Robin Cook - Toxin

"I wouldn't doubt that for a minute," Kelly said. "But look at that body. And look at that girlish enthusiasm. I get the feeling she thinks you are the living end."

"I'm telling you she works for me," Kim snapped.

"Hey, I believe you," Kelly said. "And that's what interests me. Even my internist and ophthalmologist divorced their wives to marry their receptionists. I'm smelling a story here. What is this, the typical male medical midlife crisis scenario?"

"I want you to stay away from her," Kim growled.

"Oh, come on, Dr. Reggis," Kelly said. "You cardiac surgeons think of yourselves as celebrities. This is the kind of thing that comes with the turf, especially if you date people half your age."

Becky leaned over to Caroline and whispered: "I'll see ya. Here comes my father's dorky girlfriend." Becky stood up, entered the rink, and quickly skated off.

Ginger came straight to Kim, and before he knew what she intended, she managed to plant a forceful kiss on his cheek. "Sorry, darling," she said. "I know I was out of sorts on the phone this morning. I was just missing you.

"Hmmm! Not very businesslike," Kelly remarked. "Lipstick evidence."

Kim used the back of his hand to wipe his cheek.

"Uh-oh!" Ginger commented when she saw the red imprint of her lips on Kim's skin. "Let me get it off."

Ginger licked two of her fingers, and before Kim could react again, she smeared the lipstick.

"This is perfect," Kelly commented.

Ginger turned to Kelly and immediately recognized her as a local celebrity. "Kelly Anderson!" she gushed. "What a treat. I adore you on the news."

"Why, thank you," Kelly said. "And you are…"

"Ginger Powers."

"Nice to meet you, Ginger," Kelly said. "Let me give you one of my cards. Perhaps we could get together."

"Why, thank you," Ginger said. She took the card and smiled with true glee. "I'd love to get together."

"Good," Kelly said. "I do a number of health-related stories, and I'm always looking for the opinions of those in the business."

"You'd want to interview me?" Ginger questioned. She was surprised and flattered.

"Why not?" Kelly said.

Ginger pointed to Kim. "He's the one you should interview, not me. He knows everything about medicine."

"Sounds like you have a high opinion of the good doctor," Kelly said. "Would that be safe to say?"

"As if there's a question," Ginger said with fake indignation. "He's the best cardiac surgeon in the world. And he's the best-looking too." Ginger tried to tweak Kim's cheek, but this time he evaded her.

"With that, I think I'll take my leave," Kelly said. "Come on, Caroline. Let's get your coat on and get the show on the road. And Ginger, give me a call! I'm serious about talking to you. And Kim, I can certainly understand why you have Ginger for your receptionist and companion."

Kelly and Caroline walked away, with Kelly carrying her daughter's skates and backpack. Caroline was having trouble getting into her long, down-filled coat.

"She's really nice," Ginger said, watching Kelly's figure recede.

"She's a shark," Kim said. "And I don't want you talking with her."

"Why not?" Ginger said.

"She's given me nothing but grief," Kim said.

"But it would be fun," Ginger whined.

"Listen," Kim spat. "You talk to her and you're out of a job and my life. Understand?"

"All right!" Ginger snapped back. "Gosh, what a grouch. What's wrong with you?"

Becky, who'd been doing some warm-up exercises, skated over to where Kim and Ginger were standing.

"I can't take a lesson," Becky said. She stepped off the ice, sat down, and began quickly removing her skates.

"Why not?" Kim asked.

"My stomach is worse," Becky said. "And I have to use the bathroom, bad!"

Sunday, January 18th

Kim lifted out Harvey Arnold's hospital chart and cracked it open. It was before eight in the morning and the day-shift nursing crew was busy having its report. Consequently Kim had the nurses' station to himself save for the ward clerk.

He turned to the nurses' notes to read what had transpired during the previous day and during the night. He suppressed a smile. It was apparent from some of the entries that Mrs. Arnold was bothering the nursing staff as much as she bothered him. It was also apparent Mr. Arnold was doing fine. This impression was confirmed by the graphs of his vital signs, the input and output sheet, and the previous day's laboratory values. Satisfied, Kim slipped the loose-leaf chart back into its slot and walked down to his patient's room.

Mr. Arnold was sitting up in his bed, eating his breakfast and watching TV. Kim silently marveled at the progress cardiac surgery had made over the last couple of decades as evidenced by this individual. Here was a seventy-year-old man who less than forty-eight hours previously had been gravely ill and had had open-heart surgery. His heart had literally been stopped, opened, and repaired, and yet he was already relatively happy, mostly pain-free, and enjoying a significant improvement in the quality of his life. Kim couldn't help but feel a keen disappointment that such a miracle was being devalued in the current economic environment.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Arnold?" Kim asked.

"Pretty good," Mr. Arnold said. He wiped his chin with his napkin. When he was by himself, Mr. Arnold was a pleasant gentleman. It was when the husband and wife were together that the sparks began to fly.

Kim interrupted his patient's breakfast long enough to check on the dressing and the amount of drainage. Everything was progressing on schedule.

"Are you sure I'll be able to play golf?" Mr. Arnold asked.

"Absolutely," Kim said. "You'll be able to do whatever you want."

After a few more minutes of banter, Kim took his leave. Unfortunately he ran into Gertrude Arnold on her way in.

"There you are, doctor," Mrs. Arnold said. "I'm glad I caught you. I want a private-duty nurse in here around the clock, you hear?"

"What's the problem?" Kim asked.

"The problem?" Mrs. Arnold echoed. "I'll tell you what the problem is. The nurses on this floor are never available. Sometimes hours go by before we see one. And when Harvey rings his call button they take their sweet time."

"I imagine that's because they believe Mr. Arnold is doing well," Kim explained. "And that they are devoting their time to patients who are not doing quite so well."

"Now, don't you start making excuses for them," Mrs. Arnold said. "I want a nurse in here all the time."

"I'll have someone come to talk to you about it," Kim said.

Momentarily mollified, Mrs. Arnold nodded. "Don't make me wait too long."

"I'll see what I can do," Kim said.

Back at the nurses' station Kim told the ward clerk to page the AmeriCare administrator and have him come up to talk to Mrs. Arnold. Kim couldn't help smiling as he waited for the elevator. He would have loved to hear the conversation that would ensue. The idea of causing the AmeriCare administrators a little grief was enormously entertaining.

The elevator arrived and Kim squeezed on. It was remarkably crowded for a Sunday morning. Kim found himself pressed up against a tall, bony resident dressed in the typical "whites" and whose name tag read: JOHN MARKHAM, M.D., PEDIATRICS.

"Excuse me," Kim said. "Are there any enteric viruses making the rounds these days in school-age kids?"

"Not that I'm aware of," John said. "We've been seeing a pretty nasty strain of the flu, but it's all respiratory. Why do you ask?"

"My daughter's got a GI upset," Kim said.

"What are the symptoms?" John asked.

"It started with cramps yesterday morning," Kim said. "Then diarrhea. I've treated her with some over-the-counter antidiarrheal agents."