1 Chapter Five
'Ouch!' Jesse Travis winced slapping a hand against the back of his neck 'Something just bit me.'
'Let me take a look.' Stepping away from the patient he was attending to, Mark Sloan moved behind Jesse, characteristically pushing his glasses down his nose for a clearer view. 'You know, it looks a little red, but I can't see any bite mark Jess' he replied thoughtfully.
'I swear I just felt something' Jesse persisted stubbornly. Pulling a face he ran a finger around the inside collar of his white coat, attempting to locate the source of his pain.
'I can't think what you could have been bitten by in here' Mark pondered. Mildly curious he examined the possibilities in his mind 'Its not really the season for mosquitoes' he thought out loud, 'but then I suppose with this unusually hot weather we're having ….'
'Ahem!'
The overly obvious throat clearing - the tone of which indicated annoyance in the extreme cut Mark's musings prematurely short. He turned apologetically back to his patient, a rather large middle aged woman, who sported a sallow complexion and a seemingly permanent scowl.
'So, Mrs O'Brien' he began warmly, seeking to appease her obvious displeasure 'How are you fee ….'
'Dr. Sloan' she cut across him irritably 'I thought in a hospital the doctors treat the patients, not each other'.
'You know Mrs O'Brien you're absolutely right' Mark replied smiling winningly at her, whilst treating Jesse to a ghost of a wink.
Elsa O'Brien was scheduled for a gall bladder operation later in the week. Community General's nursing staff, who had to deal with the woman on a daily basis, were counting the hours until she was no longer in their care. Mark had heard from Susan Hilliard, via Jesse, that ever since she'd arrived, Elsa had been making the nurses' lives a misery. Having met her himself, Mark could well believe it.
Professionally he cared a great deal about his patients and personally he tried to see the best in everyone, but even Mark had to agree that Mrs O'Brien could be down right unpleasant. However, he wasn't without sympathy for the woman. With an insight engendered from years of experience, he appreciated that some people responded aggressively when they were anxious and in pain.
But sympathetic or not, the fact remained that Mrs O'Brien was undoubtedly a difficult patient. Mark knew she would require only the slightest provocation to lodge unjust complaints about individual staff or indeed the hospital as a whole. As such she had to be handled with care. As Chief of Internal Medicine he felt duty bound to set a good example to his staff of how to deal effectively with 'awkward customers'.
He smiled to himself, amused at the 'shop keeper' analogy that had sprung to mind. All too quickly his humour evaporated. It was a sad fact that in recent years hospitals had become akin to retailers, competing aggressively for the favours of their clientele. It was no longer enough to be a good doctor; you now had to be skilled at public relations, promotions and business management. He sighed to himself, remembering how different it used to be. Back when he was Jesse's age there had been time to get to know the patients, time to care. These days he was lucky if got to talk to his patients about anything beyond the rudiments of their immediate physical symptoms. And that wasn't the only change. With the progression of modern technology had come impossible ethical decisions, which now beset his working life. More and more often, he was forced to become embroiled in battles with the board of governors, simply to ensure that in doing his job, he could still sleep at night and still look at himself in the mirror each morning.
He sighed, times had changed. The world was a dangerous place and there were now numerous ways for human beings to inflict pain and suffering upon each other. For a man in his position, it would be easy to become jaded, but pessimism was not his natural state. Mark had never been one to wallow in self-pity. Shaking off his unusually gloomy thoughts, he paused for a moment instead to consider his blessings. By all accounts he had much to be grateful for – not only a marvellous son, with whom he shared a unique and special bond, but friends that he loved and was able to consider family. In addition he was blessed with good health and a mind that had remained remarkably sharp, despite his advancing years – both gifts allowed him to continue practising medicine, a profession he loved. Feeling foolish, he smiled at his earlier retreat down memory lane – reminiscing back to the 'good old days' was a sure sign of old age! Mark knew that Steve, had he been privy to his father's self-indulgent nostalgia, would have rolled his eyes in affectionate amusement.
