Claire Ihi frowned. Once again, a vital piece of equipment needed by the ED at Starship Children's Hospital had been donated, as if by magic. The past six months, despite budget and staffing challenges, had seen vital donations come in whenever they were needed, as though someone were monitoring the department's needs, and responding accordingly. It was unheard of in all her years working at Starship, and, if she were honest, something she was unstintingly grateful for.
Still, grateful as she was, she felt more than a little guilty. Someone out there was dropping vast amounts of money on the ED, and she couldn't even thank them. As head of department, she felt she ought to. After all, whoever it was, they were saving the lives of so many kids, and they deserved a thank you, however small.
With that in mind, Claire closed the folder detailing the latest donation of a new portable X-ray machine, tucked it under her arm, and headed to the administration wing. She'd find out who the donor was by hook or by crook. The waiting room outside her exam room was quiet, a couple of women with babies cradled in their laps, and a youngish bloke who seemed intent on reading some months-old magazine. She flicked him a quick smile as he glanced up, before striding quickly down the corridor to admin.
"What do you mean, you can't bloody tell me who made the donations," Claire said, her voice frustrated. Anna, the donations secretary, seemed hell bent on cockblocking her at every turn. Anna shrugged, looking as though she couldn't care less. "Need to know, Doc, need to know," she said, her whiny, nasal voice getting right on Claire's tits. "Sure, fine, whatever," Claire replied, rolling her eyes. "Does it matter to you that it's my department, and I need to know?" Anna shrugged again, going back to her computer screen, indicating the conversation was over.
"Well fuck you, too," muttered Claire as she stalked away, something quite difficult to do when you were only 5'3" tall and wearing surgical scrubs with Crocs. Still, she managed it with aplomb, and, more furious than frustrated, made for the relative safety of her exam. She still had two consults that afternoon, but had time for lunch before they began. She'd need that time to calm down.
The waiting room was empty as she returned to her office, save for the man reading the magazine. She didn't recognise him: he certainly wasn't one of the "frequent fliers" in the department. Besides, he didn't have a child with him, which made him stick out like a sore thumb. Plastering a pleasant, professional expression onto her face, Claire approached him.
"I can't help but notice you've been here a while," she said, her voice soft and slightly husky. "Can I help you?"