“So, Miss Grazdani, I have arranged for you to do research, starting today, with Dr. Roselyn Gorin, who is one of the most talented people on campus. She has a Lasker Prize, as you may know, and she’s doing absolutely groundbreaking work on the differentiation of stem cells into specific adult cells. Roselyn is a friend of mine. She’s a wonderfully warm and understanding person. I just talked with her ten minutes ago, and she’s very happy to take you on. Happy’s not the right word in these circumstances, but she’s very willing to help.”
Dr. Bourse smiled hopefully.
“Today? I can’t possibly start today,” Pia said.
George winced as it was apparent to him that Dr. Bourse’s first reaction was of intense irritation.
Dr. Bourse paused in order to gain control of her emotions, as she was as irritated as George had sensed. Roselyn was a friend, but in fact she hadn’t been overjoyed about taking on a new student, especially Rothman’s student, who had built up a reputation of her own, fairly or not. Dr. Bourse wanted to tell Pia to get her act together, but she held her tongue.
“I’m very grateful for what you’ve done,” Pia said quickly, trying to sound sincere. “Really,” she added, as if she sensed she was pushing it. “But I just got this news an hour ago, and I really can’t think straight. I need a couple of days. To get my head together.”
Dr. Bourse sighed again. Pia was not the easiest individual to get along with. At the same time what she was saying was undoubtedly true. Everyone at the center was going to be shaken by the deaths. Dr. Yamamoto was a very popular presence and even if few could tolerate Rothman on a one-on-one basis, his death was still a blow, especially under these circumstances. He was, after all, the center’s scientific celebrity.
“Okay, Miss Grazdani. Today is Thursday. Monday morning, first thing, I shall expect you to resume your responsibilities as a fourth-year medical student. I am also reminding you to stay away from Dr. Rothman’s laboratory. This is compassionate leave, not an opportunity for you to play epidemiologist again. We have real epidemiologists who are qualified to do the work. Do you understand?”
Pia nodded.
“Please say, ‘I understand,’ ” Dr. Bourse said. She wanted to be absolutely clear.
“I understand,” Pia said, almost inaudibly.
“Mr. Wilson. You’ll return to Radiology today-”
“Absolutely, Dean,” George said, cutting her off.
“And you will also cease enabling Miss Grazdani. Perhaps you might want to ask yourself why you, with a hitherto spotless record, are drawn into the kind of behavior we saw last night. Gnothi seauton-do you know what that means? It means ‘Know thyself,’ and it’s something that we as physicians need to remember always.
“I doubt that it was your idea, Mr. Wilson, to break into Dr. Rothman’s lab, and I hope that in the future you will let your actions be guided more by your intellect than by your id-by your cerebrum more than your hypothalamus.”
George eagerly nodded agreement.
“Everyone clear?” Dr. Bourse said. Pia and George nodded in unison.
“Well, thank you. You can go.”
Dr. Bourse watched George hold the door open for Pia, who left without acknowledging George. She acted as if George holding the door for her was a matter of right.
Dr. Bourse sat at her desk for a few minutes of contemplation. Since a large part of her job was to get to know her population of medical students at the Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons, she thought about the strange relationship between Pia and George. Of course, fraternization between students was not necessarily encouraged, nor was it discouraged, provided it did not interfere with performance. In this romance, it was pretty obvious what he saw in her as she was the source of considerable gossip around the center as a particularly beautiful, intelligent, but enigmatic young woman. What wasn’t so clear was whether there was any reverse attraction.
Relations between staff and students, on the other hand, were officially frowned upon, but it was difficult to enforce a ban when the parties were all consenting adults and the students mostly in their late twenties. There had been persistent rumors concerning Pia Grazdani and Dr. Rothman. Again, Pia’s exotic beauty and obvious intelligence were lost on few people, but what she might possibly have seen in him was beyond most people’s comprehension. But nothing was ever substantiated and while there was every reason to believe that Dr. Rothman had given his student significant responsibilities and privileges, there was never any evidence that he had done so inappropriately. And now, Dr. Bourse thought, the conundrum of their relationship would just have to remain one of life’s little mysteries.
31.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER NEW YORK CITY MARCH 24, 2011, 12:10 P.M.
After leaving the dean’s office, Pia spent the rest of the morning stewing in her room. Her feelings were in absolute turmoil, emotions and thoughts swirling in and out of her consciousness so that one minute she felt utterly depressed, the next she was sharp and motivated. She was still angry at Rothman for getting sick, and also at Springer, the chief of Infectious Diseases, for letting Rothman die, which she believed he did by selecting an outdated antibiotic despite the supposed sensitivity testing that Rothman himself had done. And why did it have to be her, a lowly fourth-year medical student, who made the diagnosis of the incipient peritonitis, the onset of which had heralded the man’s death?
But most acutely, Pia knew she was devastated by the simple fact that Rothman was dead. She was depressed at the thought of what it meant to her future. Pia had a lot of practice at dispassionately breaking down a situation and identifying how it affected her. It was the emotional aspects of her state of mind that she struggled with the most.
Pia had been completely convinced by Rothman’s argument that she wasn’t suited to clinical medicine, since she actually didn’t like most people, especially when they were sick and complaining about it. She had little sympathy for illness and none at all for any kind of complaining. At one point during her residency, after thirty-six hours without sleep, she had had to take blood from a patient, a tough-looking young policeman who was deathly afraid of needles. As the man wriggled and squirmed and Pia couldn’t for the life of her find a vein, she told him to “quit whining like a baby.” Fortunately, no one overheard her, and the man didn’t complain, although the staff did wonder why he made such an effort to avoid Pia for the rest of his stay.
With Rothman gone, she didn’t know if she had it in her to follow through with getting a Ph.D., which was a requirement if she was serious about pursuing a future in research. Most of all, the nagging issue of what had happened to Rothman wouldn’t leave her alone, and she mulled it over continuously. It could have been an accident, she knew, but it seemed very unlikely knowing Rothman as well as she did. He was too careful, too compulsive. And the two of them getting sick simultaneously? It didn’t make sense. But the alternatives seemed equally unlikely, especially the idea that he did it deliberately. The only other possibility, namely the idea that someone else did it deliberately, like Panjit, who might have had the opportunity, seemed even more unlikely.
The longer Pia sat in her room, the more agitated she became and the more motivated to take some action. But what? She paced around the room as best she could, given the close confines of the living area. She lay on her bed, but that was intolerable. She thought about calling Will or Lesley, but she didn’t know what she would say to them. She walked down the corridor to the soda machine, but she didn’t want anything to drink. Her mind was buzzing, racing, overheating.