me. He said that ... that little problem you had the other day was purely mechanical—a broken wire, not any design or computer flaw. Besides, when is a new technique or drug ever really ready? At some point, clinical scientists have just got to take the bull by the horns and do it.”
Jessie shook her head slowly.
“Spare me, please,” she said.
“Jessie, I appreciate all you’ve done with ARTIE. But I also don’t think you appreciate some of the realities of financing a research-oriented neurosurgical department.”
“Carl, you placed that girl in danger for no reason.”
“If there was any trouble with ARTIE, I was set to open her up and go after her tumor that way. And don’t say the device was used for no reason. Look at these.”
Gilbride withdrew a large, stuffed manila envelope from his briefcase and passed it over. It contained dozens of congratulatory e-mails, phone messages, faxes, and even several telegrams. Patients from countries around the world were already contacting Gilbride, asking him to take a crack with ARTIE at their “inoperable” tumors.
“Please, I was hopeless until now,” one fax read. “I have nothing to lose. Please help me.”
“Congratulations,” Jessie said, hoping her tone reflected her lack of sincerity.
“Two of those faxes and one of those telegrams are from agencies that could or do help fund our research,” Gilbride said, reaching across the desk to separate them from the others. “Here.”
The telegram was from the medical director of Durbin Surgicals. Jessie knew that a good portion of the work on ARTIE had been done with their help through a grant that was in Gilbride’s name, but for which she had written the application.
Dear Carl. We at Durbin are proud that research done in part under one of our career development awards has made such an impressive impact. Congratulations to you, Dr. Copeland, and the rest of your staff. I suspect when you apply for a renewal you will find smooth sailing.
“And look. Look at this one. It’s from the executive director of the MacIntosh Foundation in Los Angeles. You’ve heard of them?”
“Of course.”
Dear Dr. Gilbride,
Congratulations on your successful use of intraoperative robotics in the case of Marci Sheprow. As you know, the MacIntosh Foundation is committed in part to the furtherance of medical science as it directly impacts the public. I know you have been anxiously awaiting our response to your recent grant application to our agency. We are impressed with what you have accomplished, and will be evaluating your research for one of our Class 1 awards, which, as you may know, has a minimum value of three million dollars. I will be contacting you directly should we require any further information, or should our grant awards committee reach a decision on your application.
Sincerely,
Eastman Tolliver
Executive Director
“Three million,” Jessie said, genuinely impressed.
“Just the beginning. Because of this case, we’re going to be right up there with the elite programs in the country. My guess is that by the time this week is over, we’ll be getting more referrals and doing more tumor cases than any other program around. We’re also going to have tremendous clout when it comes to competing with places like Stanford and Baylor for money—especially with Iowa no longer in the picture.”
“Carl, I appreciate all you’re saying. But I just can’t forgive you for lying to me about not having the human experimentation approval.”
“I didn’t. The day after Marci presented to you in the ER I pushed through the approval. Not before.”
Jessie eyed him suspiciously.
“You can provide me proof of that?”
“If you want it. Jessie, I understand you’re angry. People get angry with me all the time. It’s part of running a department and pushing it toward the top of the heap. But I don’t want the department to lose you. That’s what this promotion is all about. Now, what do you
Jessie shook her head slowly.
“Spare me, please,” she said.
“Jessie, I appreciate all you’ve done with ARTIE. But I also don’t think you appreciate some of the realities of financing a research-oriented neurosurgical department.”
“Carl, you placed that girl in danger for no reason.”
“If there was any trouble with ARTIE, I was set to open her up and go after her tumor that way. And don’t say the device was used for no reason. Look at these.”
Gilbride withdrew a large, stuffed manila envelope from his briefcase and passed it over. It contained dozens of congratulatory e-mails, phone messages, faxes, and even several telegrams. Patients from countries around the world were already contacting Gilbride, asking him to take a crack with ARTIE at their “inoperable” tumors.
“Please, I was hopeless until now,” one fax read. “I have nothing to lose. Please help me.”
“Congratulations,” Jessie said, hoping her tone reflected her lack of sincerity.
“Two of those faxes and one of those telegrams are from agencies that could or do help fund our research,” Gilbride said, reaching across the desk to separate them from the others. “Here.”
The telegram was from the medical director of Durbin Surgicals. Jessie knew that a good portion of the work on ARTIE had been done with their help through a grant that was in Gilbride’s name, but for which she had written the application.
Dear Carl. We at Durbin are proud that research done in part under one of our career development awards has made such an impressive impact. Congratulations to you, Dr. Copeland, and the rest of your staff. I suspect when you apply for a renewal you will find smooth sailing.
“And look. Look at this one. It’s from the executive director of the MacIntosh Foundation in Los Angeles. You’ve heard of them?”
“Of course.”
Dear Dr. Gilbride,
Congratulations on your successful use of intraoperative robotics in the case of Marci Sheprow. As you know, the MacIntosh Foundation is committed in part to the furtherance of medical science as it directly impacts the public. I know you have been anxiously awaiting our response to your recent grant application to our agency. We are impressed with what you have accomplished, and will be evaluating your research for one of our Class 1 awards, which, as you may know, has a minimum value of three million dollars. I will be contacting you directly should we require any further information, or should our grant awards committee reach a decision on your application.
Sincerely,
Eastman Tolliver
Executive Director
“Three million,” Jessie said, genuinely impressed.
“Just the beginning. Because of this case, we’re going to be right up there with the elite programs in the country. My guess is that by the time this week is over, we’ll be getting more referrals and doing more tumor cases than any other program around. We’re also going to have tremendous clout when it comes to competing with places like Stanford and Baylor for money—especially with Iowa no longer in the picture.”
“Carl, I appreciate all you’re saying. But I just can’t forgive you for lying to me about not having the human experimentation approval.”
“I didn’t. The day after Marci presented to you in the ER I pushed through the approval. Not before.”
Jessie eyed him suspiciously.
“You can provide me proof of that?”
“If you want it. Jessie, I understand you’re angry. People get angry with me all the time. It’s part of running a department and pushing it toward the top of the heap. But I don’t want the department to lose you. That’s what this promotion is all about. Now, what do you
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