Richard Mabry - Code Blue

Harshman was a different kettle of fish- a cold fish, actually. He looked to be about sixty, with a touch of gray at the temples of his coal-black hair. Whereas Steel wore a sport shirt and slacks, Harshman was dressed in a dark blue suit that fitted his spare frame as though custom-tailored. When he removed his steel-rimmed glasses to clean them with a spotless handkerchief, Cathy thought his eyes looked like ice before the spring thaw.

Despite trying not to let Karen Pearson's tales about Harshman influence her opinion of the man, Cathy found herself vacillating between fear and dislike. There seemed to be no question among his colleagues about Harshman's professional capabilities, but the way he dealt with patients was the subject of constant gossip around the hospital. Cathy's dealings with him had been limited to a few words exchanged in the doctors' lounge. She had no idea what to expect from him in response to her request for privileges to perform deliveries.

The other men around the table represented a crosssection of the physicians in the community: an internist, a pediatrician, a radiologist. The last member of the committee was Dr. Ernest Gladstone, the family practitioner whose impending retirement had sent a trickle of new patients to Cathy. He'd been mildly cordial in their limited dealings so far. Cathy hoped he wouldn't be put offby her desire to go beyond what he'd done in his own practice.

Marcus opened the meeting with the usual boilerplate: acceptance of the minutes of the last meeting, voting to renew privileges of various staffmembers, accepting the resignation of several doctors who were retiring. Cathy was surprised that Gladstone's name wasn't on that list. Maybe he wanted to leave the door open in case he got bored with retirement.

"Now we come to the application of Dr. Cathy Sewell for staffmembership and privileges. You've all received a copy of the relevant forms. In addition to the usual privileges granted to family practice specialists, Dr. Sewell has requested additional privileges in surgery and OB. You'll note that, in support of her request, she's provided letters from the heads of those departments at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center, where she did her residency training." Marcus uncapped a fresh bottle of water and drank before continuing. "What is the pleasure of the committee?"

So that was it? No introduction of her to the group? No chance for her to speak? She started to open her mouth, but a glance from Marcus and an expression that said, "Trust me," made her lean back in her chair and remain silent.

"I think we're extraordinarily lucky to have someone with these qualifications practicing in Dainger." John Steel squared the stack of papers before him. "I'd suggest that we grant all the privileges requested, with the stipulation that Dr. Sewell allow one of our surgeons to scrub as an unpaid observer on her first three cases and one of our obstetricians to observe her first three deliveries."

Cathy took a deep breath. One hurdle down. If the surgeon supported her, that could only help.

"I'm totally opposed to granting obstetric privileges of any kind to someone other than a board-certified specialist."Harshman's nasal voice cut through the room, and Cathy's heart skipped a beat. He turned to look directly at her."Doctor, I'm sure you did a fine job on the uncomplicated deliveries they let you do under supervision during your training, but obstetrics can be like flying- boredom interspersed at times with moments of stark terror. You never know when you'll be dealing with a placenta praevia or an abruptio placenta."

"Ease up, Arthur." Dr. Gladstone's rich baritone carried a note of authority that Cathy found surprising. "You've gotten too used to old coots like me doing family practice. The world is changing. In case you haven't noticed, the 'kindly old GP' has been replaced by the board-certified family practitioner. These men-and women-have been trained to do a great deal more than I ever did. Why don't you follow John's example? Give her the privileges, observe her first three deliveries?"

"Never." Harshman's visage was like pink marble, cold and unmoving.

The discussion continued for another fifteen minutes. Each time Cathy started to defend herself, Marcus silenced her with a look or a gesture. Finally, Dr. Gladstone called the question, and the matter was put to a vote.

"The motion is for Dr. Cathy Sewell to be granted staff membership, with privileges for all the procedures she has requested, but with the following stipulations: a member of the surgical staffis to observe her first three operations and a member of the obstetrics staffwill observe her first three deliveries. All in favor, raise your hand."

Three hands went up: Gladstone, Steel, and the pediatrician.

"Opposed?"

Three other hands went up: Harshman, the internist, and the radiologist.

"The chair declines to break the tie. Let's table this request and re-vote on granting standard family practice privileges."

The motion was quickly made and seconded. It passed five to one, with Harshman still dissenting.

"Dr. Sewell, welcome to the staff." Marcus extended his hand, and there was a mild smattering of applause.

Cathy shook the hands that were offered, nodded coldly to Marcus, and left the room, still smarting. Why hadn't he broken the tie? And why hadn't he let her defend herself? She had depended on him, and he'd let her down. Just like Robert. Just like Carter. Just like Daddy.

Cathy sat at the table in her landlady's kitchen and cut into a steaming biscuit.

"Well, look at you. Pretty as a picture." Bess Elam stood in the doorway, drying her hands on her apron. "Going to church today?"

Cathy lowered the two biscuit halves onto the plate in front of her, looked at her landlady, and calculated what she could tell her without starting rumors that would spread through Dainger like a measles epidemic. She decided on a partial truth. "That's right. I'll be attending the First Community Church."

"Glad to hear it. Pastor Kennedy is a wonderful preacher. Sometimes we sneak over to hear him when our own pastor's out of town."

Cathy picked up the biscuit again and buttered it. "I hope you don't mind. You told me yesterday to come over this morning and help myself. They smelled so good I couldn't resist."

"Not at all. You shouldn't have to eat Sunday breakfast by yourself over in that garage apartment. Let me pour you some coffee to go with it."

Soon the two women were seated at the kitchen table with coffee in front of them. Cathy applied a dab of Bess's homemade boysenberry jam and popped the last bit of biscuit into her mouth. The sweet flavor of fresh berries lingered on her tongue until she washed it away with a sip of coffee.

"Do you remember how to get to the church?" Bess asked.

"Yes, but someone's giving me a ride."

"Oh? Who would-?"

The sound of the doorbell stopped Bess in mid-sentence. Cathy felt her pulse quicken. Could she manage to slip out before Bess saw Will? Cathy pushed back her chair, but Bess was already at the door, opening it.

"Will Kennedy? You come in this house and have some coffee and a biscuit." She buried him in a hug before turning back to Cathy. "Is this your ride to church?"

Judging by the burning in her cheeks, Cathy had wasted the blusher she applied that morning. "Yes, he is."

Will smiled at Cathy. "I knocked on your door, but there was no answer, so I thought I'd check Bess's kitchen. Glad I did. I'll take a rain check on that biscuit, Bess. You and Joe doing okay?"

"Fine and dandy. Now you take good care of Dr. Cathy. She's my star renter, and she'll be my doctor if I ever need anything. Now that Joe and I have a good doctor, a good lawyer, and a good preacher, I guess we don't need anything else."