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Chapter Two: Talking Yourself into Trouble

The following morning broke fresh and cold. Elizabeth hurried past newsstands plastered with photos of yesterday's bombings and caught up with Peter. He took her hand in his which was a touching gesture from a man who was so shy about showing their relationship at work. She squeezed his hand warmly.

'Oh Peter. I've made such a mistake.' She sighed and looked up at him. 'You can tell me what to do, can't you? I lost my temper at Dr Romano and now I have…quite a lot of ground to make up.' It was comforting to walk with him, feeling his strong arm next to hers.

He shrugged. 'Don't worry about what he says, Elizabeth. The guy's a jerk with short dog syndrome. He's just pushing you around. You know it's how he gets his kicks. Ignore him.'

She had to smile at short dog syndrome but shook her head. 'I don't think that's an answer this time. I really do need to make things better. Any ideas?'

They were almost at the foot of County by now. The jagged debris in ambulance bay, sealed off by police tape, was attracting a lot of attention. Elizabeth hadn't seen it in daylight, and it was a terrifying sight. Twenty feet further along and it would have been the ER itself. The ambulance bay was unrecognizable. County staff and passers-by alike were gathering to stare and chatter. The police were checking ID to get past the lines. God knew where the ambulances were going to go. It was going to be chaos.

Peter let go of her hand to dig out his staff ID. 'Look, Elizabeth, you know Romano better than most of us, but if you can't think of anything, why don't you talk to Dr Anspaugh? He probably hired him.' He flashed his badge at the cop and ducked under the tape.

She turned the idea over in her mind as she followed suit. 'Yes. Actually, that sounds a good idea. Thank you, Peter! I'll see if I can catch him early.' She waved at him and ran ahead.

It wasn't easy to track down their overworked chief of staff, but eventually Elizabeth ran him to earth in the OR.

'Dr Anspaugh,' she knocked on his door. 'Do you have a have a minute? I'd really appreciate your advice.'

'Good morning, Dr Corday.' He looked tired, but not unwelcoming. 'I hope I always have a minute for fellow surgeons. What can I do for you?'

She realized that he must have been in meetings already and she felt guilty for bringing him another problem. 'I'm afraid I have a confession,' she began. She saw the worry in his eyes and hastened to explain. 'It's nothing serious, I hope, but I'm afraid I…spoke rather impolitely to Dr Romano last night. Of course, I'll apologize again this morning, but I'm afraid we've had a few…lapses in communication over the last few months and I really wanted to ask your advice on how I can, well, get along with him a little better.'

'Ah.' He took off his glasses and began to polish them. 'Rocket.'

She was relieved by his understanding expression.

'Well, as far as last night goes, we all worked far longer than we should and I'm sure it was a strain on everyone. Tempers will occasionally fray under pressure. I'm sure you'll find a way to apologize.' He waved away her gratitude and sighed. 'I know that Dr Romano isn't the easiest person to work with. He's what you might call a pure scientist. Completely dispassionate; hasn't got an ounce of tact or sensitivity. I'm aware he can be outspoken and challenging to work with.' He gave her a wry look. 'Surgeons do tend to think we know best, don't we? Against all that, he's a brilliant surgeon, utterly dedicated, has privileges at every hospital in the city and regularly gets called for consults. You must be aware that he's one of the leaders in the cardiothoracic field and a pioneer for new types of surgery.' He smiled. 'Although if he ever tells you that's why he's called Rocket, you can ignore that. I happen to know the real story is far more interesting.'

He replaced his glasses. 'Forgive me, Dr Corday. I don't usually speak so openly of the staff. There are reasons, however, why I want to make sure the more junior staff are comfortable working with residents and attendings. You said there were a few lapses in communication.' He paused for a moment and studied her. 'I'd like to assure that Dr Romano always speaks highly of your skills.'

Elizabeth flushed slightly and looked down at the carpet.

Anspaugh pressed on. 'Do you feel uncomfortable or undervalued? I hope you'll feel able to tell me in confidence if you do.'

She shook her head. 'No…erm…no. I couldn't say that. She returned to safer ground. 'I think that it's as you said, a matter of sensitivity. You see, last night, I had just lost a patient who was important to me. A patient in whom I'd invested a great deal of time. She explained their dispute over Alison Beaumont in the ER. To her own ears, it sounded reasonable. Alison was a fighter; they had only given her 10cc of epi and there were atonal heartbeats detected. Her refusal to call time of death had won Alison a little longer. Although Alison had slipped away, her friends and family had been able to see her a final time. As she talked Dr Anspaugh through the resuscitation, however, she realized his expression was alarmingly stern.

'You overrode the instructions of an attending to call time of death?'

'Yes, but-'

'-but nothing, Dr Corday!' He rubbed his forehead as if warding off a headache. 'Tell me why the attending surgeon is present in operations.'

