Tom Chang took his wife's hand. "You see? Everything will be fine, Sye. You must be patient."
"I understand," she said. There was no conviction in her voice.
As they talked, a man walked into the cafeteria, and as he stood at the door, Paige could see only the back of his head. Her heart started to race. He turned around. It was a complete stranger.
Chang was watching Paige. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," Paige lied. I've got to forget him. It's over. And yet, the memories of all those wonderful years, the fun, the excitement, the love they had for each other . . . How do I forget all that'? I wonder if I could persuade any of the doctors here to do a lobotomy on me.
Paige ran into Honey in the corridor. Honey was out of breath and looked worried.
"Is everything all right?" Paige asked.
Honey smiled uneasily. "Yes. Fine." She hurried on.
Honey had been assigned to an attending physician named Charles Isler, who was known around the hospital as a martinet.
On Honey's first day of rounds, he had said, "I've been looking forward to working with you, Dr. Taft. Dr. Wallace has told me about your outstanding record at medical school. I understand you're going to practice internal medicine."
"Yes."
"Good. So, we'll have you here for three more years."
They began their rounds.
The first patient was a young Mexican boy. Dr. Isler ignored the other residents and turned to Honey. "I think you'll find this an interesting case, Dr. Taft. The patient has all the classic signs and symptoms: anorexia, weight loss, metallic taste, fatigue, anemia, hyperirritability, and uncoordination. How would you diagnose it?" He smiled expectantly.
Honey looked at him a moment. "Well, it could be several things, couldn't it?"
Dr. Isler was watching her, puzzled. "It's a clear-cut case of—"
One of the other residents broke in, "Lead poisoning?"
"That's right," Dr. Isler said.
Honey smiled. "Of course. Lead poisoning."
Dr. Isler turned to Honey again. "How would you treat it?"
Honey said evasively,' 'Well, there are several different methods of treatment, aren't there?"
A second resident spoke up. "If the patient has had long-term exposure, he should be treated as a potential case of encephalopathy."
Dr. Isler nodded. "Right. That's what we're doing. We're correcting the dehydration and electrolyte disturbances, and giving him chelation therapy."
He looked at Honey. She nodded in agreement.
The next patient was a man in his eighties. His eyes were red and his eyelids were stuck together.
"We'll have your eyes taken care of in a moment," Dr. Isler assured him. "How are you feeling?"
"Oh, not too bad for an old man."
Dr. Isler pulled aside the blanket to reveal the patient's swollen knee and ankle. There were lesions on the soles of his feet.
Dr. Isler turned to the residents. "The swelling is caused by arthritis." He looked at Honey. "Combined with the lesions and the conjunctivitis, I'm sure you know what the diagnosis is."
Honey said slowly, "Well, it could be ... you know . . ."
"It's Reiter's syndrome," one of the residents spoke up. "The cause is unknown. It's usually accompanied by low-grade fever."
Dr. Isler nodded. "That's right." He looked at Honey. "What is the prognosis?"
"The prognosis?"
The other resident replied. ' 'The prognosis is unclear. It can be treated with anti-inflammation drugs."
"Very good," Dr. Isler said.
They made the rounds of a dozen more patients, and when they were finished, Honey said to Dr. Isler, "Could I see you for a moment alone, Dr. Isler?"
"Yes. Come into my office."
When they were seated in his office, Honey said, "I know you're disappointed in me."
"I must admit that I was a little surprised that you—"
Honey interrupted. "I know, Dr. Isler. I didn't close my eyes last night. To tell you the truth, I was so excited about working with you that I... I just couldn't sleep."
He looked at her in surprise. "Oh. I see. I knew there had to be a reason for ... I mean, your medical school record was so fantastic. What made you decide to become a doctor?"
Honey looked down for a moment, then said softly, "I had a younger brother who was injured in an accident. The doctors did everything they could to try to save him ... but I watched him die. It took a long time, and I felt so helpless. I decided then that I was going to spend my life helping other people get well." Her eyes welled up with tears.
She's so vulnerable, Isler thought. "I'm glad we had this little talk." Honey looked at him and thought, He believed me.
Chapter Six
Across town, in another part of the city, reporters and TV crews were waiting in the street for Lou Dinetto as he left the courtroom, smiling and waving, the greeting of royalty to the peasants. There were two bodyguards at his side, a tall, thin man known as the Shadow, and a heavy set man called Rhino. Lou Dinetto was, as always, dressed elegantly and expensively, in a gray silk suit with a white shirt, blue tie, and alligator shoes. His clothes had to be carefully tailored to make him look trim, because he was short and stout, with bandy legs. He always had a smile and a ready quip for the press, and they enjoyed quoting him. Dinetto had been indicted and tried three times on charges ranging from arson to racketeering to murder, and each time had gone free.
Now as he left the courtroom, one of the reporters yelled out, "Did you know you were going to be acquitted, Mr. Dinetto?"