Doctor’s Orders (Forbidden Doctors)
1. David
1
DAVID
I watched the new interns file into the diagnostics lab and wondered which of them would crack under pressure first. The expanse of half-inch-thick glass with my name stenciled on it in black and gold lettering was all that separated my conversation with Claire from them, though it was mostly soundproof. I couldn’t hear them, but the grating voice of my ex-wife was loud and clear.
"Well, you're not welcome. And if you show up, I'll have the school call security." Claire protested my attendance at Lexi's award ceremony, and it infuriated me. She'd been doing this for the past seven years, since Lexi was just eleven years old and I'd finally had enough of the mess Claire put me through on a consistent basis. I'd been more than forgiving, but now that our daughter was legally an adult, I refused to appease Claire any longer. She couldn't use Lexi as a tool to manipulate me anymore.
"Well, I'm telling you, I'll be there. Sending Lexi to a European boarding school so that I only got to see her twice a year for a few days was about the nastiest thing a woman can do to a girl's father. You aren't stopping me from showing up to support her. She gets three months this summer before she's overseas again."
I was so proud of our little girl for graduating from the school in Sussex and even prouder that she'd done correspondence courses while overseas to graduate from high school with her two-year degree from Cambridge. No one and nothing would keep me from meeting her in Boston to celebrate her accomplishments. Then I intended to invite her to stay with me for as long as she wanted this summer before jetting off to Oxford in the fall.
"I did what I thought was best for our child, which is clearly more than you ever had in mind."
I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, hoping my new interns didn't see the expression on my face as I replied. "I understand that you hold animosity toward me over the divorce, but you have yourself to blame. How many affairs was I supposed to forgive, Claire? Doing what is best for my child is the only thing on my mind all the time. You were a horrible example of morality, and she needed to see a strong man and his defined response to that."
Claire hung up on me. I wasn’t surprised. The discussion over her infidelity and the inevitable breakup of our marriage always brought out the worst in her. She hated my long hours and as such found a way to fill her schedule while I was busy. It was a disaster from the beginning. Anyone in my position would have done the same. I just never expected her to seek and obtain full custody, then ship our child off to school overseas to be raised by teachers, tutors, and mentors.
The plane ticket and hotel were booked, and she wasn't changing my mind, so I put it out of my thoughts and picked up my tablet as I stood. My focus shifted to the happy faces on the other side of the glass wall, and I strode to the door and opened it. As if I had interrupted a gossip session, all four of them stopped speaking and turned to me with a stone-cold expression.
"Young boy, ten years old, presents with nausea, disorientation, and bradycardia…" I set my tablet on the table in front of them knowing full well that they’d all gotten the files. "Passed out in class this morning after only a few hours of instruction time." I stared at them sternly, searching their expressions. Three of these new interns were fresh off the boat. Their journey brought them straight to me and they were ready to learn.
One of them, however, was a transplant. Since the moment I interviewed her, I felt her potential was good but her success questionable. She had a thriving position in the emergency department already and had put down roots. Jumping into diagnostics later in your career wasn’t unheard of, but managing the added courses and extra work hours this particular field required was intense. She was bound to fail.
"Don't just sit there. This is a differential. Tell me what it could be." I grilled them hard not because I was a monster, but because what we did here was very important. We got the cases no other doctor could solve. We saved lives that other doctors had already written off as lost causes. And this young boy deserved a second chance.
"Shigellosis," Dr. Cooper blurted out while tucking a strand of her curly hair behind her ear. I liked her boldness because it got our discussion going.
"No," Dr. Newhouse blurted out. "No tenesmus present. It's not shigellosis. I think it's organophosphate poisoning."
"Are you insane? How would an eleven-year-old get into pesticides?" Dr. Baine scowled at the older, more experienced intern and scoffed.
"He's ten, and it's possible. Maybe he helped his mother with plants." Dr. Newhouse had some fight in her, but we had no time for bickering. Given that she was experienced, she knew that in emergency cases, constructive feedback was good, but there was no space for an attitude.
"Before school on a weekday? The symptoms present almost immediately?—"
"Thank you, Doctors Newhouse and Baine. What do you think, Dr. Holt?" The younger man with crisp blond hair scratched his chin.
