FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 5:

"Ah, of course. You're probably quite busy." He looked behind him, distracted by something that sounded like a printer as Simon stood. "We won't take up any more of your time."

"I very much appreciated the chance to speak with you, Donna," Simon said as he approached me. "Please, take this."

"A... a business card?" It was hardly a ridiculous thing, but my mind was entirely somewhere else at the time. I accepted the card and shook their hands.

"The card has my_... revised_ serial number," Simon advised me. "You may use it to contact me on the Commnet if you wish. I would very much like to hear from you again."

"Yes, of course. I... some other time then..."

"Well, we'd best be going. Goodbye, Donna," he said as he walked off. After they were some distance away, I heard him talking to his owner. "Would you mind walking on this side and alerting me to hazards? I find I am having some difficulty turning my head to the left..."

I slid the card intomy breast pocket as I wandered away like a zombie. I regretted leaving the cafeteria so abruptly, but I had all but forgotten about what I was waiting on. I was about to find out just how badly this whole mess had gone. I already knew that I had made a huge mistake. The guilt still ate at me. This wasn't even really about that though. This was about who was going to get punished and how. I was still holding out hope that it would be me; that Dr. Carter wouldn't suffer for helping me. For trusting me.

The conference room door was in front of me. Strange how short a trip can seem when one's mind is so thoroughly occupied. I held my ID badge up to the scanner on the door and it opened for me. I found myself at the side of a room thatwas much as I remembered it. Dr. Gavelle, the Chief of Medicine, sat with his two associates at a long table on a single-step dais in the front of the room. I'd never met the other two board members that were presiding over the Conference, and they didn't talk much when I was last here giving my statement. So I couldn't really draw a bead on either of them. Dr. Gavelle was another one of those "bald chic" men like Mr. Thompson. I saw the sunlight reflecting off his head as he listened intently to the current speakerat the stand in the center of the room.

Behind the witness' stand were two tables, left and right, at which sat the half-dozen or so people that had been directly involved in the case; the admitting nurse and his assigned shift nurse, the Radiologist, Dr. Strauss, and... the accused, Dr. Carter. The audiencewas arrayed behind them, in amphitheater-style risers that held more tables and chairs. There was quite a large crowd, the location had to be rescheduled because of it. The incline made them look much more intimidating, as if they were towering over me. 'Height equals power' kept buzzing through my head.

A lot of people were likely here because the rules surrounding me were often rather vague, and they were hoping that a Board ruling would get them some straight answers. Of course, it could just as easily be they had their own reasons for liking or disliking me and were rooting for one side or the other. Perhaps even a few that had a genuine interest in the case? Setting the place up like a courtroom certainly didn't help dispel the impression that the Conference was out for blood. Nor did the special addition, just for me - sitting in the far front corner of the dais, a bailiff in the form of a local animal control officer. His name was Drew and he was quitenew to the force, but he seemed to be a nice enough guy. I'm sure he had just as many reservations about being here as I did. Heck, he was in here the whole time because there was the possibility of the animal in question being called in again. He looked almost happy to see me, if only because I validated his presence there.

"The use of Vaxidril in this case was... ambitious." Dr. Strauss had the floor at the moment. "The diagnosis was as-yet unclear, and the use of such a potentially risky treatment would certainly have been better left for a time when we had more information and could proceed in a controlled manner."

Apparently that was the end of Dr. Strauss' statement, as he took his seat soon after.

"Do have a seat, Miss Morris," Dr. Gavelle said, gesturing to an unoccupiedchair at the left-hand table. I jumped a little at having him call me out like that. I got the impression that he had been aware of me for some time; he was just waiting for the proper moment so as not to interrupt Dr. Strauss.

"I'm... not here just to hear the Conference's decision?" I asked as I took my seat.

"Oh, certainly not," he said, looking to the doctor on his left. "Your being here was actually a point of order recently. Care to elaborate, Dr. Fine?"

"A simple question of interpretation," the curly-haired doctor in question said. "The rules barring Artificial Intelligences from attending were based on the precept of their containing recording devices. Since this is meant to educate those involved, we could hardly justify the exclusion of someone so... involved on any other grounds. You... you do contain no recording devices, correct?"

"The same ones you do, Doctor," I replied, "my ears and my brain."

"Well I'd say that our confidentiality is quite safe until we learn how to read and publish brainwaves, yes?"

"Hey," Dr. Gavelle cut in, "they're working on that downstairs, you know."

"It's a risk we'll have to take, Doctor. Can we trust you on this, Miss Morris?"

"Yes, Doctor," I said. "I assure you that I am not Commnet-enabled."

Well this wasn't so bad, I guess. They actually seem to be in kind of a good mood. And now that I'm here, I'll at least get to watch and have all the facts. It was nice of Dr. Fine to stick up for my right to be here like that. I felt a little better, but I still couldn't bring myself to look at Dr. Carter sitting a few seats down from me.

"Good, I'm glad that's settled," Dr. Gavelle said. "Now, Dr. Howard, I believe you had some questions for Dr. Ramstein?"

"Quite so," said the sullen, black-haired man to Dr. Gavelle's right. He patiently waited for his counterpart to step up to the front of the room.

"Doctor Ramstein, duty radiologist," the young man stated.

