Coma by Robin Cook. Part four

The chief resident’s office was a windowless cubicle on 2. From this tiny area came the tactical edicts that ran the surgical department from day to day. Chandler was in charge of all the schedules for all the residents, including the on-call and weekend duty assignments. Chandler was also in charge of the operating room schedule, assigning the staff and clinic cases as well as the assists for the attending surgeons who asked for them.

Bellows knocked on the closed door, entering after hearing a muffled “Come in.” George Chandler was sitting at his desk, which nearly filled the tiny room. The desk faced the door, and Chandler had to squeeze past to gain access to the seat. Behind him was a file cabinet. In front of the desk was a single wooden chair. The room was bare; only a bulletin board adorned the walls. Blank but neat, the room was somewhat like Chandler himself.

The chief resident had successfully risen up the competitive pyramidal power structure of the lower world of students and residents. Now he was the liaison between the upper world, the full-fledged surgeons certified by specialty boards, and the lower world. As such he was a member of neither class. This fact was the source of his power as well as his weakness and isolation. The years of competition had taken their inexorable toll. Chandler was still young by most standards: thirty-three years old. He was not tall: about five eight. His hair was half-heartedly combed in some sort of modern Caesar look. His face had a gentle pudginess that belied his easily aroused temper. In many ways Chandler represented the young boy who has been bullied too much.

Bellows took the wooden chair opposite Chandler. At first no words Were spoken. Chandler regarded a pencil he had in his fingers. His elbows were resting on the arms of his chair. He had rocked back from what he had been working on when Bellows knocked.

“Sorry about taking you off your case, Mark,” said Chandler without looking up.

“I can manage without another hemorrhoid,” said Bellows, maintaining a neutral tone.

There was another pause. Chandler tipped his chair forward to the level position and looked directly at Bellows. Bellows thought that he’d be a perfect individual to play Napoleon in a play.

“Mark, I’m going to assume you’re serious about surgery, surgery here at the Memorial, to be exact.”

“I think that’s a fair assumption.”

“Your record has been reasonable. In fact I’ve heard your name on several occasions in relation to possibly being considered for the chief residency. That leads me to one of the reasons I wanted to talk with you. Harris gave me a call not too long ago and he was completely strung out. I wasn’t even sure what he was talking about for a few minutes. Apparently one of your students has been nosing around about these coma cases, and it’s got Harris bullshit. Now, I have no idea what’s going on, but he thinks that you might be behind getting the student interested and helping him.”

“It’s a her.”

“Him, her, I don’t give a damn.”

“Well, it might be significant. She happens to be a very well put-together specimen. As for my role in the matter, it’s a big fat zero! If anything, I have constantly tried to talk her out of the whole affair.”

“I’m not about to argue with you, Mark. All I wanted to do is warn you of the situation. I’d hate to have you gamble your chances on the chief residency because of some student’s activities.”

Mark looked at Chandler and wondered what Chandler would say if he told Chandler that he was going to see Susan that night on a social basis.

“I have no idea if Harris has said anything to Stark about all this, Mark, and I can assure you that I won’t unless it gets to the point where I have to cover my own tracks. But let me emphasize that Harris was livid, so you’d better tone your student down and tell him …”

“Her!”

“OK, tell her to find something else to get interested in. After all there must be ten people who are working on the problem already. In fact most of Harris’s department has been doing nothing else since the present run of anesthetic coma catastrophes.”

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