(no subject)
Claude shrugged resignedly as he listened to Fran, Mikey, and Nina bickering, up until the time when Mikey stopped to take a phone call while Nina excused herself to go to the restroom. ‘Well at least we all know how to pull together when push comes to shove,’ he thought as he and Fran rounded the corner leading to the Department of Surgery. He froze on hearing the gruff voice of Dr. Wolfman in convivial conversation with another masculine but decidedly silkier voice.
“I am sure that your company’s offer of a donation will be very well received by the directors. We are after all, a public hospital---and a very underfunded one at that,” Dr. Wolfman said. “This is a surprise; not that I’m complaining. I never thought though that updating a hospital’s equipment was something that the Pathways firm would take an interest in.”
“We are after all, a trouble-shooting firm. It is about time we did our work right where it is needed the most,” the stranger replied with a winsome grin.
‘No use trying to mosey past,’ Claude thought as he and Fran got nearer to the door. “Good afternoon,” he and Fran said by way of greeting. He noticed that Dr. Wolfman had put on a clean white coat over surgical scrubs, and looked as if he had just come from shaving, if his ruddy face was any indicator. The russet-haired man he was talking to was deliberately dressed for business in an expensive gray suit and a dark blue tie.
“Ah, there you are, Doctor Ramirez. I was just about to ask someone to search for you,” Dr. Wolfman said, reaching out to grab Claude by his shoulder. “And I see you’ve brought you’ve brought Doctor Campos with you. I see you two had lunch in the cafeteria again?”
“Yes, we came from there,” Claude answered, feeling unnerved at the possibility that even the department head had noticed his habits despite his efforts at remaining discreet. Fortunately Dr. Wolfman was said to be lenient regarding the personal lives of his residents, at least if the word in the residents’ office was to be believed.
“More of your residents?” the stranger asked, his honey colored eyes bright with apparent curiosity.
“Just the boy. He’s one of the first-years, but he’s shaping up to be worth something,” Dr. Wolfman said proudly. “Claude, Doctor Campos, meet Armand Chant. He’s a representative from the Pathways Solutions industrial engineering firm, hopefully one of the potential donors to this department. Armand, meet Doctor Claude Ramirez and Doctor Francesca Campos. Doctor Campos is also a resident from the Department of Pediatrics.”
“A pleasure,” Armand said, shaking Claude’s hand smartly. He reached for Fran’s hand and kissed her fingertips. “Enchante.”
Fran smiled as she moved her fingers away and reached for Armand’s hand to shake it. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Chant,” the young woman replied cordially.
Armand nodded but the suave smile did not leave his face. “Hopefully there isn’t a Mr. Campos around?” he inquired, his glance shooting down once again to her hand.
“Only my father,” Fran replied coolly.
Claude gritted his teeth at this awkward series of introductions. He rested a hand firmly on Fran’s shoulder. “We should get going to meet the others about next week’s clinic,” he insisted.
One of Armand’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Dr. Wolfman and Claude. “What clinic?”
“A relatively new project of ours. Some of the residents in this hospital run an outreach clinic every Wednesday morning at Trovatore Hill,” Dr. Wolfman replied. “How many doctors join you every week, Claude?”
‘It’s not an outreach, it’s an extension clinic,’ Claude wanted to say, but he bit the inside of his cheek. The Trovatore Hill project was after all, intended to be somewhat more comprehensive and long-standing when compared to the regular missions that the hospital sponsored around the country. “Around five or six, from different departments,” he replied, keeping his tone level.
“How charming,” Armand said even though his smile at that moment resembled a sneer. He reached into his pocket for a pen, but ended up pulling out a cigarette. “Doesn’t it tire you out or take time away from your training here?” he asked, flicking the cigarette between his fingers till at last, he slid it up his sleeve.
“No, it’s pretty much factored into our weekly schedules,” Claude said as he crossed his arms and returned Armand’s smirk. “Other residents have more demanding rotations than we do, but they manage just fine at our other extension clinics and missions.”
“Demanding? Aside from Obstetrics, what rotations can be worse than Surgery or Pediatrics?” Armand chuckled. “You two must either be excellent multi-taskers, or extremely dedicated.”
“Claude and Francesca have been involved in medical missions since they were students at St. Martin de Porres Medical College,” Dr. Wolfman supplied, his voice tinged with pride.
“Fascinating. But you’ve never been to Trovatore Hill before? I thought that would be one of your first places for a mission, considering the proximity,” Armand said.
“We tended to get assigned to the provincial missions,” Fran replied.
Dr. Wolfman coughed. “Perhaps if you and some of your colleagues are interested, you can drop by Trovatore Hill and see what we do?”
“If we will not be in the way,” Armand replied, glancing at his watch.
Dr. Wolfman smiled by way of acknowledgment. “I’d love to stay and chat, but yes, I believe that the other residents are waiting inside the office to discuss the clinic,” he said to the group. “Claude, please check that the morning batch of interns endorsed the patients properly to the afternoon group, with special attention to the orders for IV fluids. I’d hate to have a repeat of some other perfectly avoidable incidents.”
Armand nodded. “I’m sorry for the disturbance. I will not keep you two from your work any longer. See you two around,” he said to Claude and Fran.
Claude’s hand tightened into a fist as he watched Dr. Wolfman and Armand continue on down the hallway. “Potential donor, huh?” he muttered.
