Toxin by Robin Cook

nurses’ desk. For the moment the mammoth Molly McFadden was nowhere to be seen.
    The interior of the ER was a series of large rooms divided into separate cubicles by curtains that hung fromoverhead tracks. In addition, there were individual trauma rooms replete with state-of-the-art equipment. There were also a handful of examination rooms used primarily for psychiatric cases.
    Like the outer waiting area, the ER proper was packed and chaotic. Every trauma room was occupied and staff physicians, residents, nurses, and orderlies swirled between them in continuous motion.
    As he walked, Kim searched for someone he recognized. Unfortunately he didn’t see anyone he knew. He stopped an orderly.
    â€œExcuse me,” Kim said. “I need a stool-sample container ASAP.”
    The orderly gave Kim a rapid once-over with his eyes. “Who are you?”
    â€œDr. Reggis,” Kim said.
    â€œYou got an ID?”
    Kim produced his hospital identification card.
    â€œOkay,” the orderly said. “I’ll be right back.”
    Kim watched the man disappear through an unmarked door that apparently led to a storeroom.
    â€œComing through,” a voice called.
    Kim turned around in time to see a portable X-ray unit bearing down on him. He stepped to the side as the heavy machine was trundled past by an X-ray technician. A moment later the orderly reappeared. He handed Kim two clear plastic bags with plastic containers inside.
    â€œThanks,” Kim said.
    â€œDon’t mention it,” the orderly said.
    Kim hurried back the way he’d come. Tracy and Becky were still in line although they had moved up a few feet. Becky had her eyes shut tight. Tears streaked her face.
    Kim handed one of the plastic bags to Tracy. “Cramps?” he questioned.
    â€œOf course, you lunkhead,” Tracy said. Tracy grabbed Becky’s hand and led her back to the restroom.
    Kim held their place in line as it advanced by one more patient. Now there were two check-in clerks. Apparently the other had been off on break.
    Â 
    B y nine-fifteen the ER waiting room was filled to overflowing. All the molded-plastic chairs were occupied. The rest of the people were leaning up against the walls or sprawled on the floor. There was little conversation. In one corner, a television hung suspended from the ceiling. It was tuned to CNN. A number of unhappy infants drowned out the newscaster. Outside it had started to rain; the smell of wet wool filled the air.
    Kim, Tracy, and Becky had eventually found seats together and had not moved, except for Becky, who’d made several more trips to the restroom. Kim was holding the stool-sample container. Although there had been some spots of bright red blood originally, now the contents appeared a uniform light brown. Becky was miserable and mortified. Tracy was exasperated. Kim was still seething.
    â€œI don’t believe this,” Kim said suddenly. “I truly don’t believe this. Every second I think we’ll be called, but it doesn’t happen.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve been here an hour and a half.”
    â€œWelcome to the real world,” Tracy said.
    â€œThis is what Kelly Anderson should have done her merger story about,” Kim said. “This is ridiculous. AmeriCare closed the ER at the Samaritan to cut costs and make everyone come here. It’s all just to maximize profits.”
    â€œAnd maximize inconvenience,” Tracy added.
    â€œIt’s true,” Kim agreed. “AmeriCare definitely wants to discourage emergency-room usage.”
    â€œI can’t think of a better way,” Tracy said.
    â€œI can’t believe that not one of the staff people has recognized me,” Kim growled. “It’s incredible. Hell, I’m probably the best-known cardiac surgeon in the department.”
    â€œIsn’t there something you can do?” Tracy pleaded. “Becky’s miserable.”
    Kim stood