The entire sixth floor of Southeastern State University Hospital was a designated critical care area consisting of four separate intensive care units. After walking down a wide corridor, Helen and Jack arrived at ICU 3. She tapped on a metal plate and the two frosted glass doors swung open.
The unit was laid out in a circular configuration with the nursing station and all of its monitoring equipment in the middle. The patient rooms ran the entire circumference of the spacious unit like the spokes of a wheel. Similar to the lobby, it was obvious to Jack no money had been spared on its design and construction. It was always amazing to him that irrespective of what state he was in, all intensive care units had the same mineral scent.
“Tomorrow night we’ve arranged a dinner at your hotel,” Helen said. “It will be mostly social but we’d like to spend some time discussing the GNS cases if you’re amenable.”
“Of course,” Jack said. “I understand Dr. Sanchez recently stepped down as your chief of neurology. Have you named his successor?”
“Not yet, but our search committee has already interviewed a few promising candidates. In the meantime, Hollis Sinclair is serving as interim chief. He’s an excellent clinician and teacher.” She paused briefly. From her expression, Jack got the feeling she was collecting her thoughts and had something to add. “At times, Hollis can seem a little proud and single-minded, but I assure you he always has the best interests of his patients at heart. I’m sure you two will work well together.”
Helen’s comments struck an immediate cautionary note in Jack’s mind. He assumed in the interest of diplomacy, they had been understated. He’d never met Sinclair, nor did he know of him by reputation, but when somebody was easy to work with, it generally wasn’t necessary to point it out.
“I fully understand your close friendship with Mike may complicate matters,” Helen mentioned. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you,” he said, thinking to himself it was nice to hear Helen acknowledge that she was keenly aware of his predicament.
Helen motioned to a young man working on a laptop. He returned the wave, stood up and walked over. Appearing sleep deprived and skeletal, his Brillo-y black hair and Ringo Starr mustache were both screaming for a grooming. An iPod was hitched to his frayed brown belt right next to a standard-issue hospital phone. The pockets of his white coat overflowed with an assortment of folded papers and medical manuals.
“I’d like you to meet Marc Jaylind,” Helen said. “He’s our senior fellow in perinatology. He’s been working very closely with our division chief, Madison Shaw, on these cases. He’ll get you acquainted and answer any questions you may have.”
Marc extended his hand, “Welcome to Southeastern State, Dr. Wyatt.”
“I appreciate the invitation. It’s a pleasure to be here.”
“I have a meeting so I’ll let you two get started,” she said above the shrill alarm of one of the cardiac monitors.
“Dr. Morales mentioned you’d probably want to begin by being briefed on Tess Ryan before we discussed the other patients.” Marc pointed toward the nursing station. “There’s a physician’s conference room over there.”
“How did you get interested in perinatology?” he asked Marc as they made their way past a portable X-ray machine.
“I saw a lot of high-risk pregnancies at Northwestern during my OB residency. Most of the other residents hated complicated obstetrics. I really liked it.”
“Well, if Southeastern State’s perinatology fellowship’s anything like Ohio State’s, I’m sure you’ve been working your tail off.”
“It hasn’t exactly been a pajama party, I’ll give you that. I was an optometrist for five years before I decided to go to med school, so I’m a little older than most of the other residents and fellows.” He grinned and held up a hand. “I know. It sounds kind of strange.”
“Not really. I did a year of vet school before switching into medicine.”
“Any regrets?” Marc inquired with a sidelong glance.
“From time to time, I guess,” he answered. “Are you coming to dinner tomorrow night?”
“I’m afraid not. No bottom-feeders. Only the elite are invited.”
Jack chuckled. “Well, at least you can take comfort in the fact that you’re only a few months from the promised land. If it makes you feel any better, we all had to pay our dues.”
The main part of the ICU was visible from the physician conference room through a large glass window. In the center of the room was a table with six chairs around it. Marc sat down, extending his legs and crossing them at the ankles. Jack took the seat directly across from him.
“I heard you’ve spent quite a bit of time with these patients. I guess that makes you the GNS expert.”
“I’m afraid GNS expert would be a strong contender for the oxymoron of the month.”
Jack smiled. “How are the babies doing?”
“They seem to be holding their own—at least to this point. Two quad screens have been done on each of them, which have all been normal. The other hospitals are reporting the same thing. We are planning on—”
Jack held up his hand. “Quad screen? My perinatology’s a little rusty. You’ll have to refresh my memory.”
“Beginning at eighteen or nineteen weeks, we measure four hormones levels in the mother’s blood. If any of them is abnormal, it can be an indication of fetal distress or the development of a serious malformation. We’ve also done ultrasounds and amniocenteses on almost all of the patients, and they’ve all been normal.”
Jack would be the first to admit he suffered from his fair share of professional shortcomings, but being completely clueless regarding a medical case had never been one of them. But at the moment, that’s exactly how he felt. Just then, the door opened and the unit secretary poked her head in.
“Everybody’s looking for you, Marc. They’re ready to start rounds.”
He stood up, removed his stethoscope from around his neck and shoved it into his back pocket.
“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to Dr. Shaw. I’m sure she’s looking forward to meeting you.”
Jack followed Marc out of the room. He had always relied heavily on first impressions. Marc struck him as bright, personable and mature. Spending a great deal of time with the residents and fellows at Ohio State, he often wondered how a particular one would fare in the real world after his or her training was over. In the case of Marc Jaylind, he had little doubt a promising career awaited him.