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the administrator would be impressed with Mary, and therefore had made all the necessary arrangements for her to rent a furnished townhouse close to his, in the foothills of the Cheyenne Mountain. Then after she was formally hired they both realized her schedule was going to be extremely busy, so they agreed to routinely have brunch at the Hatch Cover on Sunday mornings. The Hatch Cover was a small but popular restaurant nestled picturesquely amongst the tall pine trees just down the street from where they lived. Each Sunday they sat where they could watch their favorite Scrub Jay peck at one of the many huge seed laden pinecones that lay on the ground just outside the restaurant’s window. Eventually they began to feel like this bird was a part of their Sunday ritual, as the glowing logs in the fireplace provided the warmth they both enjoyed in their recently rekindled relationship.

      “Doctor McGrath seems to do just as he pleases, and Mr. Bakencamp isn’t about to challenge him,” Mary said, sipping at her cup of hot green tea. “Bill, from where I sit, it appears this young man has the entire medical staff under his thumb, as well as my nursing staff, and I think it’s all because of the big bucks he and Hanes have brought into that hospital. They must be averaging a CS case a day at fifty thousand dollars a case - and you have to admit that’s quite impressive.”

      “You’ve got to be kidding,” Bill scowled. “At that price, they must all be making millions! No wonder no one wants to challenge them,” he growled, raising both eyebrows. “Have you had a chance to visit with any of the parents?”

      “I certainly have, and it seems like these two characters had frightened many of the parents into this surgery. I also found that not one of the parents was ever informed of the severe hemorrhaging or the long-range implications involved. It appears these guys have not only violated the patient’s right of informed consent, they may well have deceived the parents into believing their child would actually become retarded if they didn’t perform this miraculous procedure immediately. On the surface, it appears these two have no regard for any of our hospital standards or regulations at all. Bill, I’ve never seen anything like this,” she frowned, quickly swirling her spoon to scoop up a small tea leaf that had just floated to the surface. Then after finally looking up, her striking blue eyes appeared even more troubled.

      “I also know that Hanes hired McGrath right after he’d finished his residency, and then somehow persuaded this young inexperienced student to buy his practice,” she scowled - glancing over her shoulder to see that no one was listening. “Dollar wise, that had to be quite a windfall for this Young Turk just starting out in practice. And worse yet, I think he now believes he’s Jehovah, saving all these poor little infants. In fact, I could find no evidence he’d ever performed a single Total Calvarial Reconstruction before he was appointed to our hospital staff. And from all the information I’ve been able to gather, he’d only completed a general pediatric residency. Yet, during his first year in Colorado, he performed more than a hundred CS surgeries, without ever being properly supervised or even boarded in neurosurgery.”

      “So during this supposed epidemic, you’re telling me he wasn’t even boarded - is that right?”

      “Yes - I’m almost sure of that - and yet to talk to him, you’d think he’s the nation’s leading expert.”

      Bill’s eyes narrowed recognizing the impact this could have on any hospital.

      “What does Bakencamp say about all this? Is he even aware that the patient has the right to select a qualified surgeon, and at least consent to or decline any research procedure? Does he realize the patient’s family should also have any research procedure risks fully explained to them before they even attempt to obtain their consent?”

      “I asked him that, but he must’ve had his hearing aid turned off. He told me they are the leading hospital in the nation for this procedure, and it’s not research. He says every hospital in the country will soon be performing this same procedure, and I shouldn’t worry about it. When I asked him if this procedure was classified as routine, or if McGrath’s formal training in this procedure was documented, he just glared at me - In fact he didn’t even respond.”

      With that Bill threw his napkin on the table, pushing his plate away.

      “That gutless son-of-a-bitch is supposed to be responsible for affecting the mission of the hospital, and yet that untrained horse’s neck is using infants as guinea pigs, without telling the parents the facts - talk about deregulation!”

      “I know, but Bakencamp is not a Bill Warner - I guess you’ve spoiled me. I don’t think I’m going to last very long in his camp,” she smirked, curling the corner of her mouth disdainfully.

      “Bakencamp is the one who shouldn’t last very long,” Bill grumbled. “I just talked with the Health Department about all these abnormal skulls their seeing, and they say they’ve been concerned about this epidemic for some time now.”

      “That’s probably true,” Mary nodded. “Haven’t unusual shaped skulls been with us since ancient times? Tell me - just what’s a normal shaped skull?”

      Pausing a moment, Bill finally shook his head in disgust - “I can’t!”

      “Does the Public Health Department even know if the Colorado ratio of CS cases to population is the same as in other states?” Mary asked, already anticipating the answer.

      “No, they don’t,” Bill, explained as his finger tracked over his notes. “I looked that up and the average throughout the country runs at around three and a half cases for every ten thousand births. After McGrath arrived, the Colorado rate jumped to almost eight and a half, and then after he was there a while it peaked at fourteen and a half,” Bill explained, looking both concerned and confused as he thought about that - “So I guess it all changed about the same time McGrath arrived on the scene.”

      “Oh my God,” Mary shook her head in disgust. “I suppose Hanes had another mouth to feed, so they went out and created more patients.”

      Bill placed both hands behind his head, stretching back in his chair as if defeated. “God, I hope not,” he growled, glancing at Mary for only a moment. “Listen to what they say here. Colorado identified what they referred to as clusters of cases, occurring at various times in different locations throughout the state. For example, a cluster of several cases was reported in an area just north of Denver, and then that same year a cluster of ten more cases was found in a small area just to the west. I guess that’s when the state first launched their study. At the same time they also asked the Center for Disease Control to become involved, and the CDC agreed to conduct a comparative study to further investigate the problem. And for a while they even thought it might be the altitude. Anyway, the CDC initially considered it to be a full-scale epidemic, and since Colorado had no disease registry for CS it was almost impossible to even track the patients or the physicians, so that fourteen and a half percent ratio is totally an unreliable figure. In fact, they told me they were really starting from scratch.”

      “I’ve got to be honest with you, I feel the same way - as if I’m starting from scratch,” Mary frowned. “In fact, I’d never even heard of the problem until I came here, so I guess I’m really starting from scratch.”

      “Welcome to the club,” Bill replied, “you’re certainly not alone on that. The frightening thing is those CS figures continued to increase until the CDC finally opened it up to public scrutiny,” he explained, flipping past a few more pages. “Here’s where it really gets interesting. In their CS study, several neurosurgeons from both Atlanta and your hospital were asked to submit X-rays of their most recent cases, and an unbiased radiologist was asked to review the patients’ X-rays to determine if they met standard diagnostic criteria for the disease. The origin of each X-ray wasn’t revealed to the radiologist, and he reviewed over ninety-three percent of some six hundred cases, finding that two-thirds of McGrath and Hanes cases did not have CS, according to all known diagnostic criteria.”

      “So you’re telling me McGrath and Hanes misdiagnosed as much as sixty-six percent of their cases?”

      Bill nodded. “And what’s even worse is several other independent comparative studies confirmed the same thing. So as a result,

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