Taking a deep breath he turned back to the problem at hand – Mrs O'Brien. Enjoying a challenge he determined to win her over. Perceptively sizing her up in an instant, his opening gambit was on his lips when his right ear erupted with a sharp and stinging pain.
'Hey!' he cried out in surprise putting up a hand to massage the smarting lobe.
'You too huh?' Jesse confirmed, nodding his head sagely. 'I'm telling you, there's some killer mosquito on the loose here Mark'.
Warming to his subject the young doctor continued with the confidence of one on intimate terms with the rather more eccentric sites available on the World Wide Web. 'Must be something to do with El Nino' he declared knowledgeably. Hardly drawing a breath he continued excitedly 'You know everybody says that the climate is getting more and more unpredictable - with this heat it could be some freak infestation of killer bugs'. He looked at Mark earnestly 'There was this case in Ohio last year where giant frogs were found in the sewer systems, and in Eastern Europe there's been unusually frequent incidences of locusts migrating in vast swarms – locusts aren't even indigenous to Eastern Europe! I also heard that because of the Ozone layer and the increasing numbers of people now living in California ….'
'Jesse!' Mark interrupted firmly, determined to stem the flow whilst he could still get a word in edge ways. Jesse's overactive imagination was in the main, Mark knew, a combination of the young doctor's fondness for the internet and his avid consumption of late night trash TV. On many occasions in homicide cases, Jesse's enviable repertoire of bizarre trivia had proved strangely insightful, sparking parallels for Mark that had enabled his eventual solution. Jesse was however, Mark thought fondly, rather apt to overly indulge in the realms of the fantastic. Thus he sometimes missed the more ordinary and usually correct explanation - as was the case today.
Holding a finger to his lips to signal Jesse to be quiet, Mark whispered 'I don't think a mosquito is the culprit here'.
Once he was finally silent, Jesse heard what had been audible to Mark a few moments earlier. A sound that could only be a child's suppressed laughter was emanating from the closed curtain which currently concealed the bed behind them. Signalling Jesse to move around to the other side of the curtain, Mark began talking slowly 'I think you could be right Jess' he said, clearly enunciating each and every word for the benefit of their young intruder 'that certainly felt like one big bug.'
Taking hold of the curtain and motioning Jesse to do the same, Mark spoke more loudly 'But you know' he continued 'I think if we look carefully we'll find that the answer is a little more mundane.' On Mark's cue both doctors pulled on the curtains, successfully startling the small, tousled- headed boy who had been hiding behind them.
'Jonathan!' Jesse admonished in surprise 'You know you're not supposed to be hanging out on the wards by yourself. Where's your Mom?'
'She's taken my sister to the bathroom' the boy replied sulkily. Wiping at his nose with the grubby sleeve of his sweat-shirt he looked defiantly at the two doctors before proclaiming 'I'm bored, this place really sucks'.
'Well you know the hospital can actually be pretty exciting if you know the right places to go' Mark replied smiling kindly at him. He knew the seven- year old and his family well. Jonathan's older brother was currently resident in the children's burn unit, having gotten into trouble trying to set fire to an old tyre in the family's backyard. The Marsdens were regular visitors in the ER. Mrs. Marsden was a lovely woman, but she found her two young boys a handful. And who wouldn't Mark smiled to himself, remembering some of the scrapes Steve had gotten himself into at that age.
'How's about we go and get some candy from the machine round the corner' Mark suggested 'And you can show me that fine piece of weaponry you were just firing at us. Jesse can send your Mom up to us when she gets back from the bathroom'.
'It's my pea shooter' Jonathan explained proudly, his face instantly lighting up. 'My uncle made it for me'. Eyes shining he held up the crudely fashioned, wooden weapon for Mark's inspection.
'Well that is a beauty' Mark whistled admiringly 'You know, I haven't seen one of these since my son was about your age'.