"Dr. Ramstein, what was your knowledge of the Nestor case?" Dr. Howard asked.

"I never saw the patient personally. In fact I only heard the name once. Dr. Carter consulted with me about him."

"And what came of this?"

"Dr. Carter explained the situation and said that the use of EKG monitoring alone didn't sit well with him," the Radiologist explained. "He said that he wished to pursue a more active means of diagnosis. He wanted to get Mr. Nestor in for a three-dimensional tomography scan."

"What kind?"

"Full abdominal."

"And this didn't seem at all peculiar to you?"

"I... I wasn't briefed on too many of the case's specifics." Dr. Ramstein was starting to sweat, I could smell it already. The way Dr. Howard was phrasing these questions was making him feel like he was under suspicion. "I wouldn't know what was unusual or not. I merely relayed my current schedule to Dr. Carter."

"So Dr. Carter did not relayto you any of his suspicions?" Dr. Fine asked.

"No. He said that the stress on the myocardium might be a symptom of something else, but he didn't say what. He seemed quite convinced of this, and I respect his opinion. I scheduled a 3-T scan for 2:30 PM. He asked for the earliest spot that I had open. The next I heard of the case was when the appointment was canceled, and then when I was called to appear here."

"Sounds pretty cut and dry to me," Dr. Gavelle concluded. "That'll be all. Anyone else you'd like to call up for merely recognizing Mr. Nestor's name, Dr. Howard?"

"I am simply being thorough," Dr. Howard snapped. "We've little else to do until those autopsy results come in, and for some reason you won't let us simply recess until they do."

"You know very well my reason. I can't stop the rumor mill from turning, but I can at least slow it down. Allowing everyone to run off and gossip about an incomplete investigation would contaminate everyone's perceptions. It would be the biggest possible detriment to our efforts to uncover the truth of this matter."

"Which would be much easier if we had a cause of death..."

"The results will be here soon. I'm sure that-" he was interrupted by the door swinging open. "Ah! Good afternoon, Doctor Jones. Your ears must've been burning."

"Few extend such a warm greeting towards a coroner, Doctor Gavelle," said the aged, but spry medical examiner as he strode into the room carrying a datapad.

"Well, as you can see by the way everyone in the audience that was dozing off just suddenly sat up, we've been anxiously waiting on these results for some time."

"Yes, there were a few surprises that came up and, given the nature of the case, we wanted to be sure of our conclusions."

"Working a high-profile autopsy all day to get everything _just_so..." Dr. Gavelle commented. "Just another typical day in the morgue,huh?"

"No, it's been better than most..." Dr. Jones replied.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, Doctor," Dr. Howard said. "Take the stand and geton with it."

"All right, all right, give me a minute," he said, pulling up the report on his datapad. "The myocardium was found to be thick and strong, with no signs of perforation. All heart valves were of normal disposition. There was clear evidence of right ventricular dysfunction, explaining the observed isolated systolic hypertension, but no evidence of the underlying cause within the heart itself. When we severed the pulmonary artery to remove the heart, a large blood clot was found to be entirely blocking it."

This sent a few whispers through the crowd. A clot? So this wasn't just cardiac arrest...

"Further investigation led to the conclusion that the clot formed in the deep leg veins and embolized into the blood stream during a recent orbital shuttle flight. Subsequent obstructions led to the reported symptoms."

Of course! How could I not think of that? Everyone knows that micro-gravity can metastasize deep-vein blood clots. I'm so stupid!

"And so, your conclusion?" Dr. Gavelle asked.

"Mr. Nestor's cause of death was cardiac arrest brought on by sudden pulmonary embolism."

"And now the real question," Dr. Howard began, "what was the effect of the infusion of 15 CCs of Vaxidril immediately before Mr. Nestor's death?"

Dr. Howard's tone was accusatory. I could tell that even over the sound of the blood pounding in my ears. Well, I certainly don't have an arrhythmia... I guess Dr. Jones was prepared for this though, as he delivered a very calm and matter-of-fact answer.

"While the patient did have significant deep-vein thrombosis, this was not the immediate cause of the life-threatening symptoms. Vaxidril is a good preliminary anti-thrombotic agent, but it does nothing to dissolve existing blood clots, particularly those that have already migrated from their point of origin, and as such would have done nothing to avert embolism. However, I can say with some certainty that its use in no way contributed to the ultimate cause of death."

"Interesting... thank you, Dr. Jones. Please have a seat," Dr. Gavelle said. "Dr. Ramstein, your take?"

"We missed it by a hair," he said. "Had he survived to make his appointment, the 3-T scan would've easily identified the ventricular dysfunction, if not also the embolism itself. We would've been able to start him on more specialized anticoagulants immediately and dissolve it."

"Dr. Carter, how long was Mr. Nestor in the hospital for?"

Dr. Carter slowly stood. He looked fine, but I knew him. I could tell that this had been weighing on his mind. It hurt me to see what all this was doing to him. He gave a flat, factual account; sort of the way I do when I'm under orders to provide information.

"The admitting nurse recorded his arrival as 9:35 AM yesterday," he stated. "My first consultation with him was at 10:15, and I returned to administer the Vaxidril at noon."

"Fifty-two minutes before his death," Dr. Howard added.

"That is the timeframe, yes."

