C. Lynne Mackey (drmack) wrote in neogenesisrpg, @ 2009-02-19 17:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | clara mackey, vivian yahni |
Who: Clara Mackey, Vivian Yahni
What: Q&A
When: Wednesday, February 18
Where: Seattle Medical Center
Rating: G
Status: Complete
It was one of those long shifts where the hours seemed to meld into each other to the point that Clara was unsure if the four-thirty on her watch was AM or PM. Appointments, surgeries, and births all accompanied by fatigue and unpredictable waves of nausea. Monday was a challenge, Tuesday was difficult, and today was a struggle to get through.
She practically physically assaulted Gil with the files of the cases she was expected to handle in the next two hours. It was the first time she ever shouldered her responsibilities on someone else, and it left her irrationally angry. It wasn't his fault she was in this situation, but he easily could have if she'd let him, so he got the blame just the same. She needed a break.
When the door to her office opened, she was asleep at her desk with an IV attached to her left arm. With her schedule it was merely common sense that she needed to make sure that she kept her body hydrated and supplied the proper nutrients, an IV was a quick shortcut.
Vivian had forgone several offers to be 'shown around' and 'given a tour' in favor of finding her own footing in the hospital. She liked the sense of order that pervaded through the hallways. The meticulous care that everything be effectively scrubbed clean. The bloodstains, even, in the ER.
But her business wasn't with that part of the hospital, so she didn't linger, instead making her way up to the office of one Dr Clara Mackey. She knocked, but there was no answer and after five seconds, Vivin tried the door. It opened easily, though not exactly onto the type of scenario she'd anticipated. Certainly seeing doctors hooked up to IVs was a novelty - outside of some reeducation centers.
She cleared her throat to make her presence known, then, upon receiving no sign that the other woman was alive, approached the desk and lightly shook her arm. "Dr Mackey?"
Clara sat up with a start, and stared at the hand that shook her arm. She looked up at the woman attached to it and frowned. All of her appointments were to be rescheduled with Gil. Clara groaned and leaned back in her chair. "You should have been informed that I was unavailable. Dr. Hatayama is a very capable doctor and if you are uncomfortable with a male physician you can be rescheduled for an appointment with me tomorrow."
She glanced at her watch to check the time, and then she glanced at the IV and recorded the information on a sheet of paper. "What's your name? I'll take care of it."
The assumption was natural, but she wasn't a patient. Shaking her head, Vivian sat down without waiting for an invitation. "My name is Vivian Yahni. I'm an Operative with the government." It would have to do for an introduction. Officially, there was no rank attached to her name. No job description. She was everything and nothing all at the same time.
Clara dropped her pen and leaned back in her chair to take a good look at the woman. There were many reasons an operative for the government could came to pay her a visit. None that gave her any cause for concern. "What do you need?"
"Answers," Vivian explained, arching an eyebrow. The other woman hadn't asked her security clearance. Then again, she'd gotten this far with barely anyone asking her name. It would be so easy for someone to plant a bomb in this place... "You work with the Readjustment Center, correct?"
Clara had little reason to doubt the woman's story, if she managed to get past the receptionists and nurses stations to get to her office after expressed warnings to not be disturbed, credentials had to have gone into play somewhere. If not, hell would be paid later.
Clara reached into her labcoat pocket and produced the ID badge that was issued to her for the center and tossed it onto her desk. "The center sends over medical files with a request for a physician. I'm the one who usually gets assigned the cases."
Vivian picked up the badge, inspected it and set it right back down. "All cases, or just those within your area of speciality?" She wondered if this woman saw the most damaged cases as well as the ones who ended up 'healed'. She wondered how much, exactly, she knew about what they did there.
"I can't imagine your only purpose is to administer shots. Seems like a gross abuse of your expertise." And a poor move on Dr Jansen's part, if that was the case.
"Though I am currently a fellow within obstetrics, I am a certified reproductive endocrinologist. I handle all cases in regards to the reproductive health of both male and female patients." Clara picked up the badge and placed it back into her pocket.
She pulled open her desk drawer and pulled out the folder that listed her certifications, medical reviews, and performance assessments. She kept it up to date just for such occasions.
She passed it to the other woman. "I administer the serum on those willing to take it, but I also have clearance to evaluate the health of those on the upper floors.
I have martial arts and self-defense training, which I suppose means I'm less of a liability when faced with uncooperative individuals. There really isn't much of a difference to when the women's prison requests for a physician, which was something I partcipated in my residency."
Vivian listened with cool detachment, leafing through the certifications in the folder patiently. She didn't need to look at the other woman to read her body language and she didn't bother trying. If anything, Dr Clara Mackey was even more of an open book than Dr Jansen and Vivian had a problem with open books. They tended to have double covers.
