Arthur Hailey - Strong Medicine

In the case of Andrew's career, only one thing marred it slightly, and just how important that worry was, Andrew himself was uncertain. It concerned Noah Townsend. Andrew's senior partner had, over a handful of widely separated occasions, exhibited what could have been signs of emotional instability. Or perhaps, when Andrew thought about it, bizarre behavior was a more accurate description. What puzzled Andrew was that both characteristics were alien to the nature of the older, dignified physician as Andrew had observed it day by day. There were three incidents that Andrew knew of. One was when Noah, during a conversation in his office with Andrew, became impatient because of a telephone call that interrupted him. After a brusque response to the call, he yanked the telephone cord from the wall and hurled the instrument across the office where it hit a file cabinet and broke. Then Noah continued talking as if nothing had happened. Next day a replacement telephone was on Noah's desk-, the fate of the old one was never mentioned. Some six weeks later Andrew was in Noah's car, with Noah driving. Suddenly, to Andrew's horror, they were hurtling through Morristown with the accelerator floored, skidding around corners, and going through a red light. Andrew shouted a warning, but Noah appeared not to hear. Through extraordinary luck, no accident occurred, and they raced into St. Bede's parking lot, then slid to a halt with a screech of tires. While Andrew was protesting, Noah just shrugged-and the next time Andrew observed Noah driving, it was at a safe speed with normal caution. A third incident, again widely separated from the others, but the most distressing, involved their office receptionist-secretary, Mrs. Parsons, who had worked for Noah for many years, long before Andrew's arrival. True, Violet Parsons in her mid-sixties was slowing down and was occasionally forgetful. But it was seldom about anything important, and she was good with patients, who liked her. She and Andrew got along well, and her devotion to Noah-close to adoration-was an in-house joke. Until an incident about a check. In preparing one for payment of office supplies, Violet made an error. The invoice was for forty-five dollars. She reversed the figures, made out the check for fifty-four dollars, and left it on Noah's desk for him to sign. In practical terms it didn't matter, since the extra amount would have appeared as a credit on the following month's bill. But Noah stormed into the reception area with the check in his hand and shouted at Violet Parsons, "You stupid bitch! Are you trying to ruin me by giving away my money?" Andrew, who happened to be entering the office at that moment, could hardly believe what he was hearing. Nor, it seemed, could Violet, who stood up and replied with dignity, "Dr. Townsend, I have never been spoken to in that manner before, and do not intend to have it happen again. I am leaving now and will not be back.”

When Andrew tried to intervene, Noah snapped, "Stay out of this!" And Violet said, "Thank you Dr. Jordan, but I no longer work here.”

Next day Andrew tried to bring up the subject with Noah, but the older man merely growled, "She wasn't doing her job. I've hired someone else; she starts tomorrow.”

If the incidents had been less isolated or more frequent, Andrew might have had greater concern. But, he reasoned, as everyone grew older the pressures of work and daily living could cause tensions to erupt and tempers fray. It was, after all, a human characteristic. Andrew himself felt those pressures at times, with a resultant edginess which he contained. Noah, it seemed, had not contained his. Still, the incidents troubled Andrew.

Celia's career activities were more upbeat. In February 1960, on a day when she had left her sales territory to transact some business at Felding-Roth headquarters, Sam Hawthorne summoned her to his office. Sam was in a relaxed mood and greeted Celia cordially. His new responsibilities in national sales did not appear to be wearing him down, she thought-a good sign. Also, in view of her own long-term plans, an optimistic one. Sam's hair, though, was noticeably thinner; by his fortieth birthday, now a year away, he would probably be bald, though the look seemed to suit him. "I wanted to see you about the national sales meeting," he announced. Celia already knew that Felding-Roth's biennial sales convention would be held at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York in April. While private and closed to outsiders, the affair was attended by all company sales people in the United States, plus officers of Felding-Roth subsidiaries abroad. As well, the chairman, president and other senior executives would be present during the three-day proceedings. "I'm expecting to be there," Celia said.”I hope you're not going to tell me it's for men only.”

"Not only is it not men only, but the top brass want you to be one of the speakers.”

"I'll do it," Celia said. Sam observed dryly, "I was sure of that. Now, about the subject. I've talked to Eli Camperdown and what he and others would like is for you -to describe some of your selling experiences-from a feminine point of view. There's a suggested title: 'A Woman Looks at Pharmaceutical Detailing.'" "I can't see it on a movie marquee," Celia said, "but it'll do," "You should keep your talk light, possibly humorous," Sam continued. "Nothing heavy or serious. Nothing controversial. And ten to fifteen minutes should be enough.”

Celia said thoughtfully, “.

"I see.”

"If you like, you can submit a draft. Then I'll go over it and make suggestions.”

"I'll remember that offer," said Celia, who already had ideas about her speech and had no intention of submitting anything. "Sales in your territory have been excellent," Sam complimented her. "Keep it up!" "I intend to," she acknowledged, "though some new products would help, By the way, what happened to the one Mr. Camperdown talked about a year ago-Thalidomide?" "We dropped it. Gave it back to Chemie-Griinenthal. Said thanks but no thanks.”

"Why?" "According to our research people," Sam explained, "it wasn't a good drug. They tried it out in those old people's homes, as you arranged. As a sleep aid it didn't seem to work.”

"And that's the end?"

"So far as Felding-Roth is concerned. I just heard, though, that the Merrell Company has taken Thalidomide on. They're calling it Kevadon and they plan a big launching here and in Canada.”

He added, "With all the success Thalidomide has had in Europe, that's not surprising.”

"You sound unhappy," Celia said.”Do you think our company made a mistake?" Sam shrugged.”Maybe. But we can only sell what our research department approves, and this is one they didn't.”

He hesitated, then said, "I may as well tell you, Celia, there are a few people around here who are criticizing you because our testing of Thalidomide was limited to old people and wasn't more widespread -as Vincent Lord originally wanted.”

"Are you one of the critics?" "No. At the time, if you remember, I agreed with you.”

"I do remember.”

Celia considered, then she asked, "Is the other criticism important?" "To you?" Sam shook his head.”I don't think so.”

At home, during the evenings and weekends which followed, Celia worked on her sales meeting speech. In the quiet, comfortable study-den she and Andrew enjoyed sharing, she surrounded herself with papers and notes. Watching her one Sunday, Andrew observed, "You're cooking up something, aren't you?" "Yes," she admitted, "I am.”

"Will you tell me?" "I'll tell you later," Celia said.”If I tell you now, you'll try to talk me out of it.”

Andrew smiled and was wise enough to leave it there. 7

"I know that most of you are married," Celia said, looking out over the sea of male faces that confronted her, "so you know how it is with us women. We're often vague, we get mixed up, and sometimes forget things altogether.”