The Family Doctor Read Online Free

Ms.—” Tony had to squint at her name tag. “Ms. Bently, would you just go in and tell the tech that I need this done stat?” He hated to pull rank, but there was no choice in this case. “Tell them the chief of staff is waiting and needs to be seen immediately.”
    â€œOh, they know, Doctor. But see, it’s first come first served. You’ll have to wait your turn like everybody else. Here’s a couple magazines.”
    She plopped two outdated copies of Newsweek on his lap and was gone before he could say another word.
    â€œHell of a thing, ain’t it?” The elderly man in the bed across the hall propped himself up on his elbow and twisted his head around to talk. “S’posed to be the best medical system in the world, here in Canada, and still you gotta lie around goin’ rotten waiting for some test or another. What’re you in for?”
    â€œMy ankle.” Tony tried to be distant without being rude, but the old man was oblivious to subtlety. For the next thirty-five minutes, he regaledTony with the entire history of his bowels and gall bladder operation. By the time an attendant finally came and wheeled him in, Tony felt numb. He went through the test without saying a single word, grateful for the silence, anxious for the results. When it was over, he asked to see the negatives, but the female attendant insisted that Jensen had to see them first.
    â€œLook, I’m a doctor,” Tony insisted. It was getting harder to summon up his usual authoritative tone. He felt exhausted, and his stomach was upset again. The sense of unreality that had begun with the X ray intensified. Still, he tried. “I’m the chief of staff at this hospital. Surely I have the right to see my own results.”
    â€œSorry, Doctor.” The older woman shook her head. “You’re Dr. Jensen’s patient, and he didn’t leave any orders of that sort.”
    By the time he’d been wheeled back to Emerg, Tony was seething again, focusing on the ridiculousness of the rules rather than thinking about what the results of the scan would reveal. But underneath the justifiable anger, he could feel anxiety eating away at his gut like acid.
    Jensen came bustling in after another twenty-minute wait, a brown envelope clamped under his right arm, and Tony’s stomach cramped hard. The bile in his throat burned, and he had to swallow repeatedly before he could croak out, “Is it sarcoma?”
    â€œTony,” Jensen began in a hearty tone, avoiding eye contact again, “I don’t know how to tell you this. There’s been one hell of a mix-up—I owe you an apology. When I looked in the computer for the results of your X ray a while ago, I had no idea another Antony O’Connor had been seen in Emerg this morning. He was complaining of a sore lower leg, and he had an X ray shortly before you did. Turns out it was his X ray we were looking at, not yours. He does indeed have sarcoma.” With a triumphant gesture, Jensen whipped out the negatives from the envelope. “Now, this is you, and as you can see, there’s no fracture, and definitely no sarcoma. We can safely assume all that’s wrong is a severe sprain.”
    The relief that flooded Tony was so intense he felt dizzy. It took several moments before utter fury edged out the thankfulness. How could such a gross mistake happen in his hospital? He opened his mouth to ask and the turmoil in his stomach intensified.
    Suddenly he knew he was going to vomit. He stretched across Jensen, groping for a kidney basin. Jensen shoved one at him only seconds before he threw up.
    With each expulsion, the burning in Tony’s chest intensified, and he began to have difficulty catching his breath. His intestines were on fire, and as his stomach convulsed in agony, he moaned and bent double.
    â€œEasy, Tony.” Jensen was checking his blood pressure. Two ER nurses materialized and took over the