the case, early diagnosis is imperative. We rarely diagnose those, however, because less than two percent of all melanomas occur during childhood and, besides that, girls are also less apt to develop it than boys.”
Molly’s father stood while Dr. Gillespie briefly explained. “Taking a snippet of your daughter’s skin problem shouldn’t hurt. I’ll give the area a bit of numbing medicine. It would be best if I send the removed skin piece to the lab so we can figure out what it is. It does concern me.”
“Please do what you think best,” the man said. “She’s our only daughter.”
George told him the few minor risks. Back in the room, one of the nurses joined them as George cleaned the area and injected some lidocaine. Molly didn’t move a muscle while he took a scalpel and excised a sample. His nurse readied it for the lab and took off.
“You can get dressed,” Dr. Gillespie said with a smile, “and just to let you know, you’re going to have a beautiful figure. Actually, you are already worthy of winning first place in a beauty pageant.”
Molly blushed again. “Thanks, Dr. Gillespie. Nobody’s told me that before.”
“You’re welcome, darling.”
George pulled the door closed behind him and shrugged. “I try to boost the ego of the girls going through puberty because it’s a sensitive time for them.”
Annabel didn’t want to touch that one and kept quiet.
-----
At home, Annabel geared up for a serious run. Bob was on call for the night and she was glad she still had Oliver. The poor dog needed exercise as much as she did.
Downstairs, she made a right and, after he did his business, she started off in a trot. All the flowers in the park overlooking the river were in full bloom and the benches were half occupied. She nodded at folks, but their eyes settled on Oliver and not her.
Annabel had another reason for rushing out to run. The spike in endorphins would d
o her brain some good; she needed more clarity about the behavior of Dr. Gillespie and the situation she had witnessed in his office. If Dr. Clark had no knowledge of videos in the office filming her and her patients, were those recordings permissible?
She was no police officer to know such things for certain. Police officer, she thought. Dustin still hadn’t answered her text from yesterday and she was painfully aware of how he abruptly left the fair on Saturday.
Annabel rushed down the steps to the pass over the major road leading to the path along the Ohio River. Oliver trotted with enthusiasm and kept perfect pace. Perhaps Dustin had his reasons for Saturday’s exit, but not answering her message perplexed her further.
Although she played a diversionary tactic to keep her mind off him, she’d sorely missed him the last three days … his voice, his dimple, his smile, his concern for her, and listening to his enthusiasm about his job.
Clearly, they worked in different fields, and often she could not share things with him like she did with Bob. For one thing, he might not understand the “medicine” part of what she told him, but there was also patient confidentiality. And the dynamics of what she did with medical colleagues and teams would probably bore him.
No different, she thought. Dustin did not reiterate the dynamics of the officers working together at the station. However, she realized, he did quite often talk about his faithful partner, Sean.
She did long for him, emotionally and physically. It was worth a shot to contact him again, but this time, she’d call him. She wanted to hear his voice and again try to find out what might be wrong.
In addition, she did not know who to turn to; he was the best resource she could think of. If she mentioned her attending’s behavior to the pediatric department chairperson, she could suffer repercussions. She had to talk to someone outside of medicine. She would go mad if she didn’t.
George Gillespie was throwing up too many red flags.
-----
Annabel and Oliver went the whole distance and ran along the river road. She allowed the drone of the bridge traffic from the Kentucky to Ohio side to stifle her racing thoughts. The sunset was fogged over and a humid mist increased and swirled in the air. They slowed their pace, and when Annabel arrived back in front of her apartment, Oliver made a gentle tug towards the entrance.
“I need a treat, Oliver, besides the run. Let’s go to Pete’s Café and I’ll grab dinner.”
They walked the rest of the way and she tethered Oliver to the fence. Customers were sparse but consistent as she went from the outdoors to the inside.
“Hey, Pete,” she said. He stood behind the counter wearing a baseball cap with the name of his café. “New hat?”
“It is. A subtle advertisement. Like it?”
“Sure thing, and it looks handsome on you.”
“You’re too kind. What’ll you have?”
“Your half sandwich and salad mix. Make it tuna.”
“Where you sitting?”
“Outside with Oliver.”
She paid and Pete brought her combo out in a short while. He handed Oliver a biscuit.
“You earned a friend for life.”
“He’s a keeper, that one.”
“He won first place in the county fair mixed breeds dog competition.”
“Like I said, he’s a keeper for life. And you and your friend saved him from probable extinction at the shelter.”
“We did.” Annabel opened the napkin with utensils while Pete placed a glass of water down from his tray. “Can I ask you something?”
“My waitress is behind the counter in there, so you sure can.”
“What if a chef acted so strange that his behavior bothered the customers? Or he filmed other employees without their knowledge? What would you do about that, if anything?”
“Hmm. I presume this is a hypothetical question that needs an answer. As far as the restaurant industry, we are inspected and rated by the Health Department. However, yes, another employee or a customer can report a problem to them if they are concerned.
“As far as filming, if a chef had a camera on co-workers and they had no knowledge about it, that might be an issue to take up with the police department.”
