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Read Ebook: But the Patient Lived by Warner Harry Orban Paul Illustrator
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Ebook has 80 lines and 7629 words, and 2 pages
"After that, I start pounding the pavements, hunting a job." Dr. Needzak flexed his long, lean fingers. "Is it hard to learn how to operate ditch diggers?"
Dr. Carson stood up and slapped him on the back. "It isn't that bad. You can find a place in any pharmacy in the country, if we get through this disbarment without publicity. You'll never be rich, handing out irritants and hyper-stimulants, but--"
Dr. Needzak was already striding toward the street. The other two doctors trailed after him, waiting while he locked up carefully. They glanced at one another significantly, noting that he had unconsciously brought along his little black bag. Dr. Needzak explained as they began the two-block walk to association headquarters:
"The kids are married and away from home. I suppose that I can get enough income from sub-leasing the office to keep the wife and me eating until I find--"
A grating crash broke into his sentence. The three doctors whirled simultaneously. Thin wails drifted through the constant rumble of traffic, from somewhere around a corner. People erupted from buildings, running toward the source of the noise. The doctors instinctively trotted after them.
They turned the corner, coming upon a rare sight. It was a motor vehicle accident, first in the business district for months. A school bus lay on its side, just short of the intersection. Children were clambering cautiously from the emergency door. The uniformed driver was ignoring his passengers, staring in disbelief at the radar controls at the street corner, which had failed a moment earlier.
The other vehicle involved in the crash was wrapped around a power pole. It was an auto of antique vintage, produced before full automatic driving provisions. There weren't more than a dozen such vehicles remaining on the streets of the city. The radar controls almost never went on the blink. Only the combination of the vehicle and the inoperative controls could have created an accident.
Dr. Needzak led the other doctors through the thickening crowd, to the side of the bus. Kids were no longer climbing through the emergency exit, but noises were coming from within the vehicle. His bag under his left arm, he hauled himself atop the overturned bus, and dropped through the emergency exit into its half-dark interior. He saw the other two doctors outlined against the sky, as they perched on the horizontal side of the vehicle, peering down, helpless without their bags.
Dr. Needzak found a small boy sprawled awkwardly around a seat, bleeding rapidly from the leg, face ashen, unconscious. The physician clipped off the trousers leg, bound the leg tightly above the deep gash, and slipped on a bandage. Then he lifted the small boy up to Dr. Carson.
A girl was struggling to raise herself from the next seat, obviously unaware that the leg wouldn't support her because it had suffered a compound fracture. Dr. Needzak forced a grin when he attracted her attention. He persuaded her to lie flat. With one quick motion, he rough-set the leg. Then he boosted her out of the vehicle, and looked down to investigate the source of the plucking at his coat.
It was a small, chubby boy, standing beside him. "I'm hurt real bad," the boy said. Needzak ran his hands over the boy's body to make sure the bones were sound. "You better take care of me real quick," the child said, looking more worried than ever.
Dr. Needzak made sure that the blood on the boy's cheek came from only a scratch, and found the heartbeat normal. So he pulled a sugar wafer from his bag and ordered the boy to swallow it.
"Think you can climb out now?" Dr. Needzak asked. The youngster, face brightening, leaped to the door and went out unassisted.
The only child remaining in the vehicle hadn't uttered a sound. But the doctor sensed that her breathing was heavier. He bent over her, and pushed back the lid of her half-closed eye. When he saw the back of her head, he stopped his hasty examination. Her words were barely audible. "Am I hurt bad?"
"Why, there won't even be any pain," Dr. Needzak told her cheerfully. Before he could yell to the other doctors to call for a stretcher, the girl's breathing stopped.
Slowly, as if suddenly tired, Dr. Needzak climbed out of the vehicle.
Police had already dispersed the crowd. Tow trucks were waiting to haul away the vehicles. The injured children were gone. The three doctors resumed their walk.
Dr. Needzak felt the eyes of the other two men on him, lost patience after a moment, and said irritably:
"Go ahead, start bawling me out. But I've not signed anything yet. I'm still a licensed physician. I had every right to help those kids."
The other two doctors stopped, looking at one another, as if trying to probe each other's thoughts. Simultaneous smiles spread over their faces. Dr. Needzak stopped walking, when he heard them starting to laugh. He pushed between them with a frown, asking:
"Look, if you--"
Dr. Carson slapped him on the back, hard. Dr. Manville grasped Dr. Needzak's hand and squeezed it with unexpected strength.
"The same thing hit us both at the same time, I'll bet," the older doctor said. "It would be the ideal thing for you."
Dr. Carson was pumping Dr. Needzak's other hand up and down. "Sure. Emergency physician! I don't know why we didn't think of that in the first place. Accidents still happen now and then. It isn't easy to find doctors who are willing to specialize in them, because it isn't steady income and it doesn't pay a whole lot. But you have those screwball ideas about helping people to get well. And that's just what an emergency physician must do."
"I'll talk to a couple of the men on the association board as soon as I can get to a telephone," Dr. Manville said. "I think I can persuade them to assign you to accidents without going through a disbarring procedure, as long as you agree to stay away from general practice. You're willing, I assume?"
Dr. Needzak pulled his hands free and looked at the spots of dried blood that remained on the fingers and palms. He hadn't been able to wash up after the accident. He saw surgeon's hands, healing hands, hands that would never be satisfied to wrap up syrups or count pills.
"I suppose that it's the best thing in a bad deal. But I'm wondering about accidents. Just the other day, I read an insurance company statement. The insurance statisticians said that accidents have become so scarce in the past decade that they'll be virtually non-existent, in another half-century. I'll be 100 by that time, just in the prime of life. If there aren't any more accident victims, what will I do for a living? I couldn't find a job at that age, you know."
The other two doctors shrugged their shoulders, in unison. With the wisdom of age, Dr. Manville said:
"Well, if you find yourself in that situation, you can always go to see a doctor."
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