Toxin by Robin Cook Page A

up. “All right,” he said. “I’ll try.”
    â€œBut don’t lose your temper,” Tracy admonished. “It might make everything worse.”
    â€œHow can it be worse?” Kim replied.
    Kim walked out of the waiting room on his way to the nurses’ desk. He’d gone only a few steps when the wailing of an ambulance siren reverberated through the main swinging doors to his left. A moment later a flashing red light was seen through the doors’ glass panels. The siren died off and soon the doors burst open. Several bloodied people—apparently auto-accident victims—were rolled in and whisked into the ER proper.
    Kim could not help but wonder if these new arrivals meant Becky would have to wait that much longer.
    Kim approached the nurses’ desk. Again he looked for Molly McFadden, but she was still out of sight. The people there were a clerk, who was on the phone transcribing laboratory values, and a solitary nurse doing paperwork while sipping coffee. Her name tag read: MONICA HOSKINS , ER Staff Nurse.
    Forcing himself to be civil, Kim got her attention by gently tapping the countertop.
    â€œGood evening,” he said when she looked up at him. “Perhaps you recognize me?”
    Monica narrowed her eyes slightly as she gazed at Kim.
    â€œNo, I don’t think I do,” she said. “Should I?”
    â€œI’m on the surgical attending staff,” Kim said. “But right now I’m here with my daughter, and we’ve been waiting for over an hour and a half. Could you tell me when she’ll be seen?”
    â€œIt’s been a busy night, especially with auto accidents,” Monica explained. “What’s the name?”
    â€œDr. Reggis,” Kim said. He squared his shoulders.
    â€œNo, the patient’s name,” Monica said.
    â€œRebecca Reggis,” Kim said.
    Monica picked up a stack of ER sign-in sheets. After wetting the tip of her index finger with her tongue she rapidly flipped through the papers.
    â€œOkay,” she remarked as she withdrew one of them. “Here it is.” She read the chief complaint and then raised her face to Kim. She arched her eyebrows.
    â€œDiarrhea, two days’ duration,” she commented. “Not exactly a four-plus emergency.”
    Kim lifted the stool-sample container to bring it into her line of sight. “She’s been passing a little bit of blood this afternoon,” Kim said.
    Monica leaned forward. “Doesn’t look like blood.”
    â€œIt did earlier,” Kim said. “And it has her mother upset.”
    â€œWell, we’ll get to her as soon as we can,” Monica said noncommittedly. “That’s about all I can say.” She replaced Becky’s sign-in sheet to its former location in the stack.
    â€œListen,” Kim said in a deliberately controlled voice. “As a member of the staff, I expect some consideration, and after waiting this long already, I want her to be seenshortly. I hope I’m making myself clear. She’s in considerable discomfort.”
    Monica treated Kim to a patently false smile. “As I said a moment ago, we’ll get to her as soon as we can. We have limited resources. If you’ve been here for an hour and a half, I’m sure you’ve seen the auto accidents that have come in, and now the police have alerted us a shooting victim is on his way.”
    No sooner had these last words escaped from Monica’s lips than the familiar sound of an arriving ambulance could be heard.
    â€œIn fact, I’d wager that’s them now,” Monica said as she got to her feet. She moved over to an intercom and pressed a button. Talking to someone in one of the trauma rooms she informed them to get ready. Then she herself disappeared back into the depths of the ER.
    With little satisfaction for his latest efforts, Kim headed back to the waiting room. As he passed by the main entrance doors, a team of