Dr. Carter had said the part about the Vaxidril as if it were of no consequence. Of course Dr. Howard wasn't going to let that go unchallenged. I was really starting to dislike his attitude.

"Three hours and seventeen minutes..." Dr. Fine said. "That's the time we had to admit, diagnose, and treat him with. Tough spot to be in."

"Indeed," Dr. Gavelle agreed. "Dr. Strauss, your thoughts?"

"In light of this, it would certainly appear that I... underestimated the severity of Mr. Nestor's condition. However I stand by my decision. Acting without further information would have been foolhardy. Nearly all cardiac treatments involve some level of chemical shock to the blood. We can't risk upsetting a system in such a delicate state by initiating the wrong treatment regimen. It's very rare for a condition that presents in this manner to suddenly worsen without cause. But of course... that's not to say it is impossible."

"An excellent point, Doctor," Dr. Gavelle said, before turning off his microphone and having a quick huddle with his associates in hushed tones that I could easily hear.

Their words weren't nearly as accusatory as they were before. They sounded positively mundane in fact. Administrative measures, procedural changes, legal matters... the actual case at hand seemed an afterthought. It wasn't long before Dr. Gavelle addressed the Conference again.

"This board rules that no attending physician in Dr. Carter's position could've been reasonably expected to correctly diagnose and treat Mr. Nestor's condition in the time available. Dr. Carter's treatment methodology was sound, and no personal fault of negligence or lack of due diligence can be found with the medical staff involved. Mr. Nestor's death was a tragic, but unavoidable loss."

I don't like sitting on my tail. Particularly when it's wriggling excitedly like this, but I had to maintain some sense of decorum, even if I felt like jumping through the ceiling. It wasn't our fault! Dr. Carter was going to be okay! I could barely focus on the rest of Dr. Gavelle's boring summation through my own giddy excitement.

"...to ensure that admitting nurses will take greater care in the assessment of cardiac risks, particularly in terms of background checks and medical histories. A detailed list of all aviation and recent spaceflight will be made part of the cardiac risk-factor questionnaire and the medical history workup. Knowing about that shuttle flight sooner might've saved Mr. Nestor. Other procedural changes will appear in later write-ups and will be promulgated as necessary. Now onto the other, more serious issue..."

Other... issue? My tail stiffened, along with the rest of my body.

"What I found most distressing about this case only came to light after the investigation was underway, and questions about the particulars of those involved started getting asked."

No... no, no, no!

"I am of course, referring to the matter of Dr. Carter's... rather distressing reliance on unsound sources of medical advice."

My heart stopped for a moment. Literally, my heart stopped beating. I'd read about what that feels like. I've told patients to watch for the symptoms dozens of times, but now I knew exactly what it felt like. I realized why that look of blinding, abject terror stuck on someone's face when they were conscious in cardiac arrest. I gasped, nearly choking on my tongue as I brought a shaking hand to my mouth in an effort to keep quiet. My breath whistled through the fur on my knuckles. No, it couldn't be... we didn't do anything wrong, it wasn't our fault!

"Donna Morris, would you please take the stand?"

My entire body seized as I looked up at Dr. Gavelle. I looked down when I tasted blood and unclenched my jaws. Two small punctures from my fangs in the side of my finger. They'd stop bleeding quickly enough, puncture wounds are like that. I'll have to rinse these so they don't get septic and remember not to lick. I wonder if I still have my styptic pen...

"Miss Morris?"

What? Dr. Gavelle! The Conference! I can't! No... I'm gonna faint, gonna faint...

Even as the edges of my vision blurred out I found myself lurching awkwardly to my feet. The Jackal was nipping at my legs, nudging me forward. Of course... That was a direct order from the Chief of Medicine. No way was I going to get out of this for a little thing like having a massive panic attack and passing out. I was trying as hard as I could to be extremely interested in the grain of the rounded wooden trim of the institutional beige Formica table on the dais in front of me as I felt all the eyes in the room on me.

No good. Dr. Gavelle was waiting for me to look at him. I gritted my teeth and gripped the stand's railing as I looked him in the eyes. All the while my body was screaming 'No, no! Don't look him in the eyes! Down! Lay down! Roll on your back! Show him your belly and say you're sorry!'

"It would appear that protocol binds my hands here, Miss Morris," Dr. Gavelle said in an easy tone, he seemed to be the only one taking any note of my distress. "I would much prefer to administer an oath, but regulations dictate that I must order you to tell the truth. Is that alright?"

"I... y-yes Doctor," I squeaked, I could already feel the Jackal on my back weighing me down, constricting me. "I understand."

"Good. Donna Morris, I,as the hospital's highest direct-order authority appointed by Ecosystems Unlimited, order you to respond to all questions asked within this Conference truthfully, accurately, and to the fullest extent of your knowledge. Do you understand?"

"Y-ye... rrk!" Jackal! You have to ease up on my throat so I can talk!

My breath came easier as the pressure let up. "Yes, Doctor."

"Good. Now there are a few things that I'd like to hear from you. It was very obvious that Dr. Carter wanted to keep you from being involved in this. He's never given me cause to question his integrity before, but he went to great lengths to protect you, and I want to be very certain about the facts of this matter."

"Doctor, I-"

"I'm sure that you have much to say, but for now, speak only when you are spoken to, okay?"

