Helen Morales sat behind her desk reviewing the agenda for the emergency meeting of the hospital board that was scheduled to take place in a few hours. When Hollis Sinclair had told her he would make sure such a meeting took place, she hadn’t doubted it for a second. She was still looking over the agenda when the beep of her intercom startled her.
“Dr. Morales. President Carmichael would like to speak with you.”
“Put her through, and please hold any other calls.”
“She’s not on the phone…she’s here in the office,” Ali said in a voice just loud enough for Helen to hear.
“I’ll be right out.”
Donna Anne Carmichael had been the president of Southeastern State University for the past sixteen years. Formally educated and having earned her doctorate in ancient languages, she was a consummate academician, masterful at defining crucial initiatives and rallying people to the cause. Her fund-raising efforts and accomplishments were a model for all university presidents to aspire to.
Helen greeted Carmichael warmly and escorted her to the couch.
“I hope you don’t mind me dropping in without calling first, but I thought it might be a good idea if we spoke before today’s meeting. To begin, I want you to know I have supreme confidence in your judgment.”
“Thank you.”
“As president, the only higher-ups whom I’m constantly massaging are the university trustees. I’m not generally bombarded with phone calls from the hospital board members,” she explained. “But it’s understandable that this whole GNS thing has left them…well, in a prickly mood. Some of them have been persuaded by Hollis Sinclair that Dr. Wyatt’s presence here at Southeastern State has been quite counterproductive.”
“Jack Wyatt is an outstanding physician with a laudable national reputation. I feel fortunate he agreed to serve as a guest professor. His input has been very helpful. Hollis Sinclair’s a talented physician but he’s been behaving badly for the past week or so. The bottom line is I have no regrets about inviting Jack Wyatt here.”
“I’m sure you’re aware that there are a number of highly respected doctors on Southeastern State’s medical staff who believe his chimerism-flu vaccine theory is a Hail Mary at best.”
“I guess that remains to be seen.”
“Has Tess shown any signs of improvement?”
“It’s only been a little more than two days since we removed Tess’s thyroid, Madame President.”
“I’ll take that as a no. What’s your long-term plan?”
“I’m not sure I have a long-term plan. For now, we’re going to continue to wait for signs of recovery.”
“Any idea how long?” Carmichael asked.
“I think that’s up to her husband. As far as the other families are concerned, we can offer them other treatment options.”
“Dr. Sinclair strongly opposes that idea, and I believe both the trustees of the University and the hospital board members agree with him. And to be honest with you, I’m not sure I don’t as well. We don’t want to come across as desperate and experimenting with people’s lives. Dr. Sinclair insists as long as we’re observing Tess Ryan, it would be a grave error in judgment to proceed with Vitracide.”
“Are you asking me for a specific date when we should abandon Jack Wyatt’s treatment plan?” Helen asked.
“Yes, I am. On a national level, Dr. Sinclair’s been by far the most verbal proponent of Vitracide. I think our colleagues across the country are watching us here at Southeastern State waiting to follow our lead.” By her tone and demeanor, Donna struck Helen as a woman who was sensing she was running out of room to maneuver.
“If we don’t see any improvement in Tess’s condition in the next three days, I’ll support abandoning Dr. Wyatt’s treatment plan and recommend moving ahead immediately with Vitracide.”
“Shall we say the morning of the twenty-sixth?”
“Of course.”
“One final thought: If and when we do begin Vitracide therapy, perhaps that would be an appropriate time for Dr. Wyatt to…to resume his responsibilities at Ohio State.” Helen shook her head and splayed her fingers out on the armrests of her chair.
Carmichael started to get up and Helen followed. “I’ll ask you again. This time just between us girls: Any regrets about inviting Jack Wyatt here?”
Helen sighed. “I’m not sure. Ask me again in forty-eight hours.”