She began by apologizing for the scene Thomas had caused, but Dr. Ballantine cut her off and assured her that the party had been a great success and he doubted if anyone even remembered the incident. Cassi wished she could believe that; unfortunately she knew it was just the kind of scandalous scene that stayed in peoples’ minds.
“I’ve talked with Thomas several times this morning,” said Dr. Ballantine. “I happened to see him before surgery.
“How did he seem?” asked Cassi. In her mind’s eye she could see Thomas unconscious in the leather armchair, then stumbling into the bathroom.
“Perfectly fine. Seemed to be in a good mood. I was pleased that everything was back to normal.”
To her dismay Cassi’s eyes filled with tears. She’d promised herself it wouldn’t happen.
“Now, now,” said Dr. Ballantine. “Everyone occasionally blows up under stress. Don’t place too much importance on last night’s incident. The way he’s been working, it’s entirely understandable. Maybe not excusable, but understandable. The house staff have even commented that he’s spending an unusual number of nights in the hospital. Tell me, my dear, has Thomas been acting normally at home?”
“No,” said Cassi, dropping her line of sight to her hands that lay immobile in her lap. Once she started talking, the words came out easily.
She told Dr. Ballantine Thomas’s reaction to her proposed operation and confessed that their relationship had been strained for some time, but she didn’t think the cause was really her illness. Thomas had known she had diabetes before they were married, and, except for the eye problem, her condition had not changed. She didn’t think her medical complications explained Thomas’s anger.
She paused, beginning to perspire with anxiety. “I think the real problem is that Thomas has been taking too many pills. I mean lots of people take an occasional Dexedrine or sleeping pill, but Thomas may be overdoing it.” She paused again, looking up at Ballantine.
“I have heard one or two things,” mused Ballantine. “One of the residents commented on a tremor. He didn’t realize I was behind him in the hall. What exactly has Thomas been taking?”
“Dexedrine to keep awake and Percodan or Talwin to calm down.”
Dr. Ballantine strode over to the window and stared into the surgical lounge directly opposite. Turning back to Cassi, he cleared his throat. His voice had not lost any of its warmth.
“The availability of drugs can be a severe temptation for a doctor, particularly if he is as severely overworked as Thomas.” Ballantine moved back to his desk and eased into his chair.
“But availability is only part of the story. Many physicians also have a sense of entitlement. They take care of people all day and feel they deserve a little aid themselves if they need it. Drugs or alcohol. It’s an alltoo-common story. And since they have been trained to be self-sufficient, instead of talking to another doctor, they medicate themselves.”
Cassi was enormously relieved that Dr. Ballantine absorbed the news about Thomas with such composure. For the first time in days she felt optimistic.
“I think the most important thing is that we keep this to ourselves,” said Dr. Ballantine. “Gossip could be detrimental to both your husband and the hospital. What I will do is have a diplomatic talk with Thomas and see if we can’t take care of the problem before it gets out of hand. Having seen this kind of thing before, I can assure you, Cassi, that Thomas’s difficulties are minor. He has been carrying his usual surgical load.”
“You’re not worried about his patients?” asked Cassi. “I mean, have you seen him operate recently?”
“No,” admitted Dr. Ballantine. “But I would be the first to hear if something were amiss.”
Cassi wondered.
“I’ve known Thomas for seventeen years,” Ballantine said reassuringly. “I’d know if there was something seriously wrong.”
“How will you bring up the subject?” asked Cassi.
Dr. Ballantine shrugged. “I’ll play it by ear.”
“You won’t mention that I spoke with you, will you?” asked Cassi.
“Absolutely not,” said Dr. Ballantine.
Carrying a handful of irises that she’d purchased in the hospital flower shop, Cassi walked down the eighteenth floor corridor to room 1847. The door was open about halfway. She rapped and peeked in. A figure was lying in the single bed holding a sheet up to his eyes. He was shaking in apparent terror.