NO! No it's not okay! He's a good Doctor, I'm a bad dog! That's all there is to it. Stop making it his fault! It's not his fault...

None of those words made it to the air. My lip quivered as I stood silently, the Jackal tightening my jaw, reminding me how foolish it would be to risk defying that order. What was I to gain anyway? Answer the questions...

"Now, whose idea was it to administer Vaxidril to Mr. Nestor?" Dr. Gavelle asked.

"It... was my idea. I told Dr. Carter that I thought Vaxidril would help."

"And no physician or qualified staff member advocated this?"

"No. No one ever mentioned Vaxidril to me in the context of this case."

"What made you think that Vaxidril would help?" he asked, as though this was just idle curiosity on his part.

"Well, I..." I couldn't figure out where he was going with this, suddenly this was about me? That was good news, right? I didn't have any more time to think as I soon found words spilling out of my mouth again. "I listened to his heart."

"-with a sonogram." Dr. Fine inserted.

"No, with my ear." The way I winced at the word 'sonogram' probably didn't make me look any more confident.

"And what did you hear?" Dr. Gavelle asked, getting back on point.

"You want me to describe the sound? You know, it's kind of a swooshing-"

"Describe it in diagnostic terms, if you please," said the ever-impatient Dr. Howard.

Not my fault, jerk. Stupid orders make me say stupid things. If I were allowed to actually talk- ah... Nipped by theJackal, back to the question.

"There was a counter-rhythm that I attributed to a prolapsed mitral valve. There were eddies outside the normal ventral flow that I couldn't explain any other way, and the systolic beat was longer than it should be."

My explanation seemed to fascinate Dr. Fine. After a pause, he looked up tothe table of 'persons of interest'. "Dr. Strauss. You did a sonogram, correct?"

"Yes," came the reply.

"And the results?"

"No prolapsed valves, but the rhythm I observed was... remarkably similar to what Miss Morris described."

The board members exchanged a glance. This sort of thing was nothing new to me. When you corner the docs and really press them, they will at some point grudgingly acknowledge my effectiveness. Apparently this was news to the board, though.

Dr. Gavelle turned back to me. "What was your reaction when you learned that it was not a prolapsed valve?"

"I was still suspicious. Dr. Strauss pointed the finger at recurrent stress-related palpitations, but I didn't like that explanation. The left ventricle was overwrought, and the isolation of that strain to only one chamber meant that it wasn't part of a stress or adrenaline response. The sinews of his mitral valves were heavily stressed on the systolic beat. Now that I knew the valves were working normally, I concluded that the left ventricle was pumping to an extraordinarily high pressure. The ability to do that meant that he still had a strong, functional myocardium. That, plus the healthy valves and lack of coronary obstruction meant that there was probably nothing wrong with the heart itself at all."

"Wha... back up a second," Dr. Fine interrupted. "You could hear the sounds that his mitral valves made when they were closed?"

"Yeah... I mean, I have to listen close, but-"

"Is that even possible? Dr. Strauss!"

"Well, uh..." It was becoming clear that Dr. Strauss was getting a bit flustered by being called out like this all the time. "Not with any equipment that I'm familiar with, but Mr. Nestor did have some very significant isolated systolic hypertension. That would put his mitral valves under extraordinary strain when closed. It is at least... conceivable that some detectable amount of valve vibration might occur in the course of the systolic beat."

"Okay..." Dr. Fine sighed, "Let's say for a moment that I believe that. Your conclusion, Miss Morris?"

"This was a healthy heart," I said. "The long, high-pressure systolic beat meant that the stressing factor was somewhere else in the bloodstream." I heard... scratching on paper, tapping datapads. People were... taking notes? Nipping again! Right, right. Answer the question. "In order for the pressure difference to be this significant, it would have to be an obstruction of a major artery. Since all his coronary arteries had spent the day under a microscope and he didn't display any neurological symptoms associated with excess blood pressure or artery blockage in the brain, that meant it would have to be the major veins in his legs."

"Deep-vein thrombosis..." said Dr. Fine, still not appearing to entirely believe what he was saying.

"Yes. I recommended Vaxidril because it has been proven highly and rapidly effective in the treatment of deep-vein thrombosis." I tried to stop, but my ear twitched as if I was hearing a distant echo... 'to the fullest extent of your knowledge...' "A-and because... I believed that he may not have had as much time left as we thought."

"And..." Dr. Gavelle prompted.

"'And' nothing! That was my suggestion and it didn't work. I was wrong."

"'Didn't work' perhaps, but 'wrong'? Certainly not," Dr. Fine assured me. "You're the only person other than Dr. Jones to even use the term_deep-vein thrombosis, which Mr. Nestor most certainly _had, and that was the ultimate source of the embolism that killed him! Any other day a fast-acting anti-thrombotic like Vaxidril might've been the decisive action that saved his life. You had a bad break, Miss Morris."

What? It wasn't my fault either? My jumping for joy was interrupted by another uncomfortable squeeze by theJackal; making me spit out the _one_doubt that came to my mind.

"So, even if I do everything exactly right... he dies anyway?" Damn this truth order! I wanna shut up now...

"That is the reality of medicine," Dr. Gavelle said, with a long pause before he moved on. "Still, this doesn't change the fact that as an unaccredited volunteer, you have no business advising physicians on courses of treatment."

