Robin Cook - Foreign Body

“Okay, okay!” Calvin exclaimed, stopping Laurie in midsentence. “I get it. Fine! You guys take your week. We’ll manage.” Calvin picked up his briefcase.

“Thank you, Dr. Washington,” Laurie said. She felt a shiver of excitement. The trip was really going to happen. She followed the deputy chief out of his office.

“Give me a call when you’ll be returning to work,” Calvin called over his shoulder on his way to the front door.

“Will do,” Laurie called back, as she headed for the elevators.

“One more thing,” Calvin called, halfway out the door, keeping it open with his butt. “Give me a souvenir; get pregnant.” With that he left, and the door swung shut.

Like the arrival of a sudden summer storm, a cloud swept over Laurie’s nascent excitement. Calvin’s last comment infuriated her. Turning back to the elevator, she let loose a barrage of expletives. With all the pressure she’d been putting on herself to get pregnant and the despondency it engendered, she didn’t need more. For her, Calvin’s weighing in on the issue was akin to sexual discrimination. After all, he wasn’t about to put equivalent pressures on Jack.

Inside the elevator, she slammed the fifth-floor button with the heel of her fist. She could not believe how insensitive men could be. It was inexcusable.

Then, almost as soon as the fury had arrived, it dissipated. Sudden clairvoyance made Laurie know it was the hormones at work again, similar to her response last night with Jack and in the grocery store with the elderly woman. What surprised and embarrassed her was the speed with which such episodes took place. There wasn’t time to be rational.

Once back in her office and feeling more in control of her emotions, Laurie put in a call to her friend Shirley Schoener. She knew it was a good time, because Shirley set aside eight to nine as the time to be available for phone and e-mail communication with her infertility patients. She answered immediately.

Knowing other patients would be calling, Laurie got right down to business, telling Shirley that she and Jack were leaving for India that evening and why.

“I’m jealous,” Shirley responded. “You are going to find it so... interesting.”

“That’s how someone would describe something he or she didn’t like but felt the need to be diplomatic about,” Laurie responded.

“It’s just that it is difficult to characterize your response to India,” Shirley explained. “The country evokes such a wide range of emotions; it makes simple, generic descriptions useless. But I loved it!”

“We’re not going to have time to really see India,” Laurie said. “It’s going to be in and out, I’m afraid.”

“It doesn’t matter. India is so full of contradictions all over that you’ll sense what I’m talking about irrespective of how long you are there and no matter whether you go to Delhi, Mumbai, or Kolkata. It’s so complex. I was there a year ago for a medical conference, and I just haven’t been the same since. There’s sublime beauty and urban ugliness all mixed together. There’s extreme wealth and the most wrenching poverty you can imagine. I tell you, it takes your breath away. It’s impossible not to be affected by it.”

“Well, we’ll certainly keep our eyes open, but we’re going to be there to deal with Maria Hernandez’s death. But we have to deal with my cycle as well.”

“My goodness,” Shirley exclaimed. “In my enthusiasm about India, I momentarily forgot about that. I feel so positive about this cycle; I don’t want you to go away. I won’t be able to take any credit for when you get pregnant, which I think you are going to do.”

“Now, don’t you put any extra pressure on me,” Laurie said with a chuckle. She related her recent reaction to Calvin’s innocent comment.

“And you were the woman who doubted you’d have a problem with hormones!” Shirley laughed.

“Don’t remind me. But I really didn’t think I would. PMS was never the bother that it is with some of the people I know.”

“So we are going to need you to be seen by someone in New Delhi the first full day after you arrive. We don’t want to take any risk of hyperstimulation.”

“That’s the reason I’m calling. Do you know anyone in New Delhi you could recommend?”

“Lots,” Shirley responded. “Thanks to my having been there for that meeting, I’m in contact with a number. Indian medicine is quite advanced, more than most people realize. I know at least a half-dozen docs I’d feel comfortable recommending for you to see. Any specific requirements, like male or female, or any particular location in the city?”

“What might be handy is if any of those you recommend are associated with the Queen Victoria Hospital,” Laurie said. “It might be helpful to know someone on the staff when we’re dealing with the administration.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I tell you what. I’ll make some calls right now. It’s around quarter-to-six in the evening in Delhi, which is a perfect time. I could e-mail, too, but I think telephoning and talking directly will be better, and I don’t seem to have any incoming calls.”

“Thanks, Shirley,” Laurie said. “I’m certainly going to owe you for all this, but I don’t know how I’m going to repay. I seriously doubt you want any in-kind professional services.”

“Don’t even joke like that,” Shirley said. “I’m too superstitious.”

Disconnecting, Laurie reflexively checked her watch. The Indian visa place didn’t open until nine, so she had some time. The first thing she did was call up the airlines and use her credit card to pay for the tickets she had reserved. Next she called Jennifer. The phone rang four or five times, and when it was finally answered, Laurie expected voicemail. It was Jennifer, who sounded out of breath.

Laurie identified herself and then asked if she were calling at a bad time, because she could easily call back.

“No, this is fine,” Jennifer said, breathing deeply. “I’m having dinner in a fancy Chinese restaurant here in the hotel, and when the phone rang, I ran out here to the lobby to answer it. Guess who I’m having dinner with?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess.”

“A Mrs. Benfatti. She’s the wife of the man who died at the Queen Victoria last night.”

“That’s a coincidence.”

“Not really. I looked her up and we had lunch. I have to say his death has some strange parallels with Granny’s.”

“Really?” Laurie questioned. She wondered if they were real parallels or imagined.

“Gosh, here I am blabbing away, and you called me. Please tell me you are coming to India.”

“We are indeed coming to India,” Laurie said, the excitement showing in her voice.

“Terrific!” Jennifer cheered. “I’m so pleased, you have no idea. Tell Dr. Washington thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“He did send you his regards,” Laurie said. “Have there been any big changes in the situation there?”

“Not really. They are still trying to push me to give them the green light. I did tell them that you guys were coming and will be there Friday morning sometime.”

“Did you mention that we happen to be forensic pathologists?”

“Oh, yeah, most definitely.”

“And their response?”

“Another lecture that there will be no autopsy. They are very adamant.”

“We’ll see,” Laurie said.

“I made it a point to talk with the nurse who took care of Granny. She’s this beauty queen you won’t believe with a figure to die for.”

“Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment.”

“I’m not in her league. She’s the kind of woman who probably can eat anything, and she just looks better and better. She’s also really nice. At first when I met her she acted weird.”