'It fires the peas really fast' Jonathan boasted proudly 'They really sting when they hit you!'
'We know!' Jesse complained rubbing his neck.
'You know these types of weapons originated in the Middle East.' Mark explained, as a fascinated Jonathan took his hand and the pair began walking slowly out of the ward 'The ancients used them to attack their enemies, but usually they fired small darts instead of peas.'
Jesse could still hear Mark's voice as the two disappeared round the corner. Smiling at the seemingly unlikely combination of the elderly, distinguished looking, Chief of Medicine and the small, tattered child, Jesse had to admit that what had just taken place was not typical of many of his superiors. It was however typical of Mark Sloan. Jesse knew that there were some who considered Mark far too eccentric for a Chief of Staff. But to Jesse, Mark was Mark, and as far as he was concerned there wasn't a better doctor or a better friend. He couldn't quite quantify how or when his friendship with Mark had really begun, nor could he reason what had prompted Mark to accept him so unconditionally into his home and into his life. What he did know was that he would be eternally grateful. As a child, Jesse had pretty much grown up without a father. As an adult, he had in Mark the father he had always craved.
Thinking about Mark and the young Jonathan, Jesse had no doubt that the pair would now be happily munching candy bars and taking turns firing the pea shooter at unsuspecting staff. He smiled; Mark really did have a way with people – especially kids. It was almost as if he cast some sort of spell over them. He grinned to himself, where kids were concerned Mark was a regular Pied Piper. 'Yeah' Jesse thought pleased with the description 'Mark Sloan – the Pied Piper of Malibu'. Still amused by the image he had created he turned back to his patient 'So Mrs O'Brien' he began cheerfully 'How are we feeling today?'
'I'm feeling lousy' she snapped bad temperedly 'I've no idea how you're feeling'.
Taking a deep breath Jesse pasted a winning smile on his face and picked up the chart at the bottom of the bed 'I love my job' he stated firmly.
'Ouch!' Jesse Travis winced slapping a hand against the back of his neck 'Something just bit me.'
'Let me take a look.' Stepping away from the patient he was attending to, Mark Sloan moved behind Jesse, characteristically pushing his glasses down his nose for a clearer view. 'You know, it looks a little red, but I can't see any bite mark Jess' he replied thoughtfully.
'I swear I just felt something' Jesse persisted stubbornly. Pulling a face he ran a finger around the inside collar of his white coat, attempting to locate the source of his pain.
'I can't think what you could have been bitten by in here' Mark pondered. Mildly curious he examined the possibilities in his mind 'Its not really the season for mosquitoes' he thought out loud, 'but then I suppose with this unusually hot weather we're having ….'
'Ahem!'
The overly obvious throat clearing - the tone of which indicated annoyance in the extreme cut Mark's musings prematurely short. He turned apologetically back to his patient, a rather large middle aged woman, who sported a sallow complexion and a seemingly permanent scowl.
'So, Mrs O'Brien' he began warmly, seeking to appease her obvious displeasure 'How are you fee ….'
'Dr. Sloan' she cut across him irritably 'I thought in a hospital the doctors treat the patients, not each other'.
'You know Mrs O'Brien you're absolutely right' Mark replied smiling winningly at her, whilst treating Jesse to a ghost of a wink.
Elsa O'Brien was scheduled for a gall bladder operation later in the week. Community General's nursing staff, who had to deal with the woman on a daily basis, were counting the hours until she was no longer in their care. Mark had heard from Susan Hilliard, via Jesse, that ever since she'd arrived, Elsa had been making the nurses' lives a misery. Having met her himself, Mark could well believe it.
Professionally he cared a great deal about his patients and personally he tried to see the best in everyone, but even Mark had to agree that Mrs O'Brien could be down right unpleasant. However, he wasn't without sympathy for the woman. With an insight engendered from years of experience, he appreciated that some people responded aggressively when they were anxious and in pain.
