“I don’t care what Jack Wyatt and Madison Shaw think,” Sinclair told Helen with defiance. “What occurred this morning was nothing short of a travesty of professional conduct on both their parts. For reasons I can only equate to gross medical malfeasance, we’re unnecessarily delaying the care of thousands of critically ill women by withholding Vitracide.”
“We’re not telling other hospitals what to do. They’re free to go ahead with antiviral therapy.”
“Without my lead and the support of Southeastern State? That’s never going to happen.” He threw his hands up in the air and leaned forward over the edge of Helen’s desk. “And, to make matters worse, we’re subjecting these patients to a dangerous form of never-before-tried therapy that makes Vitracide look like a mild laxative. I’m going to speak to every board member, and when I do, my official position will be that changing Southeastern State’s recommended treatment plan without even discussing it with them was unconscionable and a flagrant breach of medical ethics.”
Helen held up a calming hand. “I’ve spoken to every board member and given them my opinion. Because of the new circumstances, they have instructed me to proceed as I see fit.”
“Even if that means—”
“I’m the dean of this medical school, Hollis, and I believe there’s sufficient scientific merit in Jack Wyatt’s theory to justify waiting a little longer before initiating Vitracide therapy.”
“I advocate the use of an FDA-approved drug and I’m called a medical heretic. Wyatt and his girlfriend propose an experimental operation with no scientific basis and you tell me it makes sense to you. Pardon me for being a little grumpy regarding your sense of fairness and request for my support.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but my decision’s final. We’re going to give Tess Ryan a reasonable amount of time to show signs of recovery before beginning your program of Vitracide.”
“What’s a reasonable amount of time?”
“A few days. And, as I’m sure you know, Mike Ryan has given his complete consent and favors waiting as well.”
“If Mr. Ryan wants to consent to a misguided private medical experiment and turn his wife into a guinea pig, that’s his choice. But in my opinion this is a page right out of Dr. Josef Mengele’s diary.”
“Your concern for the safety of Tess Ryan is duly noted.”
Sinclair’s face tightened with rage. “Every day brings more deaths from this disease. Supposing, while we’re waiting to see if this ridiculous treatment plan works, other patients deteriorate and we lose the one opportunity to cure them and their babies. How will you be judged then?”
“I’m not saying we should be inflexible. If there’s good reason to proceed with Vitracide sooner, that’s exactly what we’ll do. In the meantime, let’s hope Tess Ryan improves.”
With a defiant snicker, he said, “You’re wasting your time. That’s never going to happen. She’s a dead woman.”
“Hollis, as your dean, I’m again asking for your support on this.”
“That’s not going to happen. I’m not going to dismiss the oath I took just so that I can be politically correct. Any further delay in beginning Vitracide puts our patients in grave peril.” He pushed back in his chair. “I’m sure you’re aware there’s a strong feeling amongst many of the medical staff that Dr. Wyatt’s presence at Southeastern State has been extremely disruptive. Just because his best pal’s an important donor doesn’t mean inviting him here was a wise or appropriate thing to do. He should have been thanked politely for his services and then asked to leave days ago.”
“It was my decision to invite Jack Wyatt to Southeastern State. If you or anybody else on this faculty has a problem with that, then I recommend you submit a formal complaint to the board and we can handle it as prescribed by due process.”
Making no effort to conceal his smirk, Sinclair started for the door. “I don’t care what the board members told you informally. I’m going to insist on an emergency meeting. Let them look me in the eye and tell me they’re willing to let thousands of women die needlessly.” Without waiting for a response, he marched out of her office.
Feeling a tight lump forming at the top of her stomach, Helen pressed her palms to her eyes. She opened her desk drawer, pulled out one of her chewable antacid pills and popped it in her mouth. After a minute or so, she reached for the phone. Anticipating Sinclair’s next move, she dialed the president of the university.