tc.redrabbit-第68章

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ould　decide　if　the　growth　was　benign　or　malignant。　Cathy　hoped　for　the　former；　as　the　malignant　variety　of　this　tumor　could　be　troublesome　for　its　victims。　But　the　odds　were　heavily　on　the　patient's　side；　she　thought。　On　visual　examination　it　didn't　look　terribly　aggressive；　and　her　eye　was　right　about　85　percent　of　the　time。　It　was　bad　science　to　tell　herself　that；　and　she　knew　it。　It　was　almost　superstition；　but　surgeons；　like　baseball　players；　knew　about　superstition。　That　was　why　they　put　their　socks　on　the　same　way　every　morning…pantyhose；　in　her　case…because　they　just　fell　into　a　pattern　of　living；　and　surgeons　were　creatures　of　habit；　and　they　tended　to　translate　those　dumb　personal　habits　into　the　oute　of　their　procedures。　So；　with　the　frozen　section　off　to　Pathology；　it　was　just　a　matter　of　excising　the　pinkish…gray　encapsulated　mass。。。
　　　〃What　time　is　it；　Geoffrey？〃　Dr。　Hood　asked。
　　　〃Quarter　to　one；　Clive；〃　Dr。　Phillips　reported；　checking　the　wall　clock。
　　　〃How　about　we　break　for　lunch；　then？〃
　　　〃Fine　with　me。　I　could　use　something　to　eat。　We'll　need　to　call　in　another　anesthesiologist　to　keep　Mr。　Smithson　unconscious；〃　their　gas…passer　observed。
　　　〃Well；　call　and　get　one；　Owen；　would　you？〃　Hood　suggested。
　　　〃Righto；〃　Dr。　Ellis　agreed。　He　left　his　chair　at　the　patient's　head　and　walked　to　the　wall　phone。　He　was　back　in　seconds。　〃Two　minutes。〃
　　　〃Excellent。　Where　to；　Geoffrey？〃　Hood　asked。
　　　〃The　Frog　and　Toad？　They　serve　a　fine　bacon；　lettuce；　and　tomato　with　chips。〃
　　　〃Splendid；〃　Hood　said。
　　　Cathy　Ryan；　standing　behind　Dr。　Phillips；　kept　her　mouth　shut　behind　the　surgical　mask；　but　her　china…blue　eyes　had　gone　wide。　They　were　leaving　a　patient　unconscious　on　the　table　while　they　went　to　lunch？　Who　were　these　guys；　witch　doctors？
　　　The　backup　anesthesiologist　came　in　just　then；　all　gowned　up　and　ready　to　take　over。　〃Anything　I　need　to　know；　Owen？〃　he　asked　Ellis。
　　　〃Entirely　routine；〃　the　primary　gas…passer　replied。　He　pointed　to　the　various　instruments　measuring　the　patient's　vital　signs；　and　they　were　all　in　the　dead　center　of　normal　values；　Cathy　saw。　But　even　so。。。
　　　Hood　led　them　out　to　the　dressing　room；　where　the　four　medics　shucked　their　greens　and　grabbed　their　coats；　then　left　for　the　corridor　and　the　steps　down　to　street　level。　Cathy　followed；　not　knowing　what　else　to　do。
　　　〃So；　Caroline；　how　do　you　like　London？〃　Hood　asked　pleasantly。
　　　〃We　like　it　a　lot；〃　she　answered；　still　somewhat　shell…shocked。
　　　〃And　your　children？〃
　　　〃Well；　we　have　a　very　nice　nanny；　a　young　lady　from　South　Africa。〃
　　　〃One　of　our　more　civilized　local　customs；〃　Phillips　observed　approvingly。
　　　The　pub　was　scarcely　a　block　away；　west　on　City　Road。　A　table　was　quickly　found。　Hood　immediately　fished　out　a　cigarette　and　lit　it。　He　noticed　Cathy's　disapproving　look。
　　　〃Yes；　Mrs。　Ryan；　I　know　it's　not　healthy　and　bad　form　for　a　physician；　but　we　are　all　entitled　to　one　human　weakness；　aren't　we？〃
　　　〃You're　seeking　approval　from　the　wrong　person；〃　she　responded。
　　　〃Ah；　well；　I'll　blow　the　smoke　away　from　you；　then。〃　Hood　had　himself　a　chuckle　as　the　waiter　came　over。　〃What　sort　of　beer　do　you　have　here？〃　he　asked　him。
　　　It　was　good　that　he　smoked；　Cathy　told　herself。　She　had　trouble　handling　more　than　one　major　shock　at　a　time；　but　at　least　that　one　gave　her　fair　warning。　Hood　and　Phillips　both　decided　on　John　Courage。　Ellis　preferred　Tetley's。　Cathy　opted　for　a　Coca…Cola。　The　docs　mainly　talked　shop；　as　physicians　often　do。
　　　For　her　part；　Caroline　Ryan　sat　back　in　her　wooden　chair；　observing　three　physicians　enjoying　beer；　and；　in　one　case；　a　smoke；　while　their　blissfully　unconscious　patient　was　on　nitrous　oxide　in　Operating　Room　#3。
　　　〃So；　how　do　we　do　things　here？　Differently　from　Johns　Hopkins？〃　Hood　asked；　as　he　stubbed　out　his　cigarette。
　　　Cathy　nearly　gagged；　but　decided　not　to　make　any　of　the　ments　running　around　her　brain。　〃Well；　surgery　is　surgery。　I'm　surprised　that　you　don't　have　very　many　CAT　scans。　Same　for　MRI　and　PET　scanners。　How　can　you　do　without　them？　I　mean；　at　home；　for　Mr。　Smithson；　I　wouldn't　even　think　of　going　in　without　a　good　set　of　shots　of　the　tumor。　〃