“Of funds, not organs!” Fran whispered, clearly fighting to keep a straight face. “For a moment there I thought you were going to punch his lights out.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Claude argued.
Fran rolled her eyes knowingly even as the sound of Mikey’s heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. “I never pegged you as the jealous type,” she whispered.
“I am sure that your company’s offer of a donation will be very well received by the directors. We are after all, a public hospital---and a very underfunded one at that,” Dr. Wolfman said. “This is a surprise; not that I’m complaining. I never thought though that updating a hospital’s equipment was something that the Pathways firm would take an interest in.”
“We are after all, a trouble-shooting firm. It is about time we did our work right where it is needed the most,” the stranger replied with a winsome grin.
‘No use trying to mosey past,’ Claude thought as he and Fran got nearer to the door. “Good afternoon,” he and Fran said by way of greeting. He noticed that Dr. Wolfman had put on a clean white coat over surgical scrubs, and looked as if he had just come from shaving, if his ruddy face was any indicator. The russet-haired man he was talking to was deliberately dressed for business in an expensive gray suit and a dark blue tie.
“Ah, there you are, Doctor Ramirez. I was just about to ask someone to search for you,” Dr. Wolfman said, reaching out to grab Claude by his shoulder. “And I see you’ve brought you’ve brought Doctor Campos with you. I see you two had lunch in the cafeteria again?”
“Yes, we came from there,” Claude answered, feeling unnerved at the possibility that even the department head had noticed his habits despite his efforts at remaining discreet. Fortunately Dr. Wolfman was said to be lenient regarding the personal lives of his residents, at least if the word in the residents’ office was to be believed.
“More of your residents?” the stranger asked, his honey colored eyes bright with apparent curiosity.
“Just the boy. He’s one of the first-years, but he’s shaping up to be worth something,” Dr. Wolfman said proudly. “Claude, Doctor Campos, meet Armand Chant. He’s a representative from the Pathways Solutions industrial engineering firm, hopefully one of the potential donors to this department. Armand, meet Doctor Claude Ramirez and Doctor Francesca Campos. Doctor Campos is also a resident from the Department of Pediatrics.”
“A pleasure,” Armand said, shaking Claude’s hand smartly. He reached for Fran’s hand and kissed her fingertips. “Enchante.”
Fran smiled as she moved her fingers away and reached for Armand’s hand to shake it. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Chant,” the young woman replied cordially.
Armand nodded but the suave smile did not leave his face. “Hopefully there isn’t a Mr. Campos around?” he inquired, his glance shooting down once again to her hand.
“Only my father,” Fran replied coolly.
Claude gritted his teeth at this awkward series of introductions. He rested a hand firmly on Fran’s shoulder. “We should get going to meet the others about next week’s clinic,” he insisted.
One of Armand’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Dr. Wolfman and Claude. “What clinic?”
“A relatively new project of ours. Some of the residents in this hospital run an outreach clinic every Wednesday morning at Trovatore Hill,” Dr. Wolfman replied. “How many doctors join you every week, Claude?”
‘It’s not an outreach, it’s an extension clinic,’ Claude wanted to say, but he bit the inside of his cheek. The Trovatore Hill project was after all, intended to be somewhat more comprehensive and long-standing when compared to the regular missions that the hospital sponsored around the country. “Around five or six, from different departments,” he replied, keeping his tone level.
“How charming,” Armand said even though his smile at that moment resembled a sneer. He reached into his pocket for a pen, but ended up pulling out a cigarette. “Doesn’t it tire you out or take time away from your training here?” he asked, flicking the cigarette between his fingers till at last, he slid it up his sleeve.
“No, it’s pretty much factored into our weekly schedules,” Claude said as he crossed his arms and returned Armand’s smirk. “Other residents have more demanding rotations than we do, but they manage just fine at our other extension clinics and missions.”
“Demanding? Aside from Obstetrics, what rotations can be worse than Surgery or Pediatrics?” Armand chuckled. “You two must either be excellent multi-taskers, or extremely dedicated.”
“Claude and Francesca have been involved in medical missions since they were students at St. Martin de Porres Medical College,” Dr. Wolfman supplied, his voice tinged with pride.
“Fascinating. But you’ve never been to Trovatore Hill before? I thought that would be one of your first places for a mission, considering the proximity,” Armand said.
“We tended to get assigned to the provincial missions,” Fran replied.
Dr. Wolfman coughed. “Perhaps if you and some of your colleagues are interested, you can drop by Trovatore Hill and see what we do?”
“If we will not be in the way,” Armand replied, glancing at his watch.
Dr. Wolfman smiled by way of acknowledgment. “I’d love to stay and chat, but yes, I believe that the other residents are waiting inside the office to discuss the clinic,” he said to the group. “Claude, please check that the morning batch of interns endorsed the patients properly to the afternoon group, with special attention to the orders for IV fluids. I’d hate to have a repeat of some other perfectly avoidable incidents.”
Armand nodded. “I’m sorry for the disturbance. I will not keep you two from your work any longer. See you two around,” he said to Claude and Fran.
Claude’s hand tightened into a fist as he watched Dr. Wolfman and Armand continue on down the hallway. “Potential donor, huh?” he muttered.
“Of funds, not organs!” Fran whispered, clearly fighting to keep a straight face. “For a moment there I thought you were going to punch his lights out.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Claude argued.
Fran rolled her eyes knowingly even as the sound of Mikey’s heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. “I never pegged you as the jealous type,” she whispered.