The Food Chain
Photo credit: studynlearn.com
(A Sequel to ‘Under the Tree’ – Blog posted 16th December 2021)
Edenvale Hospital, 1987. Everyone was talking about the news that Mr Nahir was in love with Dr Ashington. Now, the surgeon had sent for me – never a good omen. Before I knocked on the door of his office, I looked at the words written in large letters on the name plate, ‘Mr N Nahir MD FRCS. Head of Surgery’. I entered the large and well-appointed room.
As I had expected, the surgeon was not in good form. ‘This morning,’ he said, ‘I had a conversation with Dr Gardiner. Apparently, there is a rumour going around that I said something … discourteous to his wife, Dr Ashington, at Christmas time.’
He looked severely at me.
‘Where could such nonsense have come from? Have you said anything about the matter?’ he asked sourly. ‘As far as I remember, you were the only other person present in the room when I went to wish Dr Ashington a Happy Christmas. You will remember that I said nothing improper to her.’
My voice was confident but polite when I replied. ‘I’ve not said a word, Sir. I haven’t spoken to Dr Gardiner recently. And as you know, I am one hundred percent loyal to you.’
‘Are you?’ he asked sharply. I pretended not to notice that he was berating me. ‘You’ll remember that your career as a surgeon depends now, and will continue to depend, on my goodwill and the reference that I write for you.’
This was true, without doubt. I was searching my brain to see if there was anything in there that might be a help to me. Before I had the chance to say a word, however, the telephone on his desk began to ring. He pressed the loudspeaker button and shouted ‘Nahir!’
It was his secretary’s voice we heard. ‘It’s the BBC on the line, Mr Nahir. They want to speak to you about their documentary series, ‘Heroic Surgeons’.’
In the blink of an eye, a change came over Mr Nahir’s face. He smiled at the loudspeaker as though he was in a good mood, ‘Thank you, Sandra. Won’t you put them through to me?’
After one or two clicks, a female voice from the BBC was heard. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Nahir. I’m Marianna Smith, producer of the programme ‘Heroic Surgeons of Today’. I wonder if you would be willing to appear in one of our programmes, one that will focus particularly on surgeons such as yourself who are inspirational in encouraging their trainees.’
‘Yes, indeed. I’d be absolutely delighted to take part in the programme,’ he said with a laugh. ‘My understudy, Dr Graham Lamb, is here with me now – an excellent fellow, I must say. I had invited him to my office after setting aside an hour in my timetable to listen to his thoughts about his training experience – to see if it might have been better in any way. Isn’t that so, Graham?’
I realised immediately that I would never have an opportunity like this again. I spoke directly into the microphone to ensure that the BBC producer would hear me clearly. ‘Yes, Mr Nahir,’ I said, ‘I’m indebted to you for all that I have learned under your guidance. And not only about surgery. From you, I have learned how to behave like a gentleman and a good colleague. And I’m speechless about the reference you are going to write for me – as a result of your kind and generous words, I have no doubt that I’ll advance in my career. I’d like to send a copy of my reference to the BBC forthwith as a concrete example of the wonderful support you are giving me.’
Surprisingly, my outrageous boldness had not made Mr Nahir angry at all. In fact, he was pleased that I had used my wit to rescue myself from a difficult corner. He was delighted when he was featured on television as a ‘Heroic Surgeon’. He bought a couple of dozen bottles of very expensive wine and there was a big party at his house.