"Were you involved in the Medina case?" she asked after a pause, stoping to examine a record of her results from med school. Examinations were the crisis evaluations of students. They said a lot about a person.
Ah, so that must be the reason the woman was asking questions. She nodded once. "The week of his death I was given his medical records, and I was scheduled to run several bloodtests. Tox screens, hormonal levels, standard biochemical evaluations. Medina died before I was able to interact with him directly."
Clara looked at the woman with interest, as she often was when someone was evaluating her, even if it was only on paper. "If there were hormonal irregularities that could cause his mental state, I would have been assigned as one of his primary physicians. What I saw of his records, it was clearly a case I would not be a primary." Which meant she had little interest in it.
No hormonal imbalance, nothing physical to justify the mental and the scales tipped against Dr Jansen. Not that it would matter, in the end. This was, on some level, the answer she'd been looking for.
Folding her hands over the file, Vivian focused her eyes on the other woman. "Antipsychotics and mood stabilizers could have been prescribed if he was indeed suffering from DID. Would you say Medina was a candidate for treatment?"
"I'd say that he was a candidate for psychiatric treatment. I assumed his case would be handled by the head psychologist on staff at the center, which I believe is Dr. Jansen. In the end it was her call." Clara reached into her labcoat pocket and pulled out a vial of droperidol and a syringe. Ub a few quick movements the correct dose was added to the IV and the implements stored in their proper places. She was rather practiced in that regard.
"Anything else?"
It all came back to Dr Jansen, whichever way you flipped it. Vivian nodded, taking the detail in with no particular regard for either party involved and eyed the syringe. "How well do you know Dr Jansen?" It wasn't a trick question so much as a verification. Standard interrogation procedure - ask one conspirator and then the other and compare. If one lied, both would be compromised. Of course, here, the stakes were much lower on the surface.
"She's the head supervisor at the center, every know and then she'll tail me on my rounds. That's about it. I get in, I get out, I don't have time to socialize. Any opinions of me she has that I know of are in that folder." Clara answered planly, with the disinterest of a subordinate talking about a superior, because that is what it was. The work she held in higher priority were in this hospital and not at the center, Clara's loyalty to the center did not run deep.
"The difference between reading someone's opinion and hearing it is that people are seldom honest in writing. Reports are dry and penned with the knowledge that someone higher up will read and evaluate and mark you and the person you're reporting on down in one column or another." In or out, that was the principle. And every hierarchy functioned on that single basis. Expecting lies and traps meant avoiding them, at least part of the time.
Vivian flipped the folder shut and set it back down onto the desk. "You're recently married, correct?"
"January 12," Clara answered blankly, "registered after I was picked in the lottery. It is also why I'm going to be stuck with this." She gestured to the catheter attached to the intravenous line. "Hyperemesis gravidarum, excessive vomiting and nausea brought on by pregnancy. I treat it often enough to know the signs. Just my luck."
"Indeed." And hers, too. All doctors involved and all of them women. It meant that anywhere from the next one to two months, they'd have to be treated with care. Given medical leave. Left alone. "Do you know who will replace you in your duties to the Center while you're on leave?"
"No, the physicians here are stretched thin as it is. In my absence the Center may have to request someone from a different hospital. There are not many certified doctors within my field of study. I don't intend on taking a full leave." Clara answered honestly, "I am going to continue to work until I am physically unable, the first 36 days are always the hardest."
Vivian nodded, not particularly concerned about the difficulty of bearing children or caring for them once they were born. That was for other women, other people, to worry about. "Understood. Until then, you will remain fully active as medical support for the Center, yes? Who do you normally report to as far as those duties go?"
Clara nodded. "I report to Dr. Jansen, her staff is responsible in keeping me up to date with the cases there. If you need any specific information on the cases I've handled at the Center, you will have to access them there." Clara pulled one of the embossed business cards from the holder on her desk and scribbled her cell phone number on the back before she held the card out for the woman to take. "Contact me if there are any problems."
Vivian returned the nod and took the card, clear in the understanding that their little interview was over. Perhaps the other woman wanted to get back to her nap. "Send your reports to me from now on. I'll keep Dr Jansen informed." She stood, folding the card into a pocket. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr Mackey."
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Yahni. Next time, call first, it would be a shame if you show up unannounced and I'm stuck in surgery for several hours." It was poor etiquette that Clara didn't stand or offer to shake her hand, but she didn't think the other woman cared. "I wouldn't want to waste your time."
"What makes you think I didn't call?" Vivian asked with a cold smile, making her way to the door. There was no reason to say goodbye. After all, chances were they'd be seeing each other again very soon. With a nod, she made her way out into the hall, no wiser about the leaks into the Medina case than before.