Once that was done, I went back to work. A couple of nursing assistants had taken on the task of decorating the pediatrics floor for the holidays, and while I’d been on my break, they’d outlined the nurse’s station with colored lights. They’d also put a tiny artificial Christmas tree next to the menorah, at the end of the counter that fronted the large desk. It wasn’t like this was going to make anyone feel better about being in the hospital during the holidays, but at least someone was making an effort to brighten up the place.
I stepped behind the desk and began reviewing some notes. Suddenly, Doctor Koenig appeared in front of me and snapped, “Have we gotten the lab results back yet for the patient in two-eighteen?” Why was he always so irritable?
“Let me check.” While I pulled up the information on the computer, I glanced at him and noticed he was wearing a new lab coat, along with a blue scrub top. “When you get the dry cleaning bill for your shirt and tie, let me know how much it is so I can reimburse you.”
He muttered, “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Sure it is.”
And just like that, he was annoyed. He straightened his posture, maybe to make himself appear taller. He was about six feet tall, which meant I had two inches on him. “Just let it go, Lassiter.”
“I will, after you tell me how much I owe you for the shirt and tie. Actually, I doubt all that food coloring will wash out, so I’ll pay to replace them, and—”
“Stop talking and look up the lab results.” Koenig was grinding his teeth. The man had no patience.
After a moment, I finished my search and reported, “They’re not back yet.”
“Why not? I put a rush order on them, and it’s been over two hours.”
“I can follow up if you want me to. I know the lab is backed up, because—”
“I don’t care why they’re backed up. Just get me the results.”
With that, he turned and strode away from the nurse’s station. Yolanda appeared at my side a moment later and deadpanned, “Oh shoot, I just missed Doctor Koenig. What a shame.”
“He was a real treat, same as ever.” I turned to her and asked, “Have you ever seen him smile, even once?”
“Never. I suspect he’s secretly an android, and expressing joy isn’t part of his programming.”
“That’s a good theory.” I stepped out from behind the desk and said, “I’ll be right back. I need to go down to the lab and check on some test results for him.”
“Why don’t you just call down?”
“Because it’s Koenig, and if I don’t have what he wants next time I see him, he’s going to look at me like I’m an incompetent moron. Again.”
I left the pediatrics floor and headed downstairs, then took a short-cut through the main lobby. It was right around five o’clock, and the hospital was busy. Administrators and office staff were heading home, while a lot of people were getting off work and coming to visit patients.
Cal West was one of the bigger and newer hospitals in San Francisco. It was modern and sophisticated, and a lot of money had been poured into its award-winning architectural design. That didn’t make it particularly warm and inviting, though. The cavernous lobby felt stark with its gray-on-gray color scheme and high ceilings, while a glass wall offered a sweeping view of the parking lot. But at least it didn’t have that institutional feel of some older hospitals.
When I reached the busy lab, they said it’d be a while before they could get to me, and I told them I wasn’t in a hurry. Trying to pressure them into doing something quickly was a sure-fire way of ending up at the bottom of their to-do list. Instead, I stood around chatting endlessly about any dumb thing that came to mind and generally made a nuisance of myself. Finally, they produced the test results just to get rid of me.
Yolanda once told me everyone basically thought of me as a loveable doofus. I didn’t take it as an insult. In fact, that perception served me well—with everyone except Koenig. I was all smiles when I returned to pediatrics and offered him the printout. He just scowled at me as he plucked it from my hand, and then he turned and walked away without saying a word.
I muttered, “You’re welcome,” and frowned at his back. Why did he have to be such a douche, all the time? There was no time to dwell on that though, because the busiest part of my shift was about to begin.
Over the next three hours, dinners were served, medicines were distributed, rounds were made, and visitors came and went. I didn’t sit down once during that time, which suited me fine. I liked being busy.