"Viral myocarditis. It explains the passing out and the pain?—"
"But not the bradycardia." Dr. Newhouse rolled her eyes. "Myocarditis causes tachycardia." She scoffed and sighed hard. "We should start him on atropine immediately and get a cholinesterase drip going." I could see she was highly intelligent and very passionate, and I actually agreed with her assessment, if not so much her delivery.
"Very good, Dr. Newhouse. Now back to Dr. Holt?—"
"What?" she snapped, cutting me off. Her nostrils flared and her chest heaved as passionately as her pulse which pulsed at her temples. "The boy could die, and we're messing around with a differential? We need to go test his blood and start the medications now."
"Dr. Newhouse, please sit down." After being cut off, I had to raise my voice, but she stood there defiantly. "Now Dr. Holt, myocarditis was a likely guess. I thought that for a moment too."
"My other guess would have been botulism. His mother suspected tainted canned goods." Dr. Holt smiled at his own assessment, or perhaps because I praised him. Meanwhile, Dr. Newhouse seethed. She tapped her foot impatiently and crossed her arms over her chest in a huff. I turned my attention back to her as she opened her mouth to snap again.
"Should I go start the drip myself?" Her glare was unacceptable. She was used to emergency situations and being in charge of the ER at times, which was a major red flag for me. She thought we were on the same level—colleagues, not mentor and mentee. This would be a problem.
"I assure you, Dr. Newhouse, that the toxins aren't so far gone that our patient will die in the next few minutes. What's done is done and our treatment, whether administered in thirty seconds or thirty minutes, will save his life. Part of this internship is learning critical thinking skills in emergencies and respect for the chain of command and procedure." I hoped my stern chiding would rouse her to respectful obedience, but she shook her head and turned toward the door.
"I'll do it myself." Her hand gripped the handle, and I couldn't believe she was being so arrogant.
"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back. You’re fired," I bellowed, but she looked over her shoulder and glared at me.
"You'd fire me when all I'm trying to do is save a life?" She didn't look remorseful. Her expression challenged my fifteen years of experience in this field and my patience.
"I just did. Good day, Dr. Newhouse." My tone was firm and my expression backed it up. She knew a lot, just not the right things.
Her expression shifted from determined defiance to outrage, and she whipped the door open and stomped out. I watched the full-figured beauty with her sass and intellect storm down the hallway. Her auburn hair, tied back in a braid, swayed across the back of her lab coat and the flouncy hem of her army-green skirt bounced with each step. It was a shame. She was very talented, but she lacked tact and I refused to coddle insubordinate interns. In the world she came from, she was queen. Here, she was nothing but a pauper.
"Whoa," Dr. Cooper muttered and covered her mouth as I turned back to my even smaller tribe.
"I apologize for that. Let's focus on our patient. Now, Dr. Holt, tell me why you think this is botulism."
I let the group continue to talk, carefully watching the clock. My nursing staff was already administering the life-saving treatments for this case. Otherwise, I'd never have taken that time to listen to Claire tell me off earlier. I never intended for my interns to actually diagnose this patient. I sent them the files last minute to see how they'd act in an emergency, and I was right. Dr. Newhouse was too much of a leader to follow. What my team needed was critical thinking skills in a team environment. Perhaps she'd forgotten what it was like to be a new intern and she needed to be taught again.
Either way, I had a heap of paperwork ahead of me now and I had to go back to the application pool to find someone to fill this empty spot. After the morning I'd had, I knew that wouldn't happen today. It was a tomorrow job.
As was convincing Lexi to come stay with me this summer. That ten-year-old boy was saved today by the vast experience I had in diagnostics, but nothing could save my little girl when she needed me most. I just wanted her to see that it wasn't my fault. I had done everything I could to be a good father to her, starting with putting up with Claire's cheating for years. But when she married that divorce attorney with his ties in the judicial community, I never had a chance.
This summer would be about making up for lost time. So long as I didn’t spend too much more time searching for a replacement for Dr. Newhouse. She sure was eye candy, though. Too bad it didn’t work out.