Well, there it goes then. All than enthusiasm and praise just tossed out, because I'm still just a helper dog...

"However, I daresay that no one would be dubious of a doctor taking treatment advice from a nurse. That's rather the point of having medical professionals that are a bit closer to the patient. You applied to become a nurse, did you not?"

"I did..."

"Some time ago?" he asked.

"Almost ten weeks." Thank you for rubbing my nose in this, Doctor.

"Extraordinarily long processing time, wouldn't you say?"

Processing? I... hadn't been rejected yet?

"I was... told that such delays weren't unheard of." I knew it was a lie,_but what was I going to do about it? I had to bite back those words to stop them from coming out. '_the fullest extent of your knowledge...' No! I don't have to say that. That is Donna Morris' opinion. It is not a fact! Miracle of miracles, the Jackal let up. Maybe I'll get through this with my sanity intact after all.

"I took the liberty of looking into that for you." Dr. Gavelle produced a folder from his briefcase and slid it down the table for his colleagues to inspect. "It seems that it got hung up somewhere in the pipeline. Funny how a personal inquiry by the Chief of Medicine tends to grease the wheels of even the most troublesome administrative processes. You've had quite a time of this, it seems... I have to ask, what motivated you to want to become a nurse so badly?"

"In some ways, it's all I know," I said, relieved that the Jackal was offering me some leeway since this was a complicated question. "I was my owner's therapy dog all my life, and I spent a lot of time in this hospital. I practically grew up here. My first word was 'doctor'. And not a moment too soon I might add. That's how I got that citation you're holding, Dr. Fine."

"Indeed..." Dr. Fine looked up from my file. "I was wondering how you ended up with a Special EMS Recognition Award. I didn't know that they gave these to animals."

"The award is given to non-EMTs that render services instrumental to lifesaving efforts. Nowhere does it specify that they have to be human."

"Yes, I can read the certificate. 'Vital to the emergency medical treatment of one Mr. Andrew Simmons'. How exactly did this come about?"

"I was very young at the time, five I think. I only knew a handful of words, and I was actually quite slow to learn more. I knew my name, my owner's name, I knew 'good dog, bad dog', and of course I learned 'doctor' from hearing it all the time. Sometimes it was tough to keep track of me when my owner was here for checkups or therapy. The patients loved getting visits from me though, so I was given a collar transponder that would make sure I didn't get outside or into the ER or anything, that way I could wander around and visit as I pleased, and I wouldn't be too hard to find.

"I was in the room of a child that had had a severe reaction to an infection from some spores in his lungs. The infection wasn't too bad, but an allergic reaction had resulted in severe swelling in his airways. He was still unconscious, but his father was there visiting. So I stopped in to greet him. He didn't seem interested in me, he just sat there in the chair by the bed, so I was about to leave. He grabbed at my leg as I was walking away. I growled at him, but then I noticed how sweaty his palms were. He made a pained face, but not a sound. He couldn't breathe. He released me as he collapsed on the floor.

"I had heard people call out 'Doctor' when someone was in trouble, and so that's what I did. I ran out in the hall barking and calling out 'Doctor! Doctor!' Fortunately, if there's one thing talking dogs are good at, it's getting attention. It wasn't long before I got someone to follow me and led them back to the room. I got pushed out of the way a lot, and then there was a bunch of shouting and noise as the trauma team got there. I got scared and hid under a couch in the waiting room.

"Edward had a lot of trouble coaxing me out of there later. I was so afraid I had done something wrong. I just whined: 'bad dog, bad dog...' until he carried me out of there. He took me to Mr. Simmons' room. He couldn't talk because of the ventilator, but he seemed excited when I came in. He started to cry while he was rubbing my head. I cowered away because I didn't understand happy-crying. He hugged me close to him and I figured it out a little better.

"It turned out that the severe sensitivity to those spores was genetic, and the same condition that afflicted his son had flared up suddenly in Mr. Simmons. It came on so fast that he had stopped breathing before he could call for help. His back was to the door, so the way he was sitting in the chair he looked okay. His son was perfectly stable, so no one would've had any reason to go in that room if I hadn't made a fuss about it. He very easily could've died.

"The hospital chairman got a surprise when he was putting the medal on my collar. He told me I was a good dog. I nuzzled his hand and said 'good dog!' right back."

"Hmph, right place at the right time," Dr. Howard scoffed.

"Sometimes that's all it takes..." Dr. Gavelle replied. "So, this is what made you interested in medicine?"

"It... got me started." I was beginning to wonder why he was so hung up on this. Wasn't the Conference more important? I didn't get to wonder for long. The Jackal prompted me to start spitting out my life's story again. "From then on when I was visiting with people, I would investigate them. Sniffing, watching, licking, none of it looked out of the ordinary, but it wasn't long before I was in the waiting room at pediatrics, nosing at a child's feet and following him around. His mother was obviously a bit surprised when she came to get her son and the therapy dog he'd been playing with looked up and said 'doctor'.

"Of course she asked about this, and given my history, they took a closer look at his feet. It turned out he had developed a fungal infection from playing in the mud without shoes on. I found something that was wrong, that meant I was a good dog. I was slow to learn more words, but I got such high praise for how I used 'Doctor' that it became my new toy. When I was right about there being a problem, I was a good dog. When I was wrong, I was a bad dog. Even if they already knew what the problem was, if I was right that meant I still did good.

