by Barbara Ebel
Rachel gulped and felt her face turn red. “I …”
Very quickly, Phil put his hand on hers, putting pressure to not speak any further.
“In addition to the medical bills, I am ordering you to pay Mr. Hamilton twelve thousand dollars for pain and suffering. With leniency, I will allow you to pay one thousand dollars a month and have the total paid off in one year.” She pounded her gavel, then stood and left the courtroom.
Rachel practically blew steam as she turned on Phil Beckett. “You imbecile,” she said.
Simultaneously, they both slipped out from behind the table and walked down the aisle without looking at Mark, Casey or Danny.
“Rachel,” Phil said, “that was your undoing.”
“My undoing? You’re my attorney.”
“You run things in the courtroom your own way. I usually don’t carry as much weight as your testimony, either good or bad. In this case, bad.” He pulled open the heavy door and let her walk out first.
“Do you realize I will need a huge jump in income to pay off that buffoon?”
Casey and Danny had turned around and watched them leave, smiling as they looked at each other.
“Well done, gentlemen,” Mark said. “Let’s get out of here while we’re ahead.”
Mark shoved his papers in his briefcase and led the way. When Casey joined Danny in the aisle, they left alongside each other.
Danny suppressed a laugh as he grinned at Casey. “Who would have thought?” he asked.
“Not I,” Casey responded. “You can’t make this stuff up. Sometimes the world works in mysterious ways.”
-----
Another week went by and Danny and Vance sat across from each other at the work bench they’d been using in the lab. The fluorescent bulb on one side of the room flickered in need of replacement so Vance turned the lights off, went over to the blinds and yanked on the string, pulling them as high as they would go.
“I think we’ve made progress,” he said.
Danny picked up the electrodes on the table within arm’s reach and looked them over. The intracranial strip electrodes, grid electrodes or depth electrodes were way too big; they were clunky and invasive and the reason he was persisting with his idea.
“Yes, these ten-millimeter electrodes won’t cut it.”
“But don’t forget, Danny. For traditional intracranial electroencephalograms, they are fine. You’re just not satisfied with the present state of affairs.” Vance stood alongside Danny, took the electrodes with his hands, and placed them out of reach.
Danny rubbed his eyes, trying to feign off the sleepiness he felt. He’d been in the lab since 6:00 a.m. and had only taken a break for incoming phone calls from the office and for a quick lunch in the lounge. Vance, on the other hand, had come in later after much more coffee than Danny and with a half-read newspaper tucked under his arm. Although he was devoted to his projects, he made sure they fit into a 40-hour work week.
Both men eyed their product. Danny’s fingers separated them and he nodded his head slowly and emphatically, a pleasurable grin replacing his tired look.
“We did it,” Danny said. “At least I think we did. The diameter of these electrodes is less than 100 micrometers?”
“You know they are. You just need someone to pinch you that they are a reality.”
Danny sighed. “And the other parts?”
“The engineers made you a microchip, an antenna and a miniaturized station all based on your ideas and theories as to how this will all work.” Vance opened a cardboard box and let Danny take out the contents.
“I’m speechless,” Danny said. “Thank you and a big thank you to the department.”
“You’re welcome but you’re responsible. They and I just helped out. Putting your gadgets together functionally is your job; the rest of your idea is yet to be put to the test.” Vance scratched his bald head in thought but gave Danny the benefit of the doubt.
“Okay,” Danny said. “Have I developed a wireless microelectrode system that will monitor David Bell’s brain activity without having him be confined to an ICU bed?”
Vance didn’t answer the question. If it worked, it wouldn’t just impact David Bell but the future of all patients who were in the same predicament.
Chapter 19
Between cases, Rachel sat in the outpatient facility OR break room. She barely touched the microwave popcorn in the bag next to her and fiddled with a pen. Since going to court when that nasty judge ordered her to pay more than what was requested, she had lain low at work and at home.
This new mandated financial payment to Casey felt like an iron anchor sitting on her chest, one so big it could hold in place a mega-cruise ship. Misfortune, that’s what she called it. A string of bad luck.
But it was going to change. Her original plan was fool proof. So much so, it was practically ‘in the bag.’ However, now it wouldn’t be enough.
She had recently been relying only on herself and staying clear of involvement with more men, but the more she thought about it, perhaps it was time to change that yet again. A supplemental plan in her back pocket wouldn’t hurt. Since she knew a move very far away was imminent in the coming months, it would be possible to tweak the exact location if someone else was involved.
Rachel looked around the small lounge. There were few nurses and orderlies there, and all the doctors were doing surgery or in the recovery room. An effeminate nurse named Tom was sitting on the other end of the black leather couch with her. If anyone wanted to know what went on in the ambulatory center, or with their health care personnel or local physician practices, the best information source, gossip or not, was Tom.
She slid the warm popcorn bag over to the middle of the seat between them. “Tom, help yourself. It’s kettle corn which makes regular popcorn taste inferior.”
Tom’s eyes twinkled as he turned sideways and reached into the bag. “I don’t mind if I do.”
