“Young lady, I’m a neurologist with considerable training. My expertise is neurology, and I am evaluating the extensive neurological evaluations that were done on these patients by our resident staff. I really don’t need any help.”
“I’m not insinuating that you need help, Dr. McLeary, least of all in a professional capacity. I admit that I know next to nothing about neurology. But these patients all have suffered a tragedy akin to death and there is something very strange about the whole affair. I think these cases have to be viewed in terms of some kind of association rather than as random events.”
“And of course you are going to be the one to do that.”
“Well, somebody has to do it.”
McLeary paused and Susan had the uncomfortable feeling that the conversation was rapidly deteriorating.
“Well, let me tell you this,” continued McLeary with a forceful quality to his voice. “This kind of a problem is far broader than your current capabilities. Not only that, but your efforts so far are already responsible for a disproportionate amount of trouble in this hospital. Rather than a help you are fast becoming a definite handicap. What I want you to do now is sit down.” McLeary pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“I beg your pardon?” Susan had heard but the tone was confusing. McLeary wasn’t asking; he was ordering.
“I said, sit down!” The anger in his voice now was unmistakable.
Susan sat down in the only chair without a complement of journal articles.
McLeary picked up the phone and dialed. He looked directly at Susan with unblinking, beady eyes. ‘His mouth twitched as he waited for a connection.
“Director’s office, please. … I’d like to speak to Philip Oren.”
There was a longer pause. McLeary’s expression did not change.
“Mr. Oren, Dr. McLeary here. You were quite right. She is sitting here in front of me. … The charts? Of course not, you must be joking … All right … fine.”
McLeary hung up the phone, still looking directly at Susan. Susan could not detect even an iota of human warmth. She thought that he deserved the secretary he had. After an awkward silence Susan started to get up.
“I have a feeling that I should not …”
“Sit down!” shouted McLeary even more loudly than before.
Susan sat down quickly, surprised at the sudden outburst.
“What is going on here? I came in here to see if you could use some help in looking into the coma problem, not to be shouted at.”
“I really have nothing more to say to you, young lady. You have overstepped your boundaries here at the Memorial. I was told that you would probably come snooping for these charts. I was also told you obtained unauthorized information from the computer. And on top of that, you managed to alienate Dr. Harris. Anyway, Mr. Oren will be here in a moment and you can talk with him. This is his problem, not mine.”
“Who is Mr. Oren?”
“The director, of the hospital, my young friend. He is the administrator, and personnel problems are in his bailiwick.”
“I’m not personnel. I’m a medical student.”
“True enough. And that actually puts you on somewhat of a lower plane. You are a guest here … a guest of the hospital … and as such, your conduct should be suitable to the hospitality extended to you. Instead you have chosen to be disruptive and to ignore rules and regulations. You medical students of today somehow have gotten your sense of position in the scheme of things reversed. The hospital does not exist for your benefit. The hospital does not owe you an education.”
“This is a teaching hospital and is associated with the medical school. Teaching is supposed to be one of the major functions of this hospital.”
“Teaching, of course, but that certainly doesn’t mean just medical students. It means the whole medical community.”
“Exactly. Supposedly it is a symbiotic atmosphere for everyone’s benefit: student and professor alike. The hospital doesn’t exist for the benefit of the medical student nor for the benefit of the professor. In fact, it’s supposed to be primarily for the patient.”