"It was a cute game, and most people treated it as such, but whether they realized it or not, the staff here was training me to identify sick people and get help for them. That was how I started learning about medicine. Even at such a young age,I was learning all about the ethics of medical practice. The word that I knew had power, and there were consequences for abusing that power. I'll never forget the scolding I got for sitting down next to my empty food bowl and saying 'doctor'. Well, I certainly thought it was a crisis..."

I heard a few people laugh, and Dr. Gavelle smiled. At least I was keeping everyone entertained. That made me a little more comfortable about the forced word-vomit I was having in front of everyone.

"I learned the process of diagnosis. How to use my senses to find problems, what information is significant and what isn't, what problems are worth reporting and what people need help the most. I learned about triage, too. If someone had an infection, you put a paw on it, 'doctor'. If someone is having trouble breathing you jump around and make a big fuss, 'Doctor! Doctor!' And... I learned about death." No, no don't make me say that part. I don't want to talk about that.

"Go on..." Doctor Gavelle prompted.

Gah! Yeah, I know. I have to do it now...

"There was one time... when I ended up in the morgue. The Medical Examiner heard me whining and came in. He found me there, nudging someone... that was on the slab. 'Doctor, doctor...' It... was someone I had met earlier in the week. I must've followed his scent there." I swallowed hard. There was no way I'd be making it through this if not for the Jackal pushing me. Not that I was grateful for his 'assistance'. "The M.E. was obviously a bit irate with me, coming in there, putting my paws all over a dead man like that. When he tried to chase me away I barked back at him, 'Doctor!' and stood my ground. He figured out what I was trying to do; told me I was a good dog... I got very upset when he tried to lead me away. It wasn't right. No one was helping him. No one was making him get better! They're... supposed to make him get better...

"I didn't understand what was wrong. I wouldn't leave him until I knew he would be okay. I was so confused and... I just couldn't- I... they had to turn me off." Thanks for bringing that memory back in such detail, Jackal. "I didn't have the words for it then, but I knew that something very bad had happened to him. It was something that the most powerful tool I had couldn't fix. Everything changed then. I wasn't just doing what I was trained to. I knew then that I wanted to do everything I could to stop that bad thing from happening to anyone else."

"Well," Dr. Gavelle began, "that is certainly... quite compelling."

"A real shame." All that deep sadness I had felt moments before blazed into anger the instant I heard Dr. Howard speak. "With these qualifications, accolades, glowing recommendations and your... unique skill set, you'd make a fine physician, perhaps even a cardiac specialist."

'A shame'? A shame that I wanted to be a nurse? What in the name of- I heard Officer Drew stand up. Oh, no. Many of these people can't read me too well, but he knows exactly what an agitated canine looks like. Keep it together, Donna.

"Well, you might," Dr. Howard said, surveying the contents of the folder, "were it that those fields were not barred from you of course."

I heard a sharp growl from the back of my mind. I think the Jackal was starting to hate this guy too. Of course I couldn't say anything; I was ordered not to. Drew is watching you, stop breathing so fast! No use getting mad. Deep breath in, slow breath out through the mouth... just like when Edward taught you how to blow bubbles. Slow, measured breath out... I got a prod from the Jackal as my indignation cooled. Dr. Howard did just speak to me, and I couldn't confront him specifically... unless he asked me a question, of course.

"I'm surprised at you, Doctor Howard," I ventured.

"How's that?" Which was a question...

"I would think that you of all people would understand that not all nurses are aspiring doctors."

"Why yes, of course. But wouldn't you jump at the opportunity for such a respected position as a GP or specialist?"

Hah! Got him again!

"Doctor Howard," I began, "I do not aspire to be a nurse simply because being a doctor is barred from me. I did not shoot for the Moon and miss. I am trying to become a nurse because I want to be a nurse."

I heard shuffling and small changes in posture all around the room as I spoke, I was certainly commanding some attention now.

"I like taking care of people; getting to know them, answering their questions, helping them to really understand_what's happening. I _like easing their pain and confusion; taking care of them and making them comfortable. And I like watching my patients get better and ushering them out the door when they're well again. I have no higher goal in my pursuit of medicine... and I would be grateful if you would not insinuate that on my part."

My finger had started bleeding again. Blood pressure must be up.

"As you wish." Dr. Howard responded. He seemed to be taking my words as a challenge. Which they were. This man had been making me miserable and trying to slander Dr. Carter for no reason that I could identify. I had long ago reached my limit of tolerance for him.

"It sounds as though your priorities are in order, Miss Morris." The much more even-tempered voice of Dr. Fine got me to stop giving dagger-eyes to his contemporary. "It's actually quite fortunate that we came into possession of your file at this time. The authority needed to induct a non-human into the medical staff would necessitate a unanimous decision by the Hospital Board of Directors, whom you see conveniently arrayed before you."

Inducted... into the staff? They're actually_considering_ me? Oh, oh no! I can't screw this up, not after I worked so hard. Maybe I should try to make nice with Dr. Howard. Nope, the Jackal just tried to bite me for that. And the thought of treating him with anything other than utter contempt made me start to puke a little. I'll try again later.