“Say,” Rachel said, “I have a dear friend who is moving out west soon and I’m trying to help her with preliminary details. You know everyone coming and going around here. Are you aware of anyone that’s moving out there? If you do, I could ask them a few questions.”
Tom finished chewing and crossed his legs. “No, can’t think of a soul.”
She tapped her pen on her blue scrubs. “What about residents? Third or fourth years should be finishing up and have their jobs lined up. I mean, they take positions all over the place when they are offered the best salaries and spots in good practices.”
After scratching into his ivory-blonde hair, Tom took a sip of coke beside him. “I know a bunch of them. Two going to the big northeast cities, although I don’t know why. That little female Ob/Gyn resident you see running around here is going down the road to Huntington and the ENT fellowship guy that does the MOHS repairs with the attending is going to the windy city.”
Rachel frowned, almost giving up with her questions.
“It’s not like you said, ya know,” Tom added. “In other words, they may start off with good salaries and spots in good practices but think of the debt a lot of them have.”
“That’s true,” Rachel lamented.
“The only one probably not floating in that boat is Dr. Kevin Mcbride. I was in a room with him about three weeks ago. He hardly comes over here.” Tom looked down at the bag.
“Here, you finish them,” Rachel said, handing him the chips. “What do you mean about this Dr. Mcbride?”
“If any of them aren’t in debt, it’s him. He was a CPA for years. One of the partners of the group. He became one of those late bloomers to apply to medical school. You know, it’s like one day they wake up and an epiphany strikes them in the head and they can’t get it out of their system from then on out. They believe they were supposed to help people and so they become fixated on becoming a doctor.” Tom shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “If only they knew what they’re getting themselves into.”
Rachel smiled. “Yes, if only they knew. So, do
es he have a job waiting for him and what’s his specialty?”
“He’s what I call a male Gyner. You know, a genitourinary doc. I know he’s accepted a position. Hey, I think he said he’s going to California. Yes, I’m sure of it. He’s going where he’ll be tied up in the ridiculousness of the traffic around the Golden Gate Bridge.”
She practically got goose bumps but there was one more thing she needed to know ahead of time. “That’s a move that will surely be disruptive to his wife, especially if she has a lucrative job here in Nashville.”
Tom licked his fingers and crumpled the bag. “The guy may be older than most of the other residents but I know he ain’t married.” Tom practically blushed. “I was kinda wondering about him myself, if you know what I mean, but he’s straight.”
“Thanks, Tom,” she said. “I’ll be sure to try and track him down. Maybe he can shed some light on the San Francisco area.”
“He’s usually over in the main OR, especially in the cysto room.”
Rachel grew happier that Tom was such a chatterbox and always willing to gossip. “They have a devoted cystoscopy room?”
“Why sure. And it’s as busy as seven-year cicadas. I have a friend who works mostly in that room and he’s sick and tired of the monotony of it. Guys with big prostates. He says you’ve seen one, you’ve seen ‘em all.”
“Hmm, sounds like something I’d like to do for a while. You know, a change of pace for something easier.” She reached for her bottle of lemonade on the scratched table in front of them.
“Actually, my friend loves our outpatient facility,” Tom said. “You could ask the head nurse who deals with staffing. Maybe you two can switch your positions around.”
“Thanks, Tom,” she said. She rose slowly while her heart thumped at the mere possibilities of what she could attain with Kevin Mcbride.
-----
Danny paced in front of his mahogany desk waiting for Penny Banks to return his phone call. He’d only gotten through half of the paperwork clutter that had accumulated during his limited office time in the last two to three weeks but he needed the break. Besides, it was difficult to contain his excitement about the work he had completed with Vance Saxton as it was time to explain it to the people whom it could possibly impact and then test it on David. He’d already discussed his project with his buddies at the FDA, they fast-tracked it, and there was nothing holding him back but to ask permission from the Banks’ family for its placement.
His extension rang and he grabbed the phone.
“Hey, Danny, it’s Penny.”
“Would you like to be in the ICU when I tell David and his parents about what I’ve been working on?” he asked. “See if they agree to implanting it in David?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“How about 5:00 p.m.?”
“See you then,” she said.
Danny put down the phone. He resumed pacing across the room, not knowing what to do about Annabel. Since she still was behaving poorly towards him and she scowled at David’s present medical treatment, he didn’t know if he should reach out to her and include her in the afternoon meeting. And what if his new method failed? On the other hand, it was possible that Annabel would be with David in his room later.
He stopped at the window. Activity on the street was dying down as doctor’s offices slowed down and fewer patients were walking back and forth between the medical buildings. Deciding that he would only include family later today and not call his daughter, he swiveled the blinds three-quarters shut.
-----
In the nurses’ station, Danny joined Penny as she finished writing a chart note. Her long brown hair was tightly braided and she wore a smile as she looked up at him. “I am very excited about your news. But I know it’s too early to celebrate until we see how it all goes.”
