Susan was so accustomed to academic encouragement that she was totally caught off guard by Dr. Nelson’s negative response to her investigation. Not only was he not interested, but he was obviously trying to talk Susan out of the project as well.
Susan hesitated, then stood up.
“Thank you very much for the offer. But I’ve just gotten so involved with this study that I think I’ll follow it up for a while.”
“Suit yourself, Miss Wheeler. But I’m sorry; I cannot help you.”
“Thank you for your time,” said Susan, reaching out for her computer printout.
“I’m afraid this information cannot be made available for you any longer,” said Dr. Nelson interposing his hand between Susan’s and the IBM sheet.
Susan kept her hand extended for a second of indecision. Once again Dr. Nelson had caught her off guard with an unexpected response. It seemed absurd that he would actually have the gall to confiscate material she already had.
Susan did not say another word and she avoided looking at Dr. Nelson. She got her things together and left. Dr. Nelson instantly picked up the telephone and placed a call.
Tuesday, February 24, 10:48 A.M.
In Dr. Harris’s office there was an entire bookcase full of the latest books on anesthesiology, some still in prepublication bound galleys, sent for his endorsement. For Susan this was a boon, and her eyes scanned the titles for any books specifically on complications. She located one, and she wrote down the title and publisher. Next she looked for any general texts which she had not seen in the library. And her eyes registered another find: Coma: Pathophysiological Basis of Clinical States. Excitedly she withdrew the volume and thumbed through it, noticing the chapter headings. She wished she had had the book at the onset of her reading.
The door to the office opened and Susan looked up to face Dr. Robert Harris for the second time. Instantly she felt a certain sense of intimidation or scorn as Dr. Harris regarded her without the slightest sign of recognition or friendliness. It had not been Susan’s idea to wait for him in his office; it had been the direct order of the secretary who had arranged the meeting for Susan. Now Susan felt an uneasiness, as if she were an interloper in Dr. Harris’s private sanctum. The fact that she was holding one of his books made it that much worse.
“Be sure to put the volume back where you found it,” said Harris as he turned to close the door, his speech slow and deliberate as if addressed to a child. He removed his long white coat and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. Without another word he retreated behind his desk to open a large ledger and make several notations. He acted as if Susan were not even there.
Susan closed the textbook and replaced it on the shelf. Then she returned to the director’s chair in which she had started her wait for Dr. Harris thirty minutes before.
The only window was directly behind Harris, and its light, combining with the overhead fluorescent light, gave a strange shimmering quality to Harris’s appearance. Susan had to squint against the glare coming directly at her.
The smooth tawny color of Harris’s arms was a perfect setting for the gold digital watch on his left wrist. His forearms were massive, tapering to surprisingly narrow shafts. Despite the time of year and the temperature, Dr. Harris was dressed in a short-sleeved blue shirt. Several minutes went by before he finished with the ledger. After closing the cover he pressed a buzzer for his secretary to come in and take it. Only then did he turn and acknowledge Susan’s existence.
“Miss Wheeler, I am certainly surprised to see you in my office.” Dr. Harris slowly leaned back in his chair. He seemed to have some difficulty looking directly at Susan. Because of the background lighting Susan could not see the details of his face. His tone was cold. There was a silence.
“I would like to apologize,” began Susan, “for my apparent impertinence yesterday in the recovery room. As you probably are aware, this is my first clinical rotation, and I’m unaccustomed to the hospital environment, particularly to the recovery room. On top of that there had been a strange coincidence. About two hours prior to our meeting I had spent some time with the very patient you were attending. I had started his I.V. prior to surgery.”