But sympathetic or not, the fact remained that Mrs O'Brien was undoubtedly a difficult patient. Mark knew she would require only the slightest provocation to lodge unjust complaints about individual staff or indeed the hospital as a whole. As such she had to be handled with care. As Chief of Internal Medicine he felt duty bound to set a good example to his staff of how to deal effectively with 'awkward customers'.
He smiled to himself, amused at the 'shop keeper' analogy that had sprung to mind. All too quickly his humour evaporated. It was a sad fact that in recent years hospitals had become akin to retailers, competing aggressively for the favours of their clientele. It was no longer enough to be a good doctor; you now had to be skilled at public relations, promotions and business management. He sighed to himself, remembering how different it used to be. Back when he was Jesse's age there had been time to get to know the patients, time to care. These days he was lucky if got to talk to his patients about anything beyond the rudiments of their immediate physical symptoms. And that wasn't the only change. With the progression of modern technology had come impossible ethical decisions, which now beset his working life. More and more often, he was forced to become embroiled in battles with the board of governors, simply to ensure that in doing his job, he could still sleep at night and still look at himself in the mirror each morning.
He sighed, times had changed. The world was a dangerous place and there were now numerous ways for human beings to inflict pain and suffering upon each other. For a man in his position, it would be easy to become jaded, but pessimism was not his natural state. Mark had never been one to wallow in self-pity. Shaking off his unusually gloomy thoughts, he paused for a moment instead to consider his blessings. By all accounts he had much to be grateful for – not only a marvellous son, with whom he shared a unique and special bond, but friends that he loved and was able to consider family. In addition he was blessed with good health and a mind that had remained remarkably sharp, despite his advancing years – both gifts allowed him to continue practising medicine, a profession he loved. Feeling foolish, he smiled at his earlier retreat down memory lane – reminiscing back to the 'good old days' was a sure sign of old age! Mark knew that Steve, had he been privy to his father's self-indulgent nostalgia, would have rolled his eyes in affectionate amusement.
Taking a deep breath he turned back to the problem at hand – Mrs O'Brien. Enjoying a challenge he determined to win her over. Perceptively sizing her up in an instant, his opening gambit was on his lips when his right ear erupted with a sharp and stinging pain.
'Hey!' he cried out in surprise putting up a hand to massage the smarting lobe.
'You too huh?' Jesse confirmed, nodding his head sagely. 'I'm telling you, there's some killer mosquito on the loose here Mark'.
Warming to his subject the young doctor continued with the confidence of one on intimate terms with the rather more eccentric sites available on the World Wide Web. 'Must be something to do with El Nino' he declared knowledgeably. Hardly drawing a breath he continued excitedly 'You know everybody says that the climate is getting more and more unpredictable - with this heat it could be some freak infestation of killer bugs'. He looked at Mark earnestly 'There was this case in Ohio last year where giant frogs were found in the sewer systems, and in Eastern Europe there's been unusually frequent incidences of locusts migrating in vast swarms – locusts aren't even indigenous to Eastern Europe! I also heard that because of the Ozone layer and the increasing numbers of people now living in California ….'
'Jesse!' Mark interrupted firmly, determined to stem the flow whilst he could still get a word in edge ways. Jesse's overactive imagination was in the main, Mark knew, a combination of the young doctor's fondness for the internet and his avid consumption of late night trash TV. On many occasions in homicide cases, Jesse's enviable repertoire of bizarre trivia had proved strangely insightful, sparking parallels for Mark that had enabled his eventual solution. Jesse was however, Mark thought fondly, rather apt to overly indulge in the realms of the fantastic. Thus he sometimes missed the more ordinary and usually correct explanation - as was the case today.
Holding a finger to his lips to signal Jesse to be quiet, Mark whispered 'I don't think a mosquito is the culprit here'.