"So I'll ask you," Dr. Fine continued, "do you still wish to submit this application to the Board?"

"Yes! Yes, absolutely!" My tail flapped noisily against my baggy scrub top, but I paid it no mind.

"Really?" My blood boiled again at the sound of a single word from the other end of the table. "So soon?"

"S-so... soon?" I said in a strained voice. Deep breath, just talk. Talking keeps me from growling. I have to be a good dog. I have to make a good impression. Not a good time to weigh pros and cons of eating board members.

"So soon after this incident, I mean," he said. "You realize this sort of thing can and will happen again, and you might not be found innocent of any wrongdoing next time."

"I am... aware of that possibility. Doctor." Of course I'm aware! What do you think I've been completely freaking out about for the last day and a half! The Jackal snarled viciously, seeming to have momentarily forgotten to police me in his state. It was only another split second before I felt one more little 'be good' nudge. It felt like he agreed with me though. Kind of like a compromise. 'Killing is wrong, but I still really want that man dead.' I had to admit that wanting someone dead was not against the rules.

"It's your enthusiasm that distresses me," he coldly stated. "It doesn't seem as though this has really affected you."

My hands shook on the railing. I didn't ball them into fists, that's aggressive. Of course I was never in the habit of making fists. I was more in the habit of pinning someone down and crushing their larynx between my- Killing is wrong. It's wrong and I shouldn't do that. Even if I haven't eaten in awhile and Dr. Howard probably tastes really- No. No violence. I promise. Be good. Use words...

"I... assure you, Doctor, t-that-"

"No apology, no remorse. Doesn't sound like a compassionate nurse to me. Do you even regret what happened?"

-That was a question! Truth time, go! Let him have it!-

I... can't. He's still on the Board, I... I could ruin everything...

-He's WRONG! Tell him he's wrong! GAH!-

"Doctor... I..." I panted.

"It seems to me, that-"

"HOW DARE YOU?" I shouted, startling everyone in the room, including me. "How dare you even ACT like that's a reasonable question! You would never even think to ask that of anyone but me! What is it? I don't value human life because I'm not human myself? Without humanity, I would not even exist. Without humanity, I would not be half the person that I am.

"It. Is. My. JOB. To ease pain and suffering. To get to know the patients and their families to find out EXACTLY how they feel! You don't think that makes a difference? You don't think it hurts me to watch someone die and then see their loved ones all have the hope and affection that they had for their parent, or brother or husband suddenly torn apart right before my eyes?"

"Miss Morris-"

"SHUT UP, DREW!"

The startled officer cringed back into the corner.

"I will live with this guilt for the rest of my career, for the rest of my existence!_My actions, wise or not, ended in the untimely death of one of my patients." I paused to lick the spittle off my jowls, it was starting to scatter. I made my first concerted effort to measure my tone. "But... I would regret it even more, if it were my _in_action that led to a patient's death. And nothing, but _nothing, would bring me greater despair than to abandon all I have achieved, all that I might achieve, because of a single mistake.

"I can't allow myself to get scared; to shirk the sacred duty that I vowed to take upon myself, just because I... I hurt someone I meant to care for. Someone so... im-import-" My voice cracked and I gasped for breath. My vision had blurred so much I could barely keep my eyes open. There was that prickly, burning sensation creeping up my muzzle. My God... who was I really talking about here? I felt the muscles in my cheeks tighten... No, no not now. Not now! "I failed. I destroyed a life... that it was my job to save. But I will not let that stop me. I can not let that stop me. Whatever happens to that application now, whatever happens to me, ever... it doesn't matter. So long as I am able, I_will_ keep healing people. Any way I can."

I tried to collect myself. As much as a wolf can collect herself when she's just spent the last minute or two screaming at her colleagues at the top of her lungs, and maybe half that time trying to stop herself from falling to the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. You can never really get completely composed when there's a man in the corner, nervously leveling a tranquilizer gun at you. That moron, I know he has a remote. You know, the thing that can instantly render me unconscious without impact trauma and inherent risk of death?

The Jackal had collapsed into a heap, exhausted from cheering for me the entire time. I'm sure that my neurotransmitter profile looked like a Jackson Pollack painting by that time. Nearly everyone in the audience was on their feet. Excitement, anger, banking on fleeing for their lives in a panicked flash mob; I didn't know what was on their minds, but I had heard them stand. There were footsteps approaching from behind me.

"Sit down, Doctor Carter," Dr. Gavelle ordered. I heard him return to his seat after a moment.

"Well," said a thoroughly overwhelmed Dr. Howard, "... good."

Wait... Good?

"That'll be all for me," he said in a suddenly congenial tone. "Anything, Dr. Fine?"

"Those sure sounded like closing remarks to me. I'm satisfied, Dr. Gavelle?"

"Quite. Thoroughly. Impressed." He stated, opening his briefcase again. "This will go down on record as your oral interview, Miss Morris."

"O-oral... in-nervew?" I was surprised that my voice still worked.Well, mostly.

"For your certification as a registered nurse at Saint Ares General Hospital." Awkwardly stretching over the table, he handed me a document in a thin wooden picture frame, proudly displaying an embossed certificate that said just that. "Congratulations, Nurse Morris."

