Hunting for Hippocrates. Warren J. Stucki
doing God’s work.
As a spin-off to his labor in the mission field, Rusty learned to love the church, and vowed to always remain active and true to his testimony. After returning from his mission, Rusty returned to BYU and resumed his studies. Majoring in zoology with a minor in chemistry, he eventually graduated summa cum lauda. It was during his last year at BYU that he applied and was easily accepted into medical school at University of Utah.
Just one month prior to graduation from BYU, Rusty married Faye, a woman he had dated intermittently since high school. Faye was a rather plain, domineering woman, who constantly tried to cover her homely features by lacquering on layers of make-up. Furthermore, it seemed she constantly wore loose, flowing clothing in a valiant effort to hide her steadily growing figure. But she did share Rusty’s religious and moral values, and though the sex was not great, the companionship was good. Through the years, they conceived and were still raising four children, two boys and two girls, all of whom Rusty was justifiably proud.
Following medical school, Rusty elected to stay at the U of U for his residency training in urology. His performance was above reproach. He was elected Chief Resident after just three years in the program, a position usually reserved for fifth-year residents. After completing the prescribed five years and passing his specialty boards, he had joined Dr. Moses Mathis in private practice. Rusty had considered staying in academic medicine, but in the end, he felt he was not particularly well-suited for the political games associated with academia, and without question, university physicians did not command the same salary as those in private practice.
Rusty excelled in private practice as well. Moe made him a full partner after only eight months. Of course, this early partnership was, in part, due to Faye’s constant nagging for more money, and eventually Moe capitulated. It seemed a little surprising now, but initially, he and Moe had not only been partners, but social friends as well. Their social and professional relationship had started to sour when Moe and Annie got a divorce. Moe had eventually started dating, as well as doing some drinking and was never really active in the church again. Not the kind of lifestyle Rusty and Faye wanted to be associated with, either socially or professionally.
However, it would be hard to leave St. George. Rusty had a busy practice, almost as busy as Moe’s. The kids were in school and they had made new friends. Uprooting them from St. George would be somewhat akin to trying to extract an 8mm stone from a ureter that was 2mm in diameter ureter. It could be done, but not easily. And Faye didn’t want to leave either. She had developed her own circle of friends. She was also a member of a couple of elite ladies’ social clubs and president of the Relief Society.
Rusty had considered breaking clean from Moe and establishing his own practice, and that was still an option, but he wasn’t entirely sure he could make it on his own, especially if he was in direct competition with Moe. No, in the final analysis, he really didn’t want to leave, though he knew they were again looking for a urologist in Ogden. His patience with Moe was definitely growing thin, but was this a good time to make a move? There had to be another way, a way he could have it all.
And to complicate his life further, there was Judy, an operating room nurse. God, was she pretty with lively brown eyes, a crooked mischievous smile and a flippant devil-may-care personality. They had been benignly flirting for several months, but lately, there had been more inadvertent touching, more long conversations and recently, a fairly harmless luncheon date.
Rusty knew Moe had been intermittently dating Judy for several months now, but that was part of the intrigue. And though he would never admit it, that was the reason, at least in part, why he was showing more interest in Judy lately. Anyway, Judy was better suited for him; Moe was just too old for her. It was irritating to see Moe trying to act down to her level, awkward, like a pimply, pubescence teenager. It would be a freezing day in hell before Moe could best him in the art of romance.
Regardless of that unspoken challenge, Judy was very sexy and fun to fantasize about, not at all like Faye. In fact, she had been on his mind so much lately she had almost become an addiction, an obsession. Just the thought of her nude, supple, young body next to him made him get hard. Kind of like that gorgeous, serpentine dancer at that strip joint on Bourbon Street that he had skipped the meetings to see.
“Do you want something to drink, honey?”
Rusty jerked, startled out of his reverie. He had almost forgotten Faye was seated next to him. He glanced up to see both his wife and the flight attendant peering at him.
“What?”
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Oh—uh, yes, I’ll have a Sprite,” he answered a bit sheepishly.
“You were a thousand miles away. You still worried about your practice?” Faye asked sweetly.
“Yeah, I just can’t decide what to do.” Rusty turned away. He was still feeling guilty about his carnal thoughts and afraid they might show in his eyes.
“About Moe?”
“Yes,” Rusty answered. “I’m not sure how much longer I can work with that man.”
“I know, honey, he has the morals of a rodent. You should really think about starting your own practice.”
“I might just do that, Faye. I might just do that.” Rusty took a long sip of Sprite and patted Faye’s hand, then to change the subject, he deliberately looked at his wristwatch. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes.”
About ten o’clock that evening, after the two hour drive from Las Vegas’ McCarran airport to St. George, Rusty dropped Faye at the house, then stopped by the office to check his schedule and see if there were any urgent messages. As usual, Moe’s office appointments were full for three weeks in advance, while Rusty’s future patient bookings were only full for less than a week even though he had been gone for a week. This fact always annoyed the hell out of him.
Rusty just could not understand why Moe was consistently more popular. It certainly wasn’t that he was a better doctor. Then to add to fuel to that argument, Moe was divorced, didn’t go to church and had started drinking. In this town, all of those were serious social offenses and this type behavior was totally unacceptable for a partner of his. Yet, people still continued to go to Moe. Even some of the good Mormons.
On the other hand, Rusty was a happily married man, went to church every Sunday and had never been in a bar in his life, at least as far as anyone in St. George knew. But in spite of this, Moe always saw more patients, did more surgery and subsequently made more money. To Rusty, this was unbelievable and unacceptable. What were patients thinking? However, he knew that regardless of the fact that his personal life was a mess, Moe rarely made mistakes in his professional life, and that was the hitch. If Moe screwed up more as a doctor, then most of these patients would be coming to him.
After checking his messages, Rusty started rummaging through the pathology outbox. Not surprisingly, it looked as if Moe had been busy. Idly, he picked up the two prostate biopsy specimen vials, one marked Howard H. Swensen, the other Robert E. Robinson. He could feel the corrugated gripping surface of the plastic caps, he popped the lid off one of the vials and the pungent odor of formalin stung his nostrils. Just for a fleeting second, he considered how much trouble Moe would be in if the vials were switched. It would serve that aging playboy son-of-a-bitch right. Wouldn’t that be the ticket? If he did switch them, how would anyone ever know? Should he?
“You back?”
Rusty jumped! Fighting for composure, he slowly turned around, rotating the uncapped specimen vial behind his back.
“Didn’t hear you come in.”
“That was obvious, I thought you were going to hit your head on the ceiling,” Moe said jokingly, but did not smile.
“What are you doing here at this hour?” Rusty asked hurriedly. It would be better if he took the offensive, started asking the questions.
“I was driving by and saw a light on. Thought I’d better check it out. You know, Ali Butras had his office broken into last month.”
“I