the side, but then gave up. “No. That’s okay. I called you today. I still have a headache.”
“You’re being admitted, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, you can come see me.” Danny waited patiently as Harold tried to find his words. He straightened the pulse oximeter probe clipped on Harold’s index finger, which registered 96% on the monitor. “I’m going to cause a strain on the practice,” Harold continued, “my being in here.”
“You focus on getting rid of whatever you’ve got. They’re working you up already, and once you get admitted, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” Danny patted his arm. “I’ve got to run for my next case. I’ll check on you later.”
While running up the stairs to the second floor, Danny’s pager beeped. He entered the doctor’s lounge, poured a half cup of coffee, and sat in front of a phone. He dialed the number of the nurses station on one of their neurosurgical wings.
“Dr. Tilson,” Danny said, when someone answered.
“Dr. Tilson, this is Rob. I’m taking care of Troy Neal this afternoon. His fever has spiked higher, he vomited a light lunch he had, and we also just discovered a nasty bed sore that he kept us from seeing.”
“I’m headed into surgery, Rob. I’ll be by afterwards. In the meantime, call his internist who’s been following him peripherally. Ask her to come see him.”
Danny got off the phone. When it rains, it pours , he thought. He pushed the morning’s developments to the back of his mind and looked at the recent CT scan report on the computer screen for his next patient.
Chapter 5
At Bruce’s request, Danny headed to the office after his surgeries. As soon as he entered, Bruce signaled him and Matthew Jacob, their junior colleague, into his office and started tossing questions Danny’s way.
“What’s wrong with Harold? Is there any chance of him working in the next few days?”
“He’s admitted and it’s too early to tell. And I don’t think so, at least not until Monday.”
Bruce shoved some folders to the side and leaned on his desk. “What’s the admitting diagnosis?”
“I think they put flu or flu-like illness.”
“It’s not exactly flu season,” Bruce said.
A lengthy silence followed. Bruce looked square at Matthew. “Harold was on call this weekend. One of you must cover. Matthew, are you game?”
Matthew shifted his gaze from Bruce, which wasn’t an aversion to the question. Their newest colleague avoided most eye contact yet listened well and never missed details.
“Not practically speaking. My new brother-in-law is getting married and I’m one of the ushers. I have the tux, there will be pictures, the reception, etc.”
Bruce eyed them both. Matthew turned to his side, facing Danny. His favorite pastime with his wife was running, which made his profile skinny as a dime. “Honestly,” he said, “I don’t know if I’ll even have time to run this weekend.”
A frown etched across Danny’s forehead. “Bruce, you can count on me if you can’t do it.” Danny knew he’d pulled his weight and more since he’d returned and that he stood in Bruce’s good grace. “The reason I say ‘if you can’t do it’ is that I finally have visitation and I’m bringing my baby to the house this weekend.”
“Danny, I can’t. My wife and I are headed out of town for a birthday celebration. And this old man can’t pull that kind of call too often anymore.”
Danny shook his head. “I guess we don’t have a choice. I’ll cover.” A pang of despondency gripped over him as he struggled not to show it.
“Danny, sorry about the timing,” Matthew said.
“Danny, there will be hundreds of visits with your daughter,” Bruce added. “By the time she’s eighteen, you’ll be begging for an Ivy League school to take her off your hands.”
“I wish that were true, Bruce. She’s not in my hands.”
Bruce got up quickly from his chair. “Now, what about Harold?”
“I’m going back over
“You’re being admitted, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, you can come see me.” Danny waited patiently as Harold tried to find his words. He straightened the pulse oximeter probe clipped on Harold’s index finger, which registered 96% on the monitor. “I’m going to cause a strain on the practice,” Harold continued, “my being in here.”
“You focus on getting rid of whatever you’ve got. They’re working you up already, and once you get admitted, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” Danny patted his arm. “I’ve got to run for my next case. I’ll check on you later.”
While running up the stairs to the second floor, Danny’s pager beeped. He entered the doctor’s lounge, poured a half cup of coffee, and sat in front of a phone. He dialed the number of the nurses station on one of their neurosurgical wings.
“Dr. Tilson,” Danny said, when someone answered.
“Dr. Tilson, this is Rob. I’m taking care of Troy Neal this afternoon. His fever has spiked higher, he vomited a light lunch he had, and we also just discovered a nasty bed sore that he kept us from seeing.”
“I’m headed into surgery, Rob. I’ll be by afterwards. In the meantime, call his internist who’s been following him peripherally. Ask her to come see him.”
Danny got off the phone. When it rains, it pours , he thought. He pushed the morning’s developments to the back of his mind and looked at the recent CT scan report on the computer screen for his next patient.
Chapter 5
At Bruce’s request, Danny headed to the office after his surgeries. As soon as he entered, Bruce signaled him and Matthew Jacob, their junior colleague, into his office and started tossing questions Danny’s way.
“What’s wrong with Harold? Is there any chance of him working in the next few days?”
“He’s admitted and it’s too early to tell. And I don’t think so, at least not until Monday.”
Bruce shoved some folders to the side and leaned on his desk. “What’s the admitting diagnosis?”
“I think they put flu or flu-like illness.”
“It’s not exactly flu season,” Bruce said.
A lengthy silence followed. Bruce looked square at Matthew. “Harold was on call this weekend. One of you must cover. Matthew, are you game?”
Matthew shifted his gaze from Bruce, which wasn’t an aversion to the question. Their newest colleague avoided most eye contact yet listened well and never missed details.
“Not practically speaking. My new brother-in-law is getting married and I’m one of the ushers. I have the tux, there will be pictures, the reception, etc.”
Bruce eyed them both. Matthew turned to his side, facing Danny. His favorite pastime with his wife was running, which made his profile skinny as a dime. “Honestly,” he said, “I don’t know if I’ll even have time to run this weekend.”
A frown etched across Danny’s forehead. “Bruce, you can count on me if you can’t do it.” Danny knew he’d pulled his weight and more since he’d returned and that he stood in Bruce’s good grace. “The reason I say ‘if you can’t do it’ is that I finally have visitation and I’m bringing my baby to the house this weekend.”
“Danny, I can’t. My wife and I are headed out of town for a birthday celebration. And this old man can’t pull that kind of call too often anymore.”
Danny shook his head. “I guess we don’t have a choice. I’ll cover.” A pang of despondency gripped over him as he struggled not to show it.
“Danny, sorry about the timing,” Matthew said.
“Danny, there will be hundreds of visits with your daughter,” Bruce added. “By the time she’s eighteen, you’ll be begging for an Ivy League school to take her off your hands.”
“I wish that were true, Bruce. She’s not in my hands.”
Bruce got up quickly from his chair. “Now, what about Harold?”
“I’m going back over
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