Toxin by Robin Cook Page B

great,” Kim added. He straightened up. “Well, as far as I’m concerned you can start training for the Boston Marathon.”
    â€œI don’t think that’s in my future,” Phil joked. “But come spring I’ll certainly be out on the links.”
    Kim gave the man a pat on the shoulder and then shook his hand. “Enjoy yourself,” he said. “But remember to maintain the change we’ve made in your lifestyle.”
    â€œDon’t worry about that,” Phil said. “I read all the material you sent home with me. And I’ve taken it to heart. No more smoking for this fellow.”
    â€œAnd don’t forget the diet and exercise,” Kim added.
    â€œDon’t worry,” Phil said. “I don’t want to go through this again.”
    â€œNow, it wasn’t that bad,” Kim joked.
    â€œNo, but it was scary,” Phil said.
    Kim gave Phil another pat on the back, jotted a quick note on the chart, and left the examination room. He stepped across the hall to examine room B but noticed there was no waiting chart in the rack on the door.
    â€œMr. Norton was the last patient,” Cheryl said from behind Kim.
    Kim turned around and smiled at his office nurse. He ran a tired hand through his tussled hair. “Good,” Kim said. “What time is it?”
    â€œIt’s after seven,” Cheryl said.
    â€œThanks for staying,” Kim said.
    â€œYou’re welcome,” Cheryl said.
    â€œI hope this chronic overtime doesn’t cause you any trouble at home,” Kim said.
    â€œIt’s not a problem,” Cheryl said. “I’m getting used to it and so is my husband. He knows now to pick my son up from day care.”
    Kim reversed direction and went into his private office. He collapsed into his desk chair and eyed the stack of phone messages he’d have to respond to before leaving. He rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted yet on edge. As per usual the stresses of the day had accumulated. He would have loved to play some tennis, and he vaguely thought about stopping in at the athletic club on his way home. Maybe he could at least use a StairMaster.
    The door to his office opened and Ginger leaned in.
    â€œTracy just called,” she said with an edge to her voice.
    â€œWhat about?” Kim asked.
    â€œShe wouldn’t say,” Ginger reported. “All she said was to have you call.”
    â€œWhy are you upset?”
    Ginger exhaled and shifted her weight. “She’s just rude. I try to be nice and all. I even asked how Becky was.”
    â€œAnd what did she say?”
    â€œShe said just to have you call.”
    â€œOkay, thanks,” Kim said. He picked up the phone and started to dial.
    â€œI’m leaving for aerobics class,” Ginger said.
    With a wave, Kim acknowledged that he’d heard.
    â€œCall me later,” Ginger said.
    Kim nodded. Ginger left and closed the door behind her. Then Tracy answered.
    â€œWhat’s up?” Kim asked with no preamble.
    â€œBecky is worse,” Tracy said.
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œHer cramps are worse to the point of tears and there’s blood in her diarrhea.”
    â€œWhat color?” Kim asked.
    â€œFor chrissake, what do you mean what color?” Tracy demanded.
    â€œBright red or dark?” Kim asked.
    â€œChartreuse,” Tracy said impatiently.
    â€œI’m serious,” Kim said. “Bright red or dark red, almost brown?”
    â€œBright red,” Tracy said.
    â€œHow much?”
    â€œHow am I to tell?” Tracy responded irritably. “It’s blood, and it’s red, and it’s scary. Isn’t that enough?”
    â€œIt’s not so abnormal to have a little blood in diarrhea,” Kim said.
    â€œI don’t like it,” Tracy said.
    â€œWhat do you want to do?”
    â€œYou’re asking me?” Tracy questioned with disbelief. “Listen! You’re the doctor, not