Page 50 of Grumpy Doctor


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But as we drove away, I caught sight of Ted: his eyes looked hard, and he snapped a photograph.

20

Piers

The hospital was quiet as I walked through the lobby a little before five in the morning. I was an early bird, always had been. Lori wouldn’t be in for another hour, and that meant I had time all to myself.

But instead of heading to my office, I walked through the back halls, toward the small gym that was tucked in the very back of the facility.

Dr. Baker was on the rowing machine. Sweat rolled down his forehead. He was an older man, in his fifties, but remained in strikingly good shape. His technique was pedestrian, and he did everything by the book as much as possible, but his outcomes were very good, and I considered him one of the better surgeons in the place. I stepped into the gym and waited until he finished his reps and looked up at me.

“Morning, Mike,” I said.

“Piers.” He picked up a towel and wiped his brow. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I thought we might talk.” I gave him a look and he seemed to understand.

“Give me a few minutes. I’m almost done.”

“I’ll wait outside.”

He nodded, and I stood in the hallway, watching the nurses and patients walk past. I tried to guess the ailments of anyone in a hospital gown, but it was pretty impossible without a chart. Still, I tried anyway: broken toe, obstructed bowel, swollen lymph nodes. Nobody was happy to be in a hospital, but they were always happy when we helped.

Medicine was a necessary evil, and a necessary good. It was all there, mixed into one thing.

Mike came out into the hall ten minutes later, slightly out of breath, and nodded at me. “Come on, let’s walk,” he said.

We headed toward the elevators. “I heard a rumor through the grapevine.”

“Yeah, which one?” He laughed a little. “There are a lot of rumors around here.”

“A rumor about me. Gina talked to you about getting rid of me.”

Mike hesitated, but he didn’t try to hide it. “Yeah, she did. I told her I didn’t agree. She seems pretty set on it.”

I nodded slowly. “I appreciate you speaking up for me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing it to be kind. You’re a good doctor, is all.”

“Thanks. Warms my heart.”

He grinned at me. “You’re an arrogant bastard, you know that? You’ve pissed off everyone in this place. Everyone that matters, anyway.”

“And all the nurses.”

“The nurses matter,” Mike said. “Way more than you realize. They run this damn place, as much as we want to pretend like they don’t. Imagine a world without nurses.”

I had to admit, he had me there. “I’m trying to figure out what it is that Gina hates. I mean, aside from my sparkling personality.”

He went quiet as we stepped onto the elevators and began to ride up toward his office. “I want to say she’s intimidated by you, but that’s not quite it. I think she’s… frustrated that you’re so good, but you’re not bringing in any more money.”

“That’s hard to believe. I have more patients than anyone else.”

“But no rich patients.” Mike sighed and wiped his face with the towel as the elevator stopped and we got off. “I know this is bullshit, and trust me, I don’t agree with it, but you’ve got to bring in the big money guys. Tippett seemed like he was going to be your white whale, but then he died on the table, and you got fucked. That’s basically the worst sin you can commit, letting a rich guy die.”

“I was his only shot.”

Mike waved that off. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not about saving lives to them, it’s about making money. This hospital’s an engine, and cash is the gasoline. Without it, the place falls apart.”

“That’s bleak. But I know it’s true.”

“Then you’ve got to do something about it.”

We reached his office and stopped. He faced me, leaning up against the doorframe, still sweating from his workout. I tried to picture him as a young man, sucking up to his bosses, playing the game, bringing in the rich patients, moving up in the ranks—and I could suddenly see all the ways in which I’d gone wrong over the years. I should’ve been like him, or at least more like that anyway. His technique was pedestrian, but that brought in money, and that mattered more than my skills.

“So, what, I go find some rich old lady, and give her a heart transplant?”

“If you could do that, yeah, that sounds good.”

I crossed my arms. “Unfortunately, rich old ladies with bad hearts don’t grow on trees.”

“Be creative. Listen, I’m pulling for you, I really am. If I can help, I will, but I won’t stick my neck out for you, no offense.”

“Wouldn’t expect it.”

He nodded. “I’ve got a patient in a half hour and I need a shower. Sorry you’re going through all this.”

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