"Dinner is in the fridge."

They communicated mainly by leaving notes in the apartment.

What if…?

What if I had stayed with Alfred in Africa?

On a Friday when Paige went into the change room to put on her scrubs, the word "bitch" had been written on them with a black marker pen.

The impossible hours continued to be a punishment, testing the limits of endurance for all the residents.

Paige welcomed the pressure. It gave her no time to think about Alfred and the wonderful future they had planned together. And yet, she could not get him out of her mind.

What he had done filled her with a deep pain that refused to go away. She tortured herself with the futile game of "what if?"

"Sorry, I didn't have time to clean up."

What if he had come to Chicago with me?

"The microwave is out."

"What about the three of us having dinner out Saturday night?''

During the next few months, Paige saw very little of Kat and Honey. They would have a hurried breakfast in the cafeteria and occasionally pass one another in the corridors.

What if he had not met Karen?

The world outside the hospital ceased to exist. Paige was aware that Iraq was pillaging Kuwait, but that was overshadowed by the needs of a fifteen-year-old patient who was dying of leukemia. The day East and West Germany became united, Paige was busy trying to save the life of a diabetic patient. Margaret Thatcher resigned as prime minister of England, but more important, the patient in 214 was able to walk again.

The following day when Paige went to look for her scut book, it was gone. All her notes had disappeared. Maybe I misplaced it, Paige thought

The greatest stress was working in the ER. The emergency room was constantly overcrowded with people suffering every form of trauma imaginable.

But she couldn't make herself believe it.

What made it bearable was the doctors Paige worked with.

With few exceptions, they had dedicated themselves to healing others, relieving pain, and saving lives. Paige watched the miracles they performed every day, and it filled her with a sense of pride.

The long hours at the hospital and the pressures placed an enormous strain on the doctors and nurses who worked there.

"I'd love to."

"How do you like San Francisco?" Paige asked.

The divorce rate among the doctors was extraordinarily high, and extramarital affairs were common.

Chang's wife, Sye, turned out to be a lovely young woman with a classic, timeless beauty. Chang showed her around the hospital, and afterward they had lunch in the cafeteria with Paige.

There was a small silence. "It's an interesting city," Sye said politely, "but I feel as though I am a stranger here. It is too big, too noisy."

"Why don't you invite her here for lunch, Tom? Let her see what you're doing here and how important it is."

Tom Chang was one of those having a problem. He told Paige about it over coffee.

"I can handle the hours," Chang confided, "but my wife can't. She complains that she never sees me anymore and that I'm a stranger to our little girl. She's right. I don't know what to do about it."

"No."

"Has your wife visited the hospital?"

Chang had told Paige that Sye had been born and raised in Hong Kong.

Chang brightened. "That's a good idea. Thanks, Paige. I will. I would like you to meet her. Will you join us for lunch?"

"I come from a small village an hour away from Hong Kong. There, there is no noise and no automobiles, and everyone knows his neighbors." She looked at her husband. "Tom and I and our little daughter were very happy there. It is very beautiful on the island of Llama. It has white beaches and small farms, and nearby is a little fishing village, Sak Kwu Wan. It is so peaceful."

Her voice was filled with a wistful nostalgia. "My husband and I were together much of the time, as a family should be. Here, I never see him."

Tom Chang took his wife's hand. "You see? Everything will be fine, Sye. You must be patient."

Paige said, "Mrs. Chang, I know it's difficult for you right now, but in a few years, Tom will be able to set up his own practice, and then his hours will be much easier."

"I understand," she said. There was no conviction in her voice.

As they talked, a man walked into the cafeteria, and as he stood at the door, Paige could see only the back of his head.

"But I understand Hong Kong is also big and noisy.''

"Yes," Paige lied. I've got to forget him. It's over. And yet, the memories of all those wonderful years, the fun, the excitement, the love they had for each other… How do I forget all that'? I wonder if I could persuade any of the doctors here to do a lobotomy on me.

Honey had been assigned to an attending physician named Charles Isler, who was known around the hospital as a martinet.

Paige ran into Honey in the corridor. Honey was out of breath and looked worried.

On Honey's first day of rounds, he had said, "I've been looking forward to working with you, Dr. Taft. Dr. Wallace has told me about your outstanding record at medical school. I understand you're going to practice internal medicine."

"Is everything all right?" Paige asked.

They began their rounds.

Her heart started to race. He turned around. It was a complete stranger.

Honey smiled uneasily. "Yes. Fine." She hurried on.

"Good. So, we'll have you here for three more years."

Chang was watching Paige. "Are you all right?"

"Yes."

The first patient was a young Mexican boy. Dr. Isler ignored the other residents and turned to Honey. "I think you'll find this an interesting case, Dr. Taft. The patient has all the classic signs and symptoms: anorexia, weight loss, metallic taste, fatigue, anemia, hyperirritability, and uncoordination. How would you diagnose it?" He smiled expectantly.

"That's right," Dr. Isler said.

"Oh, not too bad for an old man."

The next patient was a man in his eighties. His eyes were red and his eyelids were stuck together.

A second resident spoke up. "If the patient has had long-term exposure, he should be treated as a potential case of encephalopathy."

Dr. Isler turned to Honey again. "How would you treat it?"

Dr. Isler nodded. "Right. That's what we're doing. We're correcting the dehydration and electrolyte disturbances, and giving him chelation therapy."

Dr. Isler was watching her, puzzled. "It's a clear-cut case of --"

Honey looked at him a moment. "Well, it could be several things, couldn't it?"

Honey said evasively,' 'Well, there are several different methods of treatment, aren't there?"

Honey smiled. "Of course. Lead poisoning."

He looked at Honey. She nodded in agreement.

"We'll have your eyes taken care of in a moment," Dr. Isler assured him. "How are you feeling?"

One of the other residents broke in, "Lead poisoning?"

Dr. Isler pulled aside the blanket to reveal the patient's swollen knee and ankle. There were lesions on the soles of his feet.

"I must admit that I was a little surprised that you --"

Dr. Isler turned to the residents. "The swelling is caused by arthritis." He looked at Honey. "Combined with the lesions and the conjunctivitis, I'm sure you know what the diagnosis is."

"The prognosis?"

They made the rounds of a dozen more patients, and when they were finished, Honey said to Dr. Isler, "Could I see you for a moment alone, Dr. Isler?"

The other resident replied. ' 'The prognosis is unclear. It can be treated with anti-inflammation drugs."

Honey said slowly, "Well, it could be… you know…"

"Very good," Dr. Isler said.

When they were seated in his office, Honey said, "I know you're disappointed in me."

"It's Reiter's syndrome," one of the residents spoke up. "The cause is unknown. It's usually accompanied by low-grade fever."

Dr. Isler nodded. "That's right." He looked at Honey. "What is the prognosis?"

Honey interrupted. "I know, Dr. Isler. I didn't close my eyes last night. To tell you the truth, I was so excited about working with you that I… I just couldn't sleep."

"Yes. Come into my office."

Honey looked down for a moment, then said softly, "I had a younger brother who was injured in an accident. The doctors did everything they could to try to save him… but I watched him die. It took a long time, and I felt so helpless.

He looked at her in surprise. "Oh. I see. I knew there had to be a reason for… I mean, your medical school record was so fantastic. What made you decide to become a doctor?"

I decided then that I was going to spend my life helping other people get well." Her eyes welled up with tears.

Honey looked at him and thought, He believed me.

She's so vulnerable, Isler thought. "I'm glad we had this little talk."