Thursday, September 14, 2023

Committee of Angels is featured today on Thursday's Opening Scene #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #Romance #medical #mystery

 The straining air conditioner barely managed to keep the temperature inside Charlie’s a tad cooler than the August heat outside. At ten minutes to midnight the temperature outside registered at eighty-nine. The humid air hung heavy.

Laura Bancroft paused inside the door of the dimly lit bar area of the restaurant. She walked to the large booth at the rear of the narrow rom. For a moment she wondered why she’d come. Her hectic schedule as an evening nurse, being a single mother and working on her master’s degree made joining her colleagues a seldom event.

Several nurses waved and slid along the curved bench. The dark-haired man seated at the end brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Glad you decided to come.”

Laura leaned against the padded back of the booth. “I’m free tonight. Stacey has a weekend sleepover and Dad invited his buddies for cards.”

His hand covered hers. “You’re free tomorrow. So am I. I’ve an idea. Come home with me.”

Laura sighed. Should she? She liked him. They shared classes at the local university as they both were working for a Master’s degree. Her hands tightened. Lately she’d felt uncomfortable. Moving beyond friendship seemed impossible.

Before she refused the waitress arrived with a tray of glasses. “The one with the straw is the soda.”

Laura took that glass. “Thanks for remembering.”

“You seldom indulge in alcohol.” He turned his beer mug in circles.

Exhaustion swept through Laura’s body. She bent her head and sipped the cola savoring the taste and the coolness on her dry throat. She listened to the gossip sweeping around the table.

“So I said,” One of the nurses began. “Doesn’t an elevated temp three days after surgery men something’s brewing.” She groaned. “This is the third pending infection for Blunder Doctor this month.”

“And it’s only August sixth,” another nurse said. “Give him a chance to better his record.”

“Guess what Princess Doc said this afternoon. “Don’t call me. Call the service and someone will get back to you. I have a busy evening.”

“She must have tickets to the opera,” Laura mumbled.

A nurse with gray hair Laura had never seen before leaned forward. “Seems things aren’t much different from the last place I worked.” She unfolded a piece of paper. “Months ago I read this. Five to ten percent of the nation’s doctors are so impaired or incompetent they cannot and should now practice medicine.”

A blast of chill air sent shivers along Laura’s spine. Mentally she listed the doctors at Bradley Memorial who fit that description. “I think the numbers are too low unless there are four or five hundred doctors on staff.”

Along with the article, laughter moved around the table.

“Maybe we have them all,” someone whispered.

Laura frowned. The clipped voice belonged to one of the evening supervisors. What was Edith doing here? How often did someone from administration socialize with staff nurses? The older woman sat next to the young blonde who had just completed her month long orientation.

“Something should be done," someone said.

Laura scanned her companions. Who had spoken? “What can we do?” Her question joined the chorus.

“There’s more.” The supervisor moved the globed candle closer. For an instant the flickering flame changed her round smiling face into a grotesque mask. “Only a doctor can determine if another doctor is incompetent.”

“Wrong,” the strange nurse said. “Nurses can act>”

“Not true,” someone said.

“Sure.” Skepticism colored the speaker’s voice. “We all know how they avoid and close their ranks around the incompetent. They’re afraid of what they might find.”

“And if any of the doctors agree with us. Their afraid of what they might find.”

“So what can we do?” Laura’s question halted the buzz of conversation.

“Nothing,” their sole male said. “Look at what happened to Alice when she complained about Blunder Doc. She lost her job. While this isn’t a fun job, it pays the bills.”

A second woman slapped the table. “He’s right. The doctors will continue with business as usual.”

How right they were. Laura drew a deep breath. For at least twenty years Dr. John Moore had been a sloppy surgeon. Her nails bit into her palms. The infection he has caused when he’s operated on her mother had caused her death. Laura had been forced to face her teenage years motherless. How many times had a similar scenario been repeated because of him?

The stranger nurse rested her elbows on the table. “Who says we must work alone. I’ll tell you what the nurses at the last hospital where I worked did. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “They formed a committee.”

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