taking on risky cases who might die. That sort of concern was best left to Mother Teresa.
He became more and more despondent as he thought it through, especially when he realized that this was why Grayson had agreed so readily to his suggestion that they try for a referral. Grayson didn’t want a failure on his books either. He wished he’d never mentioned this to the Chapmans. He had unwittingly raised their hopes and now feared that they would soon be dashed. He wondered if a direct personal approach might help. Maybe talking to someone at Médic Ecosse would be better than just submitting an application form. Concluding that it could do no real harm to try, he picked up the phone and called the Médic Ecosse Hospital. The lines were all engaged.
Turner sat with his finger on the phone rest, watching the raindrops run down the duty-room window for a couple of minutes before hitting the re-dial button. This time it rang.
‘I’d like to speak to someone about your new NHS patient free-referral scheme.’
He was put on hold. He continued watching the raindrops chase each other down the window-pane, to the strains of Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik.
The music was interrupted and another female voice came on the line. Turner repeated his request for information.
‘I can send you out a form, Doctor. You just fill it in, giving the patient’s details and why you think a referral would be of benefit, and send it back for consideration by the relevant office.’
‘I already have the form,’ said Turner. ‘I guess I want to speak to someone in the relevant office about my patient.’
‘One moment, please.’
More raindrops. More Mozart. Outside in the corridor a child was crying as its mother scolded it over some misdemeanour.
‘This is Leo Giordano, administrative secretary of Médic Ecosse. How can I help you?’
Turner explained about Amanda and wondered about her chances of admission to Médic Ecosse.
‘We don’t usually take on transplant patients for free,’ said Giordano. ‘For obvious reasons. We’re talking big bucks here.’
‘Does that mean never?’
‘No,’ replied Giordano hesitantly. ‘I wouldn’t say never but, frankly, transplants are awfully expensive and our hospital is not in the best financial position it’s ever been in. You may have heard.’
‘I was rather afraid you were going to say something like that,’ said Turner. ‘But really our main problem with Amanda at the moment is that she’s not responding well to dialysis. The machines you have up there are much more efficient than ours. Putting her on one of those might give her the extra time she needs while she waits for a donor match.’
‘I see,’ said Giordano. ‘I take it she has no brothers or sisters?’
‘She’s an only child,’ replied Turner. ‘We’re checking her parents’ tissue types, but of course the chances aren’t good.’
‘So we’re talking about a kid who might not make it any other way?’
‘Yes.’
‘There’s a very real chance that she might not make it here either,’ said Giordano.
‘Of course. Look, Mr Giordano, let’s level with each other,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t make any political or commercial sense for you to say yes to Amanda. I’m asking you purely on humanitarian grounds. She’s a lovely kid with a couple of real nice people for parents. I’d like to see them all get a break simply because they deserve it.’
‘I appreciate that,’ said Giordano, ‘and thanks for being honest with me. But the final say is not up to me. In this instance we’d have to put the request to our medical director, Dr Kinscherf, and, of course, to Dr James Ross, who’s in charge of the transplant unit.’
‘Would you at least do that?’ asked Turner.
‘Sure,’ agreed Giordano. ‘If it were up to me I think I’d say yes right now. I think it’s good if the local hospitals can help each other out. The trouble is that if we at Médic Ecosse so much as ask for the loan
He became more and more despondent as he thought it through, especially when he realized that this was why Grayson had agreed so readily to his suggestion that they try for a referral. Grayson didn’t want a failure on his books either. He wished he’d never mentioned this to the Chapmans. He had unwittingly raised their hopes and now feared that they would soon be dashed. He wondered if a direct personal approach might help. Maybe talking to someone at Médic Ecosse would be better than just submitting an application form. Concluding that it could do no real harm to try, he picked up the phone and called the Médic Ecosse Hospital. The lines were all engaged.
Turner sat with his finger on the phone rest, watching the raindrops run down the duty-room window for a couple of minutes before hitting the re-dial button. This time it rang.
‘I’d like to speak to someone about your new NHS patient free-referral scheme.’
He was put on hold. He continued watching the raindrops chase each other down the window-pane, to the strains of Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik.
The music was interrupted and another female voice came on the line. Turner repeated his request for information.
‘I can send you out a form, Doctor. You just fill it in, giving the patient’s details and why you think a referral would be of benefit, and send it back for consideration by the relevant office.’
‘I already have the form,’ said Turner. ‘I guess I want to speak to someone in the relevant office about my patient.’
‘One moment, please.’
More raindrops. More Mozart. Outside in the corridor a child was crying as its mother scolded it over some misdemeanour.
‘This is Leo Giordano, administrative secretary of Médic Ecosse. How can I help you?’
Turner explained about Amanda and wondered about her chances of admission to Médic Ecosse.
‘We don’t usually take on transplant patients for free,’ said Giordano. ‘For obvious reasons. We’re talking big bucks here.’
‘Does that mean never?’
‘No,’ replied Giordano hesitantly. ‘I wouldn’t say never but, frankly, transplants are awfully expensive and our hospital is not in the best financial position it’s ever been in. You may have heard.’
‘I was rather afraid you were going to say something like that,’ said Turner. ‘But really our main problem with Amanda at the moment is that she’s not responding well to dialysis. The machines you have up there are much more efficient than ours. Putting her on one of those might give her the extra time she needs while she waits for a donor match.’
‘I see,’ said Giordano. ‘I take it she has no brothers or sisters?’
‘She’s an only child,’ replied Turner. ‘We’re checking her parents’ tissue types, but of course the chances aren’t good.’
‘So we’re talking about a kid who might not make it any other way?’
‘Yes.’
‘There’s a very real chance that she might not make it here either,’ said Giordano.
‘Of course. Look, Mr Giordano, let’s level with each other,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t make any political or commercial sense for you to say yes to Amanda. I’m asking you purely on humanitarian grounds. She’s a lovely kid with a couple of real nice people for parents. I’d like to see them all get a break simply because they deserve it.’
‘I appreciate that,’ said Giordano, ‘and thanks for being honest with me. But the final say is not up to me. In this instance we’d have to put the request to our medical director, Dr Kinscherf, and, of course, to Dr James Ross, who’s in charge of the transplant unit.’
‘Would you at least do that?’ asked Turner.
‘Sure,’ agreed Giordano. ‘If it were up to me I think I’d say yes right now. I think it’s good if the local hospitals can help each other out. The trouble is that if we at Médic Ecosse so much as ask for the loan
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