Once he was finally silent, Jesse heard what had been audible to Mark a few moments earlier. A sound that could only be a child's suppressed laughter was emanating from the closed curtain which currently concealed the bed behind them. Signalling Jesse to move around to the other side of the curtain, Mark began talking slowly 'I think you could be right Jess' he said, clearly enunciating each and every word for the benefit of their young intruder 'that certainly felt like one big bug.'
Taking hold of the curtain and motioning Jesse to do the same, Mark spoke more loudly 'But you know' he continued 'I think if we look carefully we'll find that the answer is a little more mundane.' On Mark's cue both doctors pulled on the curtains, successfully startling the small, tousled- headed boy who had been hiding behind them.
'Jonathan!' Jesse admonished in surprise 'You know you're not supposed to be hanging out on the wards by yourself. Where's your Mom?'
'She's taken my sister to the bathroom' the boy replied sulkily. Wiping at his nose with the grubby sleeve of his sweat-shirt he looked defiantly at the two doctors before proclaiming 'I'm bored, this place really sucks'.
'Well you know the hospital can actually be pretty exciting if you know the right places to go' Mark replied smiling kindly at him. He knew the seven- year old and his family well. Jonathan's older brother was currently resident in the children's burn unit, having gotten into trouble trying to set fire to an old tyre in the family's backyard. The Marsdens were regular visitors in the ER. Mrs. Marsden was a lovely woman, but she found her two young boys a handful. And who wouldn't Mark smiled to himself, remembering some of the scrapes Steve had gotten himself into at that age.
'How's about we go and get some candy from the machine round the corner' Mark suggested 'And you can show me that fine piece of weaponry you were just firing at us. Jesse can send your Mom up to us when she gets back from the bathroom'.
'It's my pea shooter' Jonathan explained proudly, his face instantly lighting up. 'My uncle made it for me'. Eyes shining he held up the crudely fashioned, wooden weapon for Mark's inspection.
'Well that is a beauty' Mark whistled admiringly 'You know, I haven't seen one of these since my son was about your age'.
'It fires the peas really fast' Jonathan boasted proudly 'They really sting when they hit you!'
'We know!' Jesse complained rubbing his neck.
'You know these types of weapons originated in the Middle East.' Mark explained, as a fascinated Jonathan took his hand and the pair began walking slowly out of the ward 'The ancients used them to attack their enemies, but usually they fired small darts instead of peas.'
Jesse could still hear Mark's voice as the two disappeared round the corner. Smiling at the seemingly unlikely combination of the elderly, distinguished looking, Chief of Medicine and the small, tattered child, Jesse had to admit that what had just taken place was not typical of many of his superiors. It was however typical of Mark Sloan. Jesse knew that there were some who considered Mark far too eccentric for a Chief of Staff. But to Jesse, Mark was Mark, and as far as he was concerned there wasn't a better doctor or a better friend. He couldn't quite quantify how or when his friendship with Mark had really begun, nor could he reason what had prompted Mark to accept him so unconditionally into his home and into his life. What he did know was that he would be eternally grateful. As a child, Jesse had pretty much grown up without a father. As an adult, he had in Mark the father he had always craved.
Thinking about Mark and the young Jonathan, Jesse had no doubt that the pair would now be happily munching candy bars and taking turns firing the pea shooter at unsuspecting staff. He smiled; Mark really did have a way with people – especially kids. It was almost as if he cast some sort of spell over them. He grinned to himself, where kids were concerned Mark was a regular Pied Piper. 'Yeah' Jesse thought pleased with the description 'Mark Sloan – the Pied Piper of Malibu'. Still amused by the image he had created he turned back to his patient 'So Mrs O'Brien' he began cheerfully 'How are we feeling today?'
'I'm feeling lousy' she snapped bad temperedly 'I've no idea how you're feeling'.
Taking a deep breath Jesse pasted a winning smile on his face and picked up the chart at the bottom of the bed 'I love my job' he stated firmly.