“Excuse me, Dr. Kingsley,” said Larry with as much authority as he could muster. “This has been a trying day for You. I’m sorry we haven’t been more on the ball. The fact of the matter is that you are exhausted. I’ll take over from here. You needn’t reglove.”
For a moment Larry thought Thomas was going to slug him, but he forced himself to continue. “You’ve done thousands of these operations, Dr. Kingsley. No one is going to fault you for being too tired to finish one of them.”
Thomas began to shake. Then, to Larry’s astonishment and relief, he snapped off his gloves and left.
Larry sighed and exchanged glances with Miss Goldberg.
“I’ll be right back,” said Larry to the team. With his gloves and gown still on, Larry left the OR. He hoped that one of the other staff cardiac surgeons would be available and was relieved when he saw Dr. George Sherman coming out of OR No. 6. Larry took him aside and quietly related what had happened.
“Let’s go,” said George. “And I don’t want to hear a word about this outside of the OR, understand? It could happen to any one of us, and if the public learned about the incident it would be disastrous, not just for Dr. Kingsley, but for the hospital.”
“I know,” said Larry.
Thomas was angrier than he had ever been. How dared Larry suggest he was too tired to proceed? The scene had been a nightmare. It was the haunting fear of such disaster that had originally forced him to take an occasional pill to sleep. He’d been perfectly capable of finishing the operation, and if he hadn’t been so upset over Cassi’s infidelity, he certainly would not have left. Furiously he stomped into the surgical lounge and used the phone by the coffee machine. He called Doris to make sure there were no emergencies and asked her to reschedule his afternoon patients for another day. He was already late, and he didn’t think he could stand to see patients. Doris was about to hang up when she remembered that Ballantine had called, asking if Thomas would stop by his office.
“What did he want?” asked Thomas.
“He didn’t say,” said Doris. “I asked him what it was in reference to, in case you’d need a patient folder. But he said he’d just like to see you.”
Thomas told the nurse at the main desk that he’d be in Dr. Ballantine’s office in case there was a call. To steady himself and relieve his headache, which had gotten steadily worse, he took another Percodan from his locker. Then he donned a white lab coat and left the lounge wondering what the meeting could be about. He did not think the chief would call him in to discuss the scene at the party with George Sherman, and it certainly couldn’t have anything to do with the episode with Larry Owen. It must have something to do with the department in general. He remembered the trustee’s odd comment the night before and decided Ballantine was finally going to let Thomas in on his plans. There was always the chance that Ballantine was thinking about retiring and wanted to discuss turning over the department to Thomas.
“Thanks for coming in to see me,” said Dr. Ballantine, as soon as Thomas was seated in his office. He seemed somewhat ill at ease, and Thomas shifted in his chair.
“Thomas,” Ballantine finally began. “I think we should speak frankly. I assure you that whatever we say will not leave this room.”
Thomas rested an ankle on his knee, steadying it with his hands while his foot began to pump rhythmically.
“It’s been brought to my attention that you might be abusing drugs.”
Thomas’s foot stopped its nervous movement. The low-grade headache became a pounding agony. Although anger flooded his consciousness, his expression stayed the same.
“I want you to know,” said Dr. Ballantine, “that this is not an uncommon problem.”
“What kind of drugs am I supposed to be taking?” asked Thomas, making a supreme effort to rein in his emotions.
“Dexedrine, Percodan, and Talwin,” said Dr. Ballantine. “Not uncommon choices.”
With narrowed eyes, Thomas studied Dr. Ballantine’s face. He hated the older man’s patronizing expression. The irony of being judged by this inept buffoon drove Thomas to the brink of frenzy. It was lucky that the Percodan he’d taken in the lounge was beginning to work.