W Is for Wasted

the NIH, the National Institutes of Health. The randomized, double-blind study was intended to develop behavioral and drug-relapse prevention for individuals dependent on both nicotine and alcohol using a combination of Acamprosate, Naltrexone, and Glucotace.
    According to the abstract: “The aim of this study is to compare the effect of cognitive therapy in adjunct of three different pharmacotherapies.”
    The sponsor was Paxton-Pfeiffer in collaboration with the Santa Teresa Research Institute at the University of California Santa Teresa. The start date, September 1987. Estimated study completion date, September 1989. Estimated enrollment, 40. “This study is currently recruiting participants,” it said. Principal investigator: Linton Reed, M.D., Ph.D. Pete made a note of the eleven-digit clinical-trials government identifier number and then sat and thought about what he’d learned. The subject was still perplexing, but no longer opaque.
    When he went back to the main desk and inquired about a Dr. Stupak, first name unknown, they rustled up a Viktor Stupak in an AMA publication that listed his graduation from medical school, his subsequent internship and residency, and various appointments, leading up to his current position as chief of Surgical Oncology, Arkansas Christian Cancer Center, which was affiliated with Arkansas Christian College in Conway, Arkansas.
    Out of curiosity, he had them track down a photograph and bio of Linton Reed, which allowed him to trace his educational history as well. Reed had done his undergraduate work at Florida State. He remembered now that Willard had mentioned Florida State as the place where Linton and Mary Lee had met. After Florida State, Reed had been accepted at Duke, where he picked up his Ph.D. and M.D. in successive years. He then completed an internship and began his surgical residency at the very Arkansas Christian Cancer Center where Viktor Stupak, M.D., was currently ensconced. Linton Reed had been there a scant six months. After an unexplained gap, his career history picked up again when he was awarded a two-year fellowship by the National Science Foundation. Pete considered putting a call through to Dr. Stupak but didn’t think he’d have much luck. These medical types could be a close-mouthed lot.
    Pete paid for copies of the documents he thought relevant and put them into a file folder. When he returned to his car, he put the folder into one of the boxes he was taking home. First chance he had, he’d consolidate all the paperwork, organizing the files for easy access. Pete spent way too much time hunting down documents he should have had at his fingertips.
    •   •   •
    First thing Monday morning, Pete called the UCST Health Sciences Building. He’d picked up the number from Willard, who was blissfully ignorant of what was going on behind the scenes. Dr. Linton Reed wasn’t important enough to have a secretary of his own. The gal Pete talked to was the gatekeeper for the whole medical facility and took her job much too seriously. She mentioned her name in a clipped fashion when she picked up his call, but Pete missed it. After that, she did everything possible to thwart and obstruct his desire for a meeting. First she claimed Dr. Reed was in his clinic office only two days a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. When Pete pressed for an appointment the next day, she wanted to know the nature of his business, suggesting it might be something she could help him with, thus saving the oh-so-important Dr. Linton Reed the bother of having to deal with the likes of him.
    “This is strictly personal,” Pete said.
    “Personal” was a word that apparently had no place in this woman’s vocabulary.
    She said, “I understand you may feel that way, but the fact remains that Dr. Reed is tied up this week. The next possible appointment is on Thursday, the twenty-eighth.”
    “Let me tell you something, Miss . . . What was your name again?”
    “Greta Sobel.”
    “What you should be aware of, Miss Sobel, is that my proposal to Dr. Reed is not only personal, it’s date sensitive. He’s not going to appreciate your making my life difficult. All I need is twenty minutes of his time, so you can either work me in tomorrow or he’s going to know how uncooperative you’ve been.”
    “There’s no reason to take that tone.”
    “Apparently there is, given your attitude.”
    “If you’ll give me your name and number, I’ll check with Dr. Reed and get back