'Short term.. still retired, eh?'
'Not exactly. How about you?'
Also more of the same, Alex. We are doing some very exciting things-advanced cell-wall permeability studies in the carcinogenesis lab, several pilot grants on experimental drugs. So tell me, to what do I owe the honor of this call?'
'I've got a question for you,' I said, 'but it's personal, not professional, so if you don't want to answer it, just say so.
'Personal?'
About your leaving.'
'What do you want to know about it?'
'Why you did it.'
And why, may I ask, are you suddenly so curious about my motivation?'
'Because I'm back at Western Peds, consulting on a case. And the place looks really sad, Raoul. Low morale, people quittingpeople I never thought would leave. You're the one I know best, so I'm calling you.'
'Yes, that is personal,' he said. 'But I don't mind answering.'
He laughed. 'The answer is very simple, Alex. I left because I was unwanted.'
'By the new administration?'
'Yes. The Visigoths. The choice they gave me was simple.
Leave, or die professionally. It was a matter of survival. Despite what anyone will tell you, money had nothing to do with it. No one ever worked at Western Peds for the money-you know that. Though the money got worse, too, when the Visigoths took control. Wage freezes, hiring freezes, eating away at our secretarial staff, a totally arrogant attitude toward the physicians-as if we were their servants.
They even stuck us out on the street in trailers. Like derelicts. I could tolerate all of that because of the work. The research. But when that ended, there was simply no reason to stay on.'
'They cut off your research?'
'Not explicitly. However, at the beginning of the last academic year the board announced a new policy: Because of financial difficulties, the hospital would no longer chip in for overhead on research grants.
You know how the government works-on so many grants, any money they give you depends upon the host institution contributing expenses. Some of the private foundations are also insisting upon it now. All of my funding came from N.C.I. A no-overhead rule essentially nulli~ all of my projects. I tried to argue, yelled, screamed, showed them figures and facts-what we were trying to do with our research; this was pediatric cancer for God's sake. No use. So I flew to Washington and talked with government Visigoths, trying to get them to suspend the rules.
That, too, was futile. Our kinder and gentler bunch, eh? None of them functions at a human level. So what were my options, Alex? Stay on as an overeducated technician and give up fifteen years of work?'
'Fifteen years,' I said. 'Must have been hard.'
'It wasn't easy, but it turned out to be afantastic decision. Here, at Mercy, I sit on the board as a voting member. There are plenty of idiots here, too, but I can ignore them. As a bonus, my second child-Amelia is enrolled at the medical school in Miami and lives with me. My condominium overlooks the ocean and on the rare occasion I visit Little Havana, it makes me feel like a little boy. It was like surgery, Alex. The process was painful but the results were worth it.'
'They were stupid to lose you.'
'Of course they were. Fifteen years and not even a gold watch ' He laughed. 'These are not people who hold physicians in awe. All that matters to them is money.'
'Jones and Plumb?'
And that pair of dogs trailing after them Novak and whatever. They may be accountants but they remind me of Fidel's thugs.
Take my advice, Alex: Don't get too involved there. Why don't you come out to Miami and put your skills to