“I am reluctant, too. As a matter of fact, I haven’t even told my daughter. We don’t know if my method will work. And, if it does, are we then going to be able to pinpoint the origin of David’s epileptic activity?”
“Stay optimistic. It’s the best shot this kid has right now.”
Danny took David’s chart and asked a nurse to come with him to witness the signing of the surgical permission form. The three of them walked in where Tara sat in a chair pulled beside David’s bed and Floyd stood with his back to the window.
“I’m so glad to have you all gathered for what I’m about to tell you,” Danny said after greeting each one of them.
The couple stole a glance at each other while Danny spoke. Tara held David’s hand tightly as if he was still two years old; Floyd stepped forward and Danny wondered if he had forgotten to shave or if he was growing a beard. Yet but perhaps it was concern for his son that had put Floyd’s personal tasks on hold.
“Since Dr. Banks is intimately involved with David’s care, I wanted to have her here as well. We both feel we have given David plenty of time on anti-epileptic medications and it’s time to move on to surgical methods. Without much detail, I have previously mentioned to each of you about the surgical methods and technology that presently exists if a patient doesn’t respond to medication. I didn’t want to alarm you too much that, if we came down to this, David would have to stay in the ICU for weeks on end due to the monitoring. Wires would pass through his skull and electrodes would be connected to a machine. With constant recording, we would be able to pinpoint where his seizure foci are.”
Penny nodded as she stood at the end of the bed. “Dr. Tilson is putting it mildly,” she said. “Think how annoyed and bored you are now about being here. Can you imagine staying here for at least another month or two?”
“Right now, I’d rather be studying in a library for final exams than laying here,” David said.
“We understand,” Danny said. “Yet that wouldn’t be possible either because of your daily seizures, which I am so sorry to see you go through.”
“So what do you have in mind, Dr. Tilson?” Floyd asked.
“I took it upon myself to brainstorm and develop a new system with the help of an engineer and neuroscientist.”
“In essence,” Peggy interjected, “Dr. Tilson has been living in the lab for the last few weeks on your account.”
Floyd’s jaw dropped and Tara’s eyes grew wider as David leaned forward, waiting on Danny’s next words.
Danny waved off Peggy’s remark. “It’s become apparent that our next step forward is surgery, David. But rather than monitoring your epilepsy with the old methods we’d usually implement, I’d like to do the operation to implant a wireless system. That’s what I’ve been working on.”
“Wireless?” David asked, then thought a second. “Like going from a dial-up email connection to a wireless network?”
“Exactly,” Danny said.
“Wow! How cool is that?”
“Wait a minute,” Floyd said. “This sounds like pure science fiction. I don’t want our son being a guinea pig for a technique meant for human beings living in the twenty-fourth century.”
“Dad, advancements are already here like robotics and artificial intelligence. Technology isn’t taking baby steps like when you were growing up; it is making exponential quantum-leaps.”
“Including cloning and genetic engineering,” Danny added.
“And GPS in cars,” Tara said. “And what about smart phones? They are ridiculous.”
Floyd frowned. “I just don’t know about this.”
“I’m not here to pressure you,” Danny said. “I’ll give you plenty of time to decide after I explain more. First of all, if my method doesn’t succeed, we’ll have to go back to the old system. But there are multiple advantages of this new plan such as a reduced risk of infection and the ability to easily extend the monitoring time. We’ll be able to more precisely identify the area of your brain causing the epilepsy and, of course, it’s wireless so you can go home. Obviously, no matter which method we use, once we discover the area of your brain responsible, then I’ll have to go back in to
remove it.”
Floyd’s shoulders sagged as he went over to his wife to reassure her. She tilted her head up to look at him but didn’t say a word.
“Have you told Annabel about this?” David asked.
“No. I will … if you’d like me to.”
“I guess you or I can tell her later.
He looked at his parents. “I want to try this,” he said as he let go of his mother’s hand. “Dr. Tilson, when can you do the surgery and where do I sign?”
Chapter 20
Rachel thought about it the rest of the day and couldn’t come up with a reason not to ask for a transfer over to the main OR’s GU or urology room; she had nothing to lose by asking and perhaps a lot to gain if her request was granted. Maybe helping in that subspecialty would be easier than what she was already doing. And on top of it, her court-ordered volunteer work was completed. She’d even been able to call in sick two times and not have it count as a strike against her.
She waited around after her shift until the head nurse went back to her office where she’d be free of OR distractions. “May I come in for a moment?” Rachel asked after rapping on the open door.
“Sure,” the snowy-haired woman said. “Have a seat, Rachel.”
“Thanks. I won’t take up much of your time. I have a quick question but, believe me, I’m happy in the outpatient facility. I’m only wondering if I could have a change of pace, temporarily or permanently. Perhaps a transfer to the main OR’s urology room?”
The woman leaned back. “You’re a good tech. I like to keep people happy. It’s okay with me. I have enough part-timers backed up that would like more hours.”
“Thank you very much. Can we arrange it?”
“I’m quite swamped. Why don’t you go over there and talk to staff. Tell them it’s okay by me.”