'Because of his -or her- experience,' she answered reluctantly. She felt on thin ice. Dr Anspaugh had been angry when she operated without an attending a few months before. 'Look, I know I was in the wrong there,' she said. She didn't believe she was actually wrong, but in the wrong was safe to say. 'I'm afraid I let my connection to the patient get the better of me. I do want to learn better in future.'

He nodded. 'Believe me, I understand the impulse. It's something we all feel as doctors. The instinct to save a life at all costs.' He glanced at the photo of his children on the desk for a moment and stared up and over her shoulder. 'You know it's ultimately a kindness not to put a patient through unnecessary or futile treatment.' His voice was tight. 'It can take great strength of character to practice that particular kind of honesty.' He sighed deeply. 'Well, I'll let this go with a warning, Dr Corday, but I don't wish to hear of that happening again. Is that understood?'

'Yes, absolutely.' She searched for a graceful way to wrap up the conversation and escape. 'I'd, erhm…better go and check on my patients. Thank you for your time, Dr Anspaugh.'

He nodded. 'Of course, of course. Oh, before you go, Dr Corday, tell me how the hemo-aid study is going. I haven't had a chance to ask him.' He glanced out of the window. 'I could use some good news this morning.'

'Ah, I'm not involved with the surgical study, I'm afraid,' she answered. 'You'll have to ask Dr Romano.'

'Really?' He frowned. 'That's odd. I know Dr Romano wanted to get you involved for the experience. It brings in good publicity for the department and it's a great opportunity to get your name known.'

'Oh, um, yes, he did invite me, but I'm afraid I was involved with another study in the OR at the time.' She glanced at the clock rather theatrically. 'Oh, gosh, I've taken up far too much of your time already. I'll just….,' she gestured to the door.

'I wasn't aware of a study in the OR.' He threw her a piercing look. 'Can you expand on this? Please sit down, Dr Corday.'

The questions were relentless. Sitting reluctantly opposite him, aware she was late for the start of her shift, reminded her of getting into trouble at school. She felt as if the Head had called her into the office and kept her past the end of break because of the seriousness of her fault. It wasn't in her nature to lie, but the onslaught of questions left her squirming inside. What was the study in the OR? Oh, it was another hemo-aid study. Where had she obtained the blood? Had she studied the guidelines of the hemo-blood use from the manufacturer? Was she aware that the terms of the study restricted the hemo-blood to surgical use only? How was she hoping to publish the results given the restrictions? Who was the ER faculty advisor? Was Dr Greene aware of the terms of the surgical study? How long had this been going on for? At what stage had she informed Dr Romano about this? Really? And what actions did he take? At the end of the questions, she scarcely dared to look him in the eye.

He sat back and drew in a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling. At last, he looked back down at her, his expression icy. 'It's clear to me, Dr Corday, that you obtained the materials for your study and consent from Dr Greene in an underhand manner. The violation of terms could have compromised the surgical study, the funding from the manufacturers and the hospital's reputation.' He tapped a finger on his desk to drive the point home. 'I am very badly disappointed in you.' He held up a hand, forestalling her move to speak. 'No, don't say anything. I excused your faults earlier, but now I see a pattern of dangerous disregard for regulations. Furthermore, I believe you've been badly mismanaged and even encouraged in this behaviour.'

He stood and walked to the door, looked out to the corridor. 'Jacy! Would you please find Dr Romano and tell him I would like to see him in this office immediately?' He closed the door but kept a hand on it. 'I'll speak to you again later, Dr Corday. I'll say it again; I expected far better of you.' He held the door open for her to leave.

As she exited, head held low, she passed Romano. He threw her an interrogative look at her as he entered the office. Dr Anspaugh closed the door between them, and she left to change for her shift.

An hour later, Romano was having a terrible morning. He didn't have a good answer to Anspaugh's fury, and it left him seething with undirected rage. He threw down the notes he was supposed to be reading and paced the lounge. Elizabeth Corday was the source of most of these problems and he held her directly responsible for his headache. As she entered the lounge in search of coffee, he pounced.

'What the hell, Elizabeth?' He slammed the door shut behind her. She jumped and spilled the coffee she was pouring.

'Dr Romano, I'm terribly sorry…' she stammered. She ducked her head, industriously wiping up the coffee.

'Oh yeah, clean that up, 'cos that's what you could end up doing for a living.'

'What?' Her hand froze, leaving the coffee spilled over the table.

'Are you deaf? You only hear what you want to hear? You're out of a job here and good luck getting one back in England.'

'I'm what?' She wasn't getting it. 'What did Dr Anspaugh say?'

'He's pulling your damn visa funding!'

'No, that can't be right.'

He thew his hands in the air in frustration. 'Oh sure, I forgot. You're irreplaceable! I don't know how we managed before you got here.'

She was already moving to the door. 'I'll go and talk to him.'

'I think you've done enough damage already,' he warned her. It was ridiculous, unthinkable. 'What in God's name possessed you to tell Anspaugh you took the hemo-blood?! This is workplace 101: don't tell the boss you're stealing.' He glared at her. 'You're not in daddy's hospital now.'

