I arrived in the Accident and Emergency Department, dressed in the green theatre clothes with hat on and wellington boots. I stood at the door and having made sure that Dr Braver had finished speaking, I coughed to catch his attention.
“Hello, Dr Braver.” I said, as I entered the room.
“Hi!” He replied.
“We think Oliver has a perforated appendix, I said and paused to see his reaction.
“So?” He said.
“I wanted to check him again before calling Dr Bigfellow.”
“Why Dr Bigfellow?” Dr Braver asked, staring at me as if he had never heard of that name.
“Dr Bigfellow is the consultant surgeon on call.” I replied.
“Oh no. Not him,” Dr Braver replied, almost like a little child who has met his phobia. “My God. Look at those big hands! Those hands are too big to perform an appendicectomy on a tiny creature like Oliver. Gosh! He will slash him from chin to shin.”
“Can I call Dr Drifter then?” I suggested.
“You don’t mean that. Do you?” Dr Braver replied. “Besides, he has probably forgotten how to take an appendix. He must have lost that skill in a bottle of Whiskey a long time ago.”
“In that wise, maybe I should call Dr Saint,” I suggested, knowing that Dr Saint was the oldest surgeon at the Infirmary and he was highly regarded.
Dr Braver looked at his son and said pitiably, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Dr Saint will not operate on my boy. He will probably use silk or a rope or whatever they used in those days to stitch the wound.”
I looked at Dr Braver, not knowing whether to laugh or agree with his assertion. His venomous look pierced my vulnerable body, and I forced an affirmative nod.
Mrs Jezzie Braver sat down quietly on one of the benches in front of the A & E department. At that time of the night, the almost total chaos in the department had died down. That was very good for her, as she was desperate to find a quiet place. A place where she could cry quietly and reflect over her marriage, Oliver’s illness and, in deed, her whole life.
“Honey!” Dr Braver called, as he sat beside his wife.
Jezzie looked at her husband and tears welled in her eyes.
“Why are you like this?” she asked, trying to control her voice.
“Why am I like what?” Dr Braver snapped.
Still trying to keep her voice down, Jezzie replied, “Why are you so impossible?”
“Hey baby what’s up?” Dr Braver said casually, trying to trivialise the whole thing. He knew he had blown it and had to tread carefully.
Jezzie brought out a cigarette and Dr Braver brought out his lighter to light it for her. She brushed his hand aside and got up. Then she lit her cigarette and took a long piercing look at her husband. Even in the dimness of the A&E department, her eyes were red and swollen. All the make-up had gone. And she looked like a hungry lion ready to pounce on its prey.
“You are asking me what’s up? My God! Please just go. Leave me alone.” She screamed.
“What is the big deal about appendicitis that everybody has become all panicky?” Dr Braver shouted, trying to direct the flow of the dialogue.
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“Oh, so you now believe it is appendicitis. No more 50% mesenteric adenitis. Nonspecific abdominal pain and the nonsense of your papers?” Jezzie snapped.
“It probably is not appendicitis. But even if it was, what does it matter?” Dr Braver asked arrogantly.
“What does it matter? Have you lost your senses? You cannot even diagnose appendicitis on your own son and you’re asking me what does it matter?” Jezzie asked, her voice now becoming uncomfortably high for Dr Braver.
“You see, the abdomen is a difficult part of the body. And it is even more difficult in children.” Dr Braver said.
Jezzie stepped forward and almost touched his face with her finger as she snarled, “I see, Dr Braver MD PhD FRCS Consultant Surgeon, cannot diagnose appendicitis in a child because the abdomen is a difficult area. But the abdomen is not difficult for the SHO. Not even for the registrar who is foreign trained. That’s what you’re saying. Isn’t it? You are a disgrace. And you should be ashamed of yourself.”
“How dare you speak to me like that?” Dr Braver shouted.
“So? Hit me then. Mr ‘Know all’. Come on hit me,” Jezzie said, moving closer to him.
“I won’t hit you. Civilised people don’t do that. Besides, this is an intellectual argument. It requires engagement of the brain not the muscles,” Dr Braver said, his voice softening. He blew out a thick smoke from his pipe and as he watched it spiral up into the sky, added, “People like you are common in the Women’s Magazine, Cosmopolitan or whatever you read. You see, my dear lady, intellectuals don’t shout. They discuss!”
Jezzie burst into laughter, almost catching the attention of the people waiting inside the A & E department. She drew in long on her cigarette and blew it directly across Dr Braver’s face. And in a slow and emphatic tone, she said, “I know what your problem is. I think you are suffering from Consultantitis. In other words, pathological arrogance.”
“Well, that’s your opinion. And everybody is entitled to her opinion no matter how stupid.”
“Oh, when did the eminent Professor, the best surgeon in the world, the epitome of surgical text book, start to respect other person’s opinion?”
“You are crazy, Mrs Braver. And that’s why I love you,” he said, almost whispering.
“You are a very interesting person, Alex. Always proving your wrong to be right. You don’t give in. Do you? Our son is seriously ill and here we are, arguing stupidly.”
“You started it.” Dr Braver said.
“No. I didn’t.” Jezzie replied.
“Who did then? You are the one who called the ambulance. You are the one who called a mere SHO to examine a consultant’s son?” Dr Braver said.
“So that’s your concern. If Dr Braver cannot do it no one can do it! Is that it?” Jezzie replied.
“He was lucky to make the diagnosis. An SHO should be able to diagnose acute appendicitis, anyway,” he said authoritatively.
“And the Consultant?” Jezzie asked.
“He does the operating.” Dr Braver replied.
“You are a very interesting person, Alex. Very interesting indeed.” Jezzie remarked sarcastically.
“Theatre is ready, Dr Braver. Do you want us to take Oliver directly to theatre or do you want him to first go to the ward?” A nurse said after nervously clearing her throat to catch his attention.