There was utter silence, during which my rasping breath started to fog the frame'sglass in front of me, prompting me to pull my head backfrom the surface of the picture frame. The smell of the oiled black walnut frame filled my nose. Yep, it was real. I didn't dream getting it. One man started to clap, and so did everyone else in attendance as they slowly wrapped their minds around what just happened. I couldn't blame them for taking a minute. I still certainly hadn't wrapped my mind around it. Dr. Gavelle spoke again once the noise died down.

"So, anything to say for yourself on this momentous occasion?"

"Muwh... guh?" I was wrong. My voice no longer worked.

"Outstanding. Glad that's settled. Conference adjourned!"

There was a large general din as everyone hurriedly made for the exits, all anxious to be finished with the Conference. Or to be away from the neurotic wild animal that just belligerently freaked out all over everyone. There was still that dumbfounded wolf staring back at me in the glass covering my certificate. I didn't even notice Officer Drew standing in front of me until he started rubbing my head.

"It's okay, Donna. I understand," he said. "You're a good dog."

"Uh, uh huh... g-guddah... guh..." I nodded with my mouth slightly open. Highly sophisticated tasks like forming words were still quite beyond the capabilities of the stringy mass of inert sludge that was currently where my brain should be.

The space in front of me was soon filled by Dr. Carter. I could barely even manage an excited squeak when I smelled that it was him. My gaze still drifted aimlessly.

"You did a good job, Donna," he said. "I'm so proud of you."

He grabbed the frame as it slid through my trembling fingers.

"Whoa! Careful, now," he said as he placed it nearby on the table. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to that after all you went through to get it."

It took a moment before I figured out that I was just staring at my empty hands, having no idea what to do with myself.

"I couldn't have asked for a better outcome," he continued. "You know, we should really... are you all right, Nurse Morris?"

"Nuh-N-urse Morris!" I stammered, my brain finally jarring loose from the spot it had gotten stuck in. "I'M NURSE MORRIS!"

"Yes, you're Nur-urf!"

Dr. Carter staggered backwards as I leapt over the stand's railing, throwing myselfat him, wrapping my arms around his neck and shamelessly licking his face all over. He bore it with the truly infinite patience of anyone that owns and loves an excitable dog.

"Yes, urgh, I'm glad you're-eerg, excited too- AGH!"

He winced and jerked his head when I accidentally licked his eyeball. It suddenly occurred to me what a fool I was being and I backed off a little bit, settling for squeezing him until I could hear the pressure change in his jugular vein. I slid back to the floor and we had a proper hug with my paws actually on the ground. I trembled with excitement as I soaked up his whispered praise. 'Good dog, Donna. You did such a good job... You're a good dog...' I had a little stethoscope-shaped impression on my chest by the time we let go of each other.

Once I had finally calmed down a little bit, we headed for the door together. We met Nurse Barnes just outside.

"Ah, I just heard the news," she said, as though 'the news' were nothing out of the ordinary. "Sounds like you did us proud in there. Congratulations, Nurse Morris."

"Thank you!" YES! She called me Nurse Morris! My tail was doing that thing where it just whips around in a circle because I can't possibly wag it fast enough. "How did you hear already? It's been like... thirty seconds."

"News at the speed of gossip, dear. Are you alright, Dr. Carter?"

I was embarrassed when I looked at Dr. Carter's slickened face. He was rubbing his eye and trying to manage his cowlicked hair.

"Yes, quite alright,thanks," he responded. "Nurse Morris just happened to stick her tongue in my eye at an inopportune time."

"Ah, I see. Well, she should know that I will not tolerate that sort of fraternization among my nurses."

"Yes! Of course, Nurse Barnes!" I'm one of her nurses! I'm in the pack! Weeheheheee!

"You'll be part of shift four, Nurse Morris," she said, handing me her datapad. "If I could get you to electronically sign for your duty assignment..."

My eyes widened as I looked at the roster. Eight patients? How was I going to- Huh? A scrollbar? FIFTEEN PATIENTS?

"N-nurse Barnes... I-" I looked closer at the datapad and the badge on my shirt accidentally touched the reader. The datapad flashed a confirmation message and suddenly flew from my hands.

"Welcome aboard! I look forward to working with you!" she said as she whirled off into oblivion.

"I... but, w-whu... uh, y-yay?"

"Welcome to nursing, Donna. Isn't it grand?"

I gave a keening little whine.

"Come on, we should celebrate. I'll buy you lunch... dinner, uh," he looked at his watch. "Umm... food."

"I'm too excited to be hungry right now, but I guess I could tag along."

"Good to hear. I was worried that you'd be a little wrung out after... all that."

"Oh, certainly not!" I said, confidently. "I feel fine. I mean, my mouth is kinda dry and I can't seem to stop shaking and I'm feeling pretty tired all of a sudden and... and I'm a little dizzy now that the adrenaline is wearing off though..."

"Well that's to be expected."

"And yeah, now I'm a little lightheaded and my stomach is kinda achy. My arms feel all tingly and these... there are these little dark spots around my eyes..."

"Nurse Morris..." We had stopped walking and I found myself leaning on him a little, nothing to be worried about though.

"Heh... Nurse Morris..." I giggled, not really caring that my paws didn't seem to be holding me up anymore. "S-say it again! Ehehehee..."

"Donna? Donna!"