Dr. Reynauld 's secretary, Ms. Edgington called upon the overnight lab technician, Lydia, to join her and Dr. Reynauld in his office to discuss what they believed to be a mix up in a patient's blood work. The harassed young woman was in the middle of multiple tests for several doctors in the hospital and the last technician on duty left her a full caseload of tests to analyze and generate reports. She was not pleased at being interrupted tonight, but Dr. Reynauld was an important man and she did not want to get on his bad side.
She knocked on his office and was told to enter. Ms. Edgington was sitting in one of two chairs poised in front of Dr. Reynauld's desk and he was casually leaning back, relaxed. Lydia's muscles tensed. She had so much work to do and these two were just lounging in his office? Infuriating.
She stood beside Ms. Edgington instead of politely sitting. She planned to be in this office no more than 5 minutes. "You asked for me?" She said tersely to the doctor.
He smiled and gestured for her to sit. She forced a smile on her face but remained standing. "Dr. Reynauld, I only have a few minutes to spare. I am the only tech on shift tonight and have a full load of patient tests to work on. If you would please be brief."
He smiled back at her, infuriating her further. All the doctors in this hospital thought their patients were the most important. They griped at her to rush their labs not realizing that if everything was urgent, nothing was. She was one person who could only do so many things at once.
"I'm Dr. Reynauld. I'm not sure we've met in person before, Lydia. But Ms. Edgington tells me you work the evening shift most weeknights. Is that correct?"
Ms. Edgington gave her a friendly look as well and Lydia pressed her toes tightly against the bottom of her shoes. She had developed this habit to avoid clenching her fists. "Yes, Dr. Reynauld. I am here 6 nights a week. I've brought my tablet. Which patient file do you need me to look at?" She tried to sound professional but direct. She needed him to get to the point so she could return to her lab. Unintentionally she began reciting each test she needed to perform by order of priority. Another habit she had developed. Reciting her to do list kept her focused.
"Very well, Lydia. My patient, Mrs. Stewart, was in a minor car accident. She has a broken rib and a few minor abrasions. She is complaining of intermittent dizziness that I have no explanation for at this time. However, this afternoon's blood panel results are alarming. And very different from yesterday. Please have a look." He turned his screen toward her and glanced at the numbers.
She finally did sit down in the chair beside Ms. Edgington, resigned to the fact that this may take longer than she anticipated. She pulled Mrs. Stewart's previous tests on her tablet and compared them to the results on his computer. She frowned. They were drastically different. Lydia was not a doctor nor a pathologist. She had a very analytical brain. But it was not her job to diagnose patients. She performed the tests and jotted down an initial interpretation. Her job, and what she was best at, was to ensure the tests were performed correctly and the results accurate.
Lydia had not performed the tests on Mrs. Stewart's blood. But looking at the most recent report she would not have found the interpretation to be erroneous from these results alone. The numbers were obviously high, and indicative of a medical problem, but they were not so high as to be impossible. However, seeing this report next to the previous day's report, the results did seem unlikely to be from the same patient, and definitely not someone with the minor injuries described by the doctor.
Lydia's frown deepened as she pulled up the methodology of each test performed, scanning for obvious errors in procedure. Dr. Reynauld let her do her work in silence. He kept the screen open to Mrs. Stewart's file and perused a folder she assumed with a glance was the physical record. She caught herself from scoffing. Even Doctors as young as Dr. Reynauld seemed to prefer paper records while her eyes were much more adept at processing electronic information. Although, seeing as she was reading an electronic report that could not possibly be accurate, she supposed she should be less judgemental about his preference of physical files.
Lydia heard Ms. Edgington stand from her chair, and she briefly wondered at the secretary's presence in this meeting. She didn't know her well, but she knew she had been the personal secretary of Dr. Reynauld and Dr. Shadows for many years. She must be capable to be so seemingly respected by Dr. Reynauld.
She tensed but continued her analysis when Ms. Edgington placed a hand on her shoulder. She was standing behind her now. Ms. Edgington leaned her face down to look over her shoulder. "Lydia," Ms. Edgington whispered, sending a shiver down Lydia's spine. "Do you recall a male patient from last week who had similar lab results?" The tingling shiver grew, though Lydia was not afraid of the older woman. No, her ridiculous body seemed to be aroused by the intimacy of having someone talk quietly in her ear.
Lydia frowned and glanced up. She couldn't see Ms. Edgington without craning her neck, so she looked towards Dr. Reynauld. "Another patient of yours had lab results like this?" She asked skeptically. Again, the labs weren't impossible or unbelievable, but they did indicate a serious illness. How likely was it for two patients to have so severely similar results?
Okay, maybe that was not unlikely. This was a hospital. The patients treated were often very ill. "Stupid question, Lydia." She chided herself.
It occurred to her that Ms. Edgington would encounter lab reports of various patients and know they're general symptoms much better than Lydia, as Ms. Edgington was up here in the hospital wards. She likely handled countless files and talked to patients, doctors, nurses, and any staff that passed through. Lydia, down in the basement lab, never knew anything about the patients themselves. She ran tests on blood and recorded her findings. She didn't have time or interest in delving into files, patient backgrounds, demographics, or symptoms. She wasn't a diagnostician and she didn't match her findings to the patient's symptoms. The doctors did that. If they couldn't treat a patient based on the lab results, they ran more tests.
Dr. Reynauld smiled at her again. He didn't chide her for her foolishness. "Honestly, Lydia I am not sure if Ms. Edgington is thinking of my patient or Dr. Shadows. I have many patients and once they are discharged, I often archive them in my thoughts. If that makes sense."
She smiled back at him. He did make sense. She focused on her tests, one patient after the next and didn't carry those results with her as she moved to the next file.
"Ms. Edgington has better retention for such things." He confided in Lydia. And she thought she could feel the glow of the woman behind her being praised by her boss.
