“But my intention was true. I want to resolve this animosity between us so we can get to work. Is that something we can do?”
“I suppose.”
His look lingered a moment longer before he dismissed himself from my office.
“What the hell does my dad see in that guy?”
I sat beside Shelly in the conference room, at the opposite end of the table from where Atlas sat, right at the head. The projector was behind him, and his laptop was open on the table in front of him. Casual in his sweatshirt and jeans, he looked around the table like he wasn’t the least bit concerned that he was the outsider.
Shelly leaned toward me. “Um…he’s the hottest boss I’ve ever had.”
“And he’s the most arrogant one I’ve ever had, too.”
“Something happen with you guys?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Alright.” His confident voice filled the room as he looked around at the eight of us. We were a small group of physicians, and unfortunately, that meant we had more patients than we could see. The wait list was enormous. “Let me start by saying that I’m really excited to be here. I’ve been aware of the clinic since its inception, and it’s been an inspiration for me in my professional career.” He sat straight in the chair, his arms on the table, commanding the attention of the room effortlessly. A pen was between his fingers, and he spun it around lightly as he continued to address us. “When I was young, I had a very rare blood disorder. My childhood was spent in doctor’s offices, clinging to less hope every time a physician shattered my dreams. We raced against the clock because if we didn’t find a solution within a year or two, I’d be dead. I grew up in London, and all the prestigious hospitals there couldn’t find a diagnosis. We came across the pond to disappointment. UCSF, Stanford, Johns Hopkins…hundreds of thousands of dollars wasted that my parents couldn’t afford in the first place—with no progress. By that time, I was weak and brittle. I had little time left—until we came to this clinic.” He tapped his pen against the surface of the table. “Dr. Rosenburg was the physician who figured it out. He’s retired and passed away since. That man saved my life when no one else could. It’s an honor to be here—and I’m very invested in what you do. Medicine has lost sight of its principles and purpose. It’s inundated with PPOs, insurance bureaucracy, medicine for profit, a bunch of bullshit we’re all aware of. My parents didn’t deserve to be in debt for trying to save my life. I also believe medical professionals deserve to be compensated fairly for their expertise and time, but we shouldn’t have to see fifty different doctors to get a diagnosis that should be found on the first or second try.”
Okay…respect him more.
He looked around at all of us, his eyes lingering on me for the shortest period of time. “I founded the Diagnostic Network when I was at Cambridge. Through relationships and connections, I was able to establish a system that works—but not with the same success rate that you guys demonstrate. Medicine needs to be present—doctor and patient in the same room. What are my goals for this clinic? To grow it as much as possible—so everyone will have hope.”
Everyone was silent—including me.
“As for my qualifications, I can list off everything I’ve done in my career. PhDs from top universities domestically and internationally, medical school, multiple residencies and specialties. Research in cellular and molecular biology…shit you guys don’t care about. But the most important aspect of any candidate is their passion. Do they care about their job? Or is it just a paycheck? You guys can figure out the answer to that.”
I watched him from across the table, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.
“I have no interest in turning this into a corporate environment. I want to expand, but keep the same structure. We’ll have to figure out how to retain the successful aspects of this clinic, but also grow it so more patients can get the care they need—for reasonable prices. I’ll need your help to make that happen because I don’t come from a business background. Maybe that’s a good thing because business and medicine don’t mix. What are your questions?”
Anthony made eye contact with me then quickly looked away.
Everyone else looked at one another, and the silence stretched.
Atlas grabbed his laptop and pulled it closer. “Brief me on our patients, and let’s get to work.”
I still believed Anthony or someone else should have gotten the position.
But I did feel guilty for being harsh with Atlas.
His heart was clearly in the right place, and those were the kinds of values we needed at the clinic.
I was on my couch staring at the wall, more papers scattered on the coffee table in front of me. I had a patient with unusual symptoms, black urine, inexplicable body pain that went everywhere, got worse with exercise, and was so debilitating that she was disabled. A career, romance, social life…they were all off the table.