'It appears there is a great deal ofsentiment surrounding this proposal,' Sidonis said after he had finally managedto reestablish his authority. 'I would suggest that perhaps we should tablefurther discussion until our committee can meet again with the risk-managementpeople and reconsider this issue.'
'No, let's vote!' someone shouted out.
'How about another vote on all thoseproposals,' another yelled.
Suddenly the entire medical staff seemedto be talking and arguing at the same time. Sidonis, bewildered and unsure ofhow to handle the situation, looked about for help. He was bailed out by thechief of the medical staff, a burly orthopedic surgeon who had twice been anAil-American linebacker at Penn State.
'Okay, everyone, cool it!' he barked out.'That's it. Thanks. I want to thank Dr. Sidonis and his committee for a jobwell done. It seems this last issue is controversial enough that we ought tosit on it for a while. I know this whole business of who does what is not easy,and would like to praise the staff for its courage and the nonspecialtypractitioners for their understanding.' Two physicians booed. 'Come on, growup,' the chief snapped. 'We gave Dr. Sidonis and his committee a mandate, andthey have lived up to it. Now, I think we owe them a round of applause.'
Grudgingly, the staff complied. Thesession ended with a word of praise for the hard work of the Sidonis committee,and a plea for understanding and unity among the staff.
'You primary care physicians are still thefoundation of our medical delivery system,' he said. 'Never forget that.'
Harry accepted the handshakes andcongratulations of Doug Atwater, Steve Josephson, and a number of the otherstaff members. But he knew that while he had helped the GPs save face, theirloss of stature was severe. The groundswell of support following his speech hadnot changed that. He worked his way free and headed down toward the exit by theamphitheater stage. He was nearly there when Caspar Sidonis stepped in front ofhim. For a moment, Harry thought the former boxer was going to take a swing athim.
'Enjoy your little show while you can,Corbett,' he said. 'It's not going to make a bit of difference around here. You'vealways been a wiseass. But this time you've picked the wrong person to fuckwith.'
He whirled and stalked away.
'Asking you over for tea?' Doug Atwaterasked.
Harry recovered and forced a smile.
'There's something going on with that guyand me.
Something beneath the surface that I don'teven know about,' he said.
'Forget about him,' Doug replied. 'Comeon. Let me buy you a Coke. You're a hell of a guy Harry. A hell of a guy.'
Chapter3
It was midmorning when Harry finisheddictating two discharge summaries and left the hospital for the six- block walkto his office on West 116th Street. The day was cloudless and just cool enoughto be invigorating. Still, despite the weather, he sensed the return of thepersistent flatness that had been dogging him for months. It was a feelingunlike anything he had ever experienced before — even during his year of painand disability. And his failure to simply will it away was becomingincreasingly frustrating. Distracted, Harry stepped on to Lexington Avenueagainst the light and narrowly missed walking into a Federal Express truck.
The cabby, dropping off a fare, waved tohim from across the street. It took a moment, but Harry recognized the husbandof one of his obstetrics patients — one of his
The man grinned and gave an A-okay sign.
'You need a ride anyplace?'
'No. No, I don't, Mr. Romero. Thanksanyway.'
The man smiled and drove off.
The brief exchange gave Harry a boost. Hestarted walking again, picking up his pace just a little.
The canary yellow Mercedes convertible wasparked by the hydrant in front of the building where Harry had a ground-flooroffice. Phil Corbett was grinning at him from behind the wheel.
'Shit,' Harry whispered.
It wasn't that he disliked his youngerbrother. Quite the contrary. It was just that Phil was harder for him to takeon some days than on others. And today was one of those days.
'A mint condition vintage 220SL withsixteen thousand miles on her,' Phil said, motioning him in. 'I just picked herup at my midtown showroom. Do you have any idea what this baby's worth?'
Phil's formal education had ended onemonth into community college, when he gave up trying to compete with Harry andjoined the Navy. Three years later he was back in civilian clothes, sellingcars. The profession was tailor- made for his ingenuous smile, unclutteredpsyche, and perpetual optimism. Five years after his first sale, he bought outthe owner of the agency. After that, he began to expand. Now, six agencieslater, he had two daughters and a son in private school, a lovely wife whocouldn't spend what he made even if she wanted to, and a three handicap at oneof the most exclusive country clubs in New Jersey. He also had no troubledealing with life's big questions. He never asked them.
'Eight hundred and seventy-three thousand,four hundred and ninety-two dollars and seventy-three cents,' Harry said. 'Plustax, destination, and dealer preparation charges. You been to see Mom?'
'Tomorrow. How do you know how much thiscost?'
'I don't. That's my total lifetime grossincome. I went down to the home last Tuesday. She didn't know who I was.'
'I guess that's the upside of having all thosestrokes.'
'Very funny.'
Phil studied his older brother.
'Harry, you okay? You look terrible.'
'Thank you.'
'Well, you do. Bags under your eyes. Thatthumbnail chewed down again.'
'I've got a lot on my mind, Phil.' Heglanced at his watch. 'Listen, I've only got a couple of minutes before I'vegot to see patients.'
'So what are you so worried about? Evie?When's she going to have that operation?'
'In a few days.'
'She'll do fine. She's made out of… um… ah … steel.'
'Don't start, Phil.'
'I didn't say anything bad.'
'You were about to.'
'Why should I have anything bad to sayabout my sister-in-law? She calls and asks me to help her talk my brother intoaccepting this pharmaceutical-house job he's been offered. I tell her that eventhough it's a grand- sounding title, and maybe more money, I think my brotherought to decide for himself if he wants to give up his medical practice to pushpills and design magazine ads. She calls me a selfish bastard who's threatenedby my brother's moving up in the world. And she says maybe a dozen words to mesince. Why should I have anything bad to say about her?'
'She was right, Phil. I should have takenthe position.'
'Harry, you see people when they're sickand you help them get well. Do you know how wonderful that is?'
'It's not enough anymore.'
'Hey, you're forty-nine. I'm forty-four.It's my turn for a midlife crisis. You're supposed to be through yoursalready.'
