The ride to Manhattan General was a little longer than the ride she'd taken the previous day to University Hospital. Both institutions were on the Upper East Side and approximately equal distance to the north from OCME, but the General was farther west, sprawled along Central Park. It took up more than an entire city block, with several pedestrian walkways spanning the surrounding streets to connect with outlying buildings. The complex had been constructed of gray stone in fits and starts during the course of almost a century, so the various wings were of slightly different architectural design. The newest wing with the most modern silhouette and named for the benefactor, Samuel B. Goldblatt, stuck off the back of the main structure at right angles. It was the VIP wing, the equivalent of where Laurie's mother had been roomed over at the University Hospital.
Having been to the Manhattan General on a number of occasions, including visiting Sue, Laurie knew where she was going, which was helpful, since the hospital was always mobbed. She headed directly to the Kaufman outpatient building. Once inside, she walked down to the internal medicine section and inquired after her friend at the main check-in desk. When Laurie mentioned her own name, the secretary handed her an envelope. Inside was a completed script for a screen for the BRCA1 marker, as well as a note from Sue. The note told her where the genetics lab was located in the central building on the second floor. There were also instructions for Laurie to go first to admitting. As a new AmeriCare subscriber, she had to get a hospital card. The final line in the note said that Laurie should go directly to the cafeteria when she was finished, and that Sue would meet her there.
Obtaining the hospital card took more time than the blood test. She had to wait in line to see one of the customer-service representatives. Still, it took only fifteen minutes, and she was soon on her way up to the laboratory on the second floor. Sue's directions were clear, and Laurie found the genetics diagnostics lab without difficulty. Inside, it was surprisingly serene in comparison to the rest of the hospital. Canned classical music issued from wall speakers. Framed prints of Monet's "Water Lilies" from the Museum of Modern Art lined the walls. No patients were in the ' waiting room when Laurie handed over Sue's script to the receptionist. It was apparent that walk-in genetic testing was in its infancy, but Laurie knew it would soon be changing, and with it, medicine in general.
Sitting in the waiting area, Laurie was again forced to confront the reality of what might be lurking deep within the core of her being. It was a disturbing revelation to think she was possibly carrying an instrument of her own death in the form of a mutated gene. It was a kind of unconscious suicide or built-in self-destructive device, which was certainly the reason she'd been actively avoiding thinking about it. Would she be positive or negative? She didn't know, and being in the hospital made her feel like a gambler, something she was never comfortable with. Had Jack not insisted, she most likely would have put off doing the test indefinitely. But now that she was there, she would have the blood drawn, and then she would forget about it, a trait Laurie shared with her mother.
After the blood was drawn, a deceptively simple procedure, Laurie returned to the first floor and waited in line at the main information desk. She had no idea where the cafeteria was located in the extensive complex. When it was her turn, the pink-smocked volunteer asked Laurie if she wanted the main cafeteria or the staff cafeteria. Momentarily indecisive, Laurie said the staff cafeteria and was given directions.
The directions were complicated but made easier by the volunteer's last suggestion-namely, to follow a purple line on the floor. After a five-minute walk, Laurie found herself in the staff cafeteria. Since it was quarter past twelve, the place was bustling. Laurie had no idea the staff of the Manhattan General was as large as it was, especially considering that the crowd represented only a portion of one shift out of three.
Laurie looked around at the teeming faces both sitting at tables and waiting in the steam-table line. The babble of reverberating conversation reminded her of the noise of a wetland sanctuary on a late summer night. With such a crowd, Laurie couldn't help but be immediately pessimistic about hooking up with Sue. The plan smacked of trying to meet a friend in Times Square on New Year's Eve.
Just when Laurie was about to head over to the cashiers to ask for a house phone to page her friend, a hand tapped her on the shoulder. To Laurie's delight, it was Sue, who enveloped her in a big hug. Sue was a big-boned, athletic woman of color who had excelled at college soccer and softball. Laurie felt tiny in her embrace. As usual, Sue looked fetching. In contrast to most of her colleagues, she was dressed in a stylish and flattering silk dress overlaid with a highly starched white coat. Similar to Laurie, she liked to indulge her feminine side with her attire.
"I hope you didn't bring your appetite," Sue teased while gesturing toward the steam-table line. "But joking aside, the food's not that bad."
As they descended the steam-table line and chose their food, they maintained a superficial banter about their respective professional roles. While waiting in the cashiers' line, Laurie asked about Sue's two children. Sue had gotten married just after medical school and had a boy, fifteen, and a girl, twelve. Laurie couldn't help but be jealous.
"Except for the agony of adolescence, everything is hunky-dory," Sue said. "What about you and Jack? Any light at the end of the tunnel? Seems to me you've got to get a move on, girl! I happen to know you are sneaking up to the big forty-three in a few days, since I'm close behind."
Laurie felt her face flush, along with a twinge of irritation that she was incapable of hiding anything. She could tell that Sue had caught the reaction, and since she and Sue had been friends for al- most twenty-six years, she had confided in her about her desire for children and the situation with Jack, particularly over the last two years. Laurie was not going to be able to get away with platitudes.
"Jack and I are history," Laurie said, deciding to be more forthright than she actually felt, "at least intimacy-wise."
"Oh, no! What's wrong with that boy?"
Laurie wrinkled her forehead and shrugged to say she had no idea. She didn't want to get into a long, drawn-out emotional conversation in her current state.
"Well, you know something… good riddance. You've been more than patient with that indecisive nincompoop. You should get a medal, because he ain't going to change."
Laurie nodded and had to restrain herself from defending Jack, even though what Sue was saying was true.
Sue wouldn't let Laurie pay for her lunch and insisted on putting the charges on her house account. With their trays in hand, they managed to get a table for two by the window. The view was of an inner courtyard with an empty fountain. In the summer, it was lush with flowers, water gushing from the fountain's multiple tiers.
They talked casually for a few more minutes about the situation with Jack, with Sue doing most of the talking. She then insisted that she would find someone more suitable for Laurie, and Laurie teased her by daring her to try. The conversation then switched to why Laurie had to have the BRCA1 screen. Laurie told the story about her mother and the fact that as usual, her mother had hidden the information from her. Sue's only comment was that she would arrange an appointment for Laurie with a top-notch oncologist if the test came back positive.
"What about a primary-care physician?" Sue asked after a short pause. "Now that you are officially a subscriber, you're going to need one."
"How about you?" Laurie suggested. "Are you taking new patients?"
"I'd be honored," Sue replied. "But are you sure you would be comfortable with me as your doc?"