Annabel bit her lip. “Thanks, Pete. You’re very helpful.”
He laughed and tilted his cap. “You’re not reporting me, are you?”
“No way. This looks too tasty.”
Pete patted Oliver. “Where’s that boyfriend of yours tonight?”
“Good question.”
-----
Before she hunkered down to study at home, Annabel knew she must call Dustin. Pete’s advice had made her certain. Not a text or an email, but a real old-fashioned phone call.
She picked up her iPhone and deliberated what she would say while looking at Oliver, who was flopped out on his bed with his legs jerking. He was engaged in a deep REM sleep after the evening’s activities.
She went to “favorites” and pressed Dustin’s number. Most likely, she figured, her call would go to voicemail. She hated that it did.
“Dustin, it’s Annabel. My thick skull finally tells me that you’re ignoring me. I’m sorry if I said or did something to offend you. Please at least give me an explanation.” She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She wanted to tell him how much their relationship meant to her, but she couldn’t. If she could, she would rather do it in person.
“There is also an issue I am faced with regarding the pediatric doctor I mentioned to you, the one I’m working with for two weeks, George Gillespie. I consider it my duty to ask a police officer about what I’ve seen in his office, or downright report it. Please, Dustin, call me.”
-----
Dustin walked out of the nearby movie theater and headed for his car. After a short walk to the wrong area, he let out an expletive under his breath. His black Acura was two aisles over and he was not thinking straight. Or thinking at all. The mindless flick he had just watched drowned his sorrows for two hours by diverting his attention, but now he needed to face his own realities.
Personal losses of loved ones took time to get over, he told himself over and over again. The magic number was one year, especially with a death of a close family member like a parent. But to him, it also included a breakup between a guy and a girl whose relationship could have been marriage material, the death of a partner in the police force, and the death of a beloved dog or pet.
Arriving at his car, he slithered in and turned the volume back up on his phone to find it ringing. The incoming call came from his captain and he swiftly swiped to answer.
“Hey, cap, perfect timing.”
“Sorry to disturb you, but Sean’s wife called the station after most of us left for the day. Sean’s memorial service is one night, tomorrow, from five thirty to nine o’clock. I thought us day shift officers could go after work.”
“That would work for me. However, that seems speedy for a funeral home to prepare a dead body that quickly for a service and a subsequent burial.”
“He’s being cremated in the morning.”
Dustin bit his tongue. Damn, he thought.
“You still there?” asked the captain.
“Yeah, but I tell you, if I find out about any more bad news, I’m going to dive into the Ohio.”
“Dustin, that would be a dirty swim. You wouldn’t make it far, however, because a barge or the current would push you to the mucky bottom.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’ll live another day.”
“You keep talking like that and I’ll ask one of the three-to-eleven shift officers to take you to a suicide prevention doc.”
“Don’t worry about me. See you tomorrow.”
He closed the call and noticed a new voicemail, which raised the hair on his neck. It came from Annabel, and he didn’t want to listen because he might not believe whatever she had to say. She always sounded innocent and trustworthy, dependable and smart. And he couldn’t believe the innocent and trustworthy part.
Besides, he just found out that his partner, who never wanted to face fire and be cremated, was indeed going to face both. Yes, Sean might be dead, but his wishes were what was important. Either his desires were not known or were being ignored. Sadness over his partner delayed him from starting the ignition as he felt emotion gather on his face and in his heart.
Dustin let his feelings play out as couples passed going to their cars. He made a rash decision. What harm could be done to listen to Annabel’s message. She sounded sincere, as usual.
“Dustin, it’s Annabel. My thick skull finally tells me that you’re ignoring me. I’m sorry if I said or did something to offend you. Please at least give me an explanation.
“There is also an issue I am faced with regarding the pediatric doctor I mentioned to you, the one I’m working with for two weeks, George Gillespie. It’s my duty to ask the correct authority about what I’ve seen in his office, or downright report it. Please, Dustin, call me.”
He listened more attentively to the first part of her message, and after the whole thing played, he put his phone on the passenger seat. Maybe one of these days when he felt up to it, he’d at least say “good-bye.” And as far as he was concerned, he had nothing to do with whatever Annabel was perplexed about with some doctor named George Gillespie.
CHAPTER 25
Before getting ready for bed, Dustin cleaned out Solar’s cage while the bird stood steadfast on the top of the refrigerator. Why did he always get the impression, he thought, that his two-legged friend snickered at his human master cleaning up after him?
“Solar, I wish you would make yourself more useful around here and tidy up after me!”
Dustin threw dirty newspapers in the trash bucket. “At least you’re not hurling any back talk at me.”
“What’s your problem?” Solar said.
“Come on down here and keep me company. I could use it now. Even if you give me grief.”
The bird cocked his head and, to Dustin’s amazement, Solar took a short flight to the counter. Instead of going upstairs to the bedroom, he considered the fact that all evening he had only eaten popcorn at the movie theatre. He poured a bowl of cereal and smothered it with milk.