'My father has never given me unfair advantages.' That was Elizabeth suddenly icily furious. Her temper rivalled his. 'You know that. That's why I was stuck getting all the boring surgeries-' she broke off.

'But he'll never put you out of a job, will he? Well, Anspaugh can and has. And what's worse, you tried to take my career down with yours.'

'Take your career down?' She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. 'I couldn't do that. I didn'tdo that. I wouldn't -'

'Guess how he feels about the fact I didn't report your violations,' he interrupted. 'Any wild guesses? No? Well, let me tell you, Lizzie -.'

'There's no need.' She ran a hand through her hair leaving it wilder than usual. 'Look, I'm really sorry you got into trouble for this. I didn't mean this at all. I can tell Dr Anspaugh how grateful I am.'

'Oh, you're grateful? I can't say I noticed that.' The lounge door opened and without looking around, he snarled 'Get out!'

'I will not get out!' Dr Anspaugh shut the door behind him and advanced into the room. He took in the scene. 'This was utterly unprofessional and unnecessary,' he told Romano in tones of barely restrained anger. He turned to face Elizabeth and addressed her more moderately. 'I presume Dr Romano has just filled you in on the gist of our conversation.'

She nodded silently.

'I would have broken this to you more professionally in private, Dr Corday, but since the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, and Dr Romano was your visa sponsor, allow me to confirm it for you now. I think it best your visa sponsorship ends this year. For the remainder of your time here, I will be your manager.' He looked at the pair of them, icily. 'And finally, I'm rearranging your schedules so you will not do scheduled surgeries together. I don't think this particular partnership has been beneficial to the department.' He heaved a sigh. 'Dr Corday, if you'll come with me, please? We have your employee paperwork to go over together.'

Romano felt as if he'd been sucker punched. No more surgeries together. He glanced over at Elizabeth who had gone white. It was so tempting to lash out and kick something. He forced himself to turn away and gather up his notes. Elizabeth followed Anspaugh out of the room wordlessly but at the door, she turned to glance back at him. Romano thought he could read apology and pleading mixed in that glance. He wanted to charge out there, catch Elizabeth and make her realize just how much he had done for her. This isn't my fault, Lizzie. I did everything I could to keep you here. He thought that he should feel some satisfaction that Elizabeth, who clearly disliked him, had talked herself out of a job, but all he could feel was regret.

Dr Anspaugh was true to his word. Their surgeries were rearranged so they wouldn't work together. Romano studied the board. Anspaugh seemed to have it in for Elizabeth. She was stuck on all the boring ones. She could have done any of them solo years ago. He had his usual interesting set, but the prospect of hours of surgery without Elizabeth on the other side of the patient was frankly dull. In need of a competent resident, he corralled Benton into replacing her on most of them. Benton was no fun to talk to, but he had good hands.

His shoulder still throbbed as he scrubbed in for the next surgery. The only good spot was that all four of his patients from last night were still living. The grandmother was dicey but holding her own in the ICU. The mom was resting under observation and a grateful dad had turned up to shuttle between the two kids. He made a mental note to visit them again in the afternoon.

Dr Anspaugh entered the room with Lizzie in tow and his anger flared again at the sight. Was he going to drag her around everywhere like a badly behaved kid not trusted to let go of dad's hand? Romano dropped his gaze; focused on scrubbing under his nails. He looked up surreptitiously, met Elizabeth's eyes in the same furtive glance and looked down again.

Anspaugh cleared his throat. 'Dr Romano? I've got requests from journalists overflowing my inbox. I'm giving one to you. You'll take it, won't you?'

He figured he needed to win back some ground after Anspaugh's words earlier. 'Yes, sir.'

'It's from the Trib, a piece about the doctor who rescued the family under the wreckage. She wants to do a friendly piece on the man behind the surgical mask, as she says. Background, what brought you to Chicago, hobbies, that sort of thing….'

'Wait, what?'

'I want nice, family-friendly answers, preferably talking about teamwork and with a stress on the fact this was hospital grounds. He gave Romano a narrow look. 'What I mean is no flirting, no sarcasm, no criticism of the hospital and definitely no indication there was any danger involved last night,' he said bluntly. 'Can you do that?'

Romano considered it. He loathed giving away information about his private life at work. It went against deeply ingrained habits. On the other hand, it was a way to claw back some credit with Anspaugh which had taken a hell of a beating yesterday and today. He decided he could brush off any personal questions with evasions. 'You can trust me. Not my first rodeo.'

'That's what I want to hear. 11am tomorrow; you can arrange your surgeries around it.' Anspaugh bent over his own scrubbing. 'Oh, and Robert? If you hurt your shoulder last night, I don't want to find out about it in the Trib. Understand?'

Damn it. Apparently, it wasn't as well-hidden as he thought. 'Can't read about something which didn't happen,' he answered lightly. His shoulder ached as if to protest the lie.