　　　〃She's　right；　you　know；〃　Hood　thought；　after　a　moment's　reflection。　〃Our　bricklayer　chum　could　have　waited　several　months　more　if　we'd　had　a　better　idea　of　the　extent　of　the　growth。〃
　　　〃You　wait　that　long　for　a　hemangioma？〃　Cathy　blurted　out。　〃At　home；　we　take　them　out　immediately。〃　She　didn't　have　to　add　that　these　things　hurt　to　have　inside　your　skull。　It　caused　a　frontal　protrusion　of　the　eyeball　itself；　sometimes　with　blurring　of　vision…which　was　why　Mr。　Smithson　had　gone　to　this　local　doctor　to　begin　with。　He'd　also　reported　god…awful　headaches　that　must　have　driven　him　mad　until　they'd　given　him　a　codeine…based　analgesic。
　　　〃Well；　here　things　operate　a　little　differently。〃
　　　Uh…huh。　That　must　be　a　good　way　to　practice　medicine；　by　the　hour　instead　of　by　the　patient。　Lunch　arrived。　The　sandwich　was　okay…better　than　the　hospital　food　she　was　accustomed　to…but　she　still　couldn't　get　over　these　guys　drinking　beer！　The　local　beer　was　about　double　the　potency　of　American　stuff；　and　they　were　drinking　a　full　pint　of　it…sixteen　ounces！　What　the　hell　was　this？
　　　〃Ketchup　for　your　chips；　Cathy？〃　Ellis　slid　the　bottle　over。　〃Or　should　I　say　Lady　Caroline？　I　hear　that　His　Highness　is　your　son's　godfather？〃
　　　〃Well；　sort　of。　He　agreed　to　it…Jack　asked　him　on　the　spur　of　the　moment　in　the　hospital　at　the　Naval　Academy。　The　real　godparents　are　Robby　and　Sissy　Jackson。　Robby's　a　Navy　fighter　pilot。　Sissy　plays　concert　piano。〃
　　　〃Was　that　the　black　chap　in　the　papers？〃
　　　〃That's　right。　Jack　met　him　when　they　were　both　teachers　at　the　Naval　Academy；　and　they're　very　close　friends。〃
　　　〃Quite　so。　So　the　news　reports　were　correct？　I　mean…〃
　　　〃I　try　not　to　think　about　it。　The　only　good　thing　that　happened　that　night　was　that　Little　Jack　arrived。〃
　　　〃I　quite　understand　that；　Cathy；〃　Ellis　responded　around　his　sandwich。　〃If　the　news　accounts　were　accurate；　it　must　have　been　a　horrid　evening。〃
　　　〃It　wasn't　fun。〃　She　managed　a　smile。　〃The　labor　and　delivery　was　the　good　part。〃
　　　The　three　Brits　had　a　good　laugh　at　that　remark。　All　had　kids；　and　all　had　been　there　for　the　deliveries；　which　were　no　more　fun　for　British　women　than　for　American　women。　Half　an　hour　later；　they　headed　back　to　Moorefields。　Hood　smoked　another　cigarette　along　the　way；　though　he　had　the　good　manners　do　stay　downwind　of　his　American　colleague。　Ten　more　minutes；　and　they　were　back　in　the　OR。　The　pinch…hitting　gas…passer　reported　that　nothing　untoward　had　taken　place；　and　surgery　resumed。
　　　〃Want　me　to　assist　now？〃　Cathy　asked　hopefully。
　　　〃No；　thank　you；　Cathy；〃　Hood　replied。　〃I　have　it；〃　he　added；　bending　over　his　patient；　who；　being　soundly　asleep；　wouldn't　smell　the　beer　on　his　breath。
　　　Caroline　Ryan；　M。D。；　FACS；　thought　to　congratulate　herself　for　not　screaming　her　head　off；　but　mostly　she　leaned　in　as　closely　as　she　could　to　make　sure　these　two　Englishmen　didn't　screw　up　and　remove　the　patient's　ear　by　mistake。　Maybe　the　alcohol　would　help　steady　their　hands；　she　told　herself。　But　she　had　to　concentrate　to　keep　her　own　hands　from　trembling。
　　　The　crown　and　cushion　was　a　delightful；　if　typical；　London　pub。　The　sandwich　was　just　fine；　and　Ryan　enjoyed　a　pint　of　John　Smith　Ale　while　talking　shop　with　Simon。　He　thought　vaguely　about　serving　beer　at　the　CIA　cafeteria；　but　that　would　never　fly。　Someone　in　Congress　would　find　out　and　raise　hell　in　front　of　the　C…Span　cameras；　while　enjoying　a　glass　of　Chardonnay　with　his　lunch　in　the　Capitol　Building；　of　course；　or　something　a　little　stronger　in　his　office。　The　culture　was　just　different　here；　and　vive　la　difference；　he　thought；　walking　across　Westminster　Bridge　Road　toward　Big　Ben…the　bell；　not　the　bell　tower；　which　was；　in　fact；　St。　Mary's　Bell　Tower；　tourist　errors　to　the　contrary。　The　Parliamentarians　there　had　three　or　four　pubs　right　there　in　the　building；　Ryan　was　sure。　And　they　probably　didn't　get　any　drunker　than　their　American　colleagues。
　　　〃You　know；　Simon；　I　think　everyone's　worried　about　this。〃
　　　〃It's　a　pity　he　had　to　send　that　letter　to　Warsaw；　isn't　it？〃