The Lobotomist's Wife(73)

Patient failed to appear for court-ordered lobotomy . . . went to Silver Sun boardinghouse . . . subject was agitated . . . applied electroshock for sedation . . . Once patient was unconscious, performed transorbital lobotomy on-site.

The third piece of paper in the file was a copy of an insurance claim submitted to Blue Cross. Robert had requested reimbursement for the cost of the surgery. Ruth walked to the phone at Robert’s desk, her legs unsteady below her. She dialed the exchange for Midwestern Regional.

“Yes, hello, this is Ruth Apter calling from Emeraldine Hospital. I would like to speak to”—she looked down at the form for the name of the administrator—“Mr. Warren, please. If he is available. It’s an urgent matter.”

Ruth sat anxiously waiting. Could Robert really have been so reckless, so myopic, as to have lobotomized a man in his room with no medical directive to do so? The fact that he was seeking insurance reimbursement meant that the hospital hadn’t paid. They were either unaware or did not approve of his performing the procedure. Either could trigger a national medical review and likely cause Robert to lose his license permanently. She realized her hands were shaking.

“Hello, this is Jonathan Warren.”

“Mr. Warren, this is Ruth Apter, I’m calling on behalf of Emeraldine Hospital in Manhattan to check in on a patient who I believe was treated by Dr. Apter when he was there in April of last year?”

“Ah yes, Mrs. Apter. We are so grateful to your husband for all that he did for us. And to your incredible hospital for enabling it. Happy to help if I can.” He was right. Emeraldine had enabled this to happen. She was momentarily overcome with panic and considered hanging up, but she knew she couldn’t. She needed to get to the bottom of this, regardless.

She put on a brave voice. “I appreciate it. I don’t usually do patient follow-up, but I was hoping to ascertain some information on one of the lobotomy subjects during the doctor’s visit there.”

“There were quite a few people that trip. He really is incredible. What is the name? I’ll see if I can hunt down the file.”

“Orenbluth. Samuel Orenbluth.”

“If you don’t mind holding on for a few minutes, I’d be happy to look. Lobotomy has really been a godsend to us here. We’re finally able to send some of our psychotics home. You must be so proud of your husband.”

Ruth’s stomach churned. She wanted to shout, No. Not anymore. Go visit the psychotics and see how they’re doing. But she contained herself. “I am happy to wait while you look for the file. And thank you. I really appreciate your help.”

Several minutes later, Mr. Warren returned to the phone. “Mrs. Apter, I’ve looked through the names of all the files from Dr. Apter’s visit, and I’m afraid I don’t see a patient by that name.”

“I see.” Could this be a dead end? “Any possibility you might have it elsewhere? It was a court-ordered case.”

“Oh, yes then. Those were filed separately from the rest. I’ll have a look there and be back.” Time seemed to stand still, and Ruth’s heart pounded more ferociously. Finally, he returned to the phone. “Mrs. Apter, this is quite odd, actually. I do not see Mr. Orenbluth’s file. However, his name is on the list of court-ordered patients. Presumably he didn’t show up. I wonder, how do you even have his name?”

Ruth took a girding breath. This was it. If she explained what she believed had happened to Mr. Orenbluth, she would set proceedings in motion that would ruin not just Robert’s reputation, but hers as well. Robert’s negligence, his butchery, was as much a failure of her oversight as it was his failure of conscience, his complete, pathological surrender to the demands of his ego.

But it didn’t matter. Saving lives was more important than her reputation.

“Mr. Warren, that is, in fact, what I am calling about. You see, I have a file here that indicates my husband performed a lobotomy on Mr. Orenbluth at a place called the Silver Sun boardinghouse.”

“Well, that is the closest accommodation to our hospital. The court-ordered cases often stay there. But we would never authorize treatment to be performed there. Are you sure?”

“Fairly certain, yes.”

“But that’s—a complete breach of medical ethics. If that got out, and it was thought that we sanctioned it . . . well, I simply can’t believe it.”

“I am holding a photograph of Mr. Orenbluth in my hand. Recovering from the procedure. At the Silver Sun.”

After a long pause, he said with a heavy voice, “I will be forced to report Dr. Apter immediately.”

“I understand. Mr. Warren, may I speak frankly?”

“Of course.”

“Some recent information has come to my attention about lobotomy that has caused me to reexamine its efficacy. After much deliberation, I will no longer authorize the use of the procedure at Emeraldine Hospital, and I am recommending that other hospitals follow suit. Much as it pains me, I believe that Dr. Apter has lost his ability to discern when it is an appropriate tool, and I am in the process of recommending that his medical license be revoked.” Her voice shook just slightly as she said these words.

“Mrs. Apter. This is your husband. Your hospital.”

“I am quite aware, Mr. Warren. But, as I’m sure you can appreciate, the well-being of my patients takes precedence over my personal life.” Her eyes filled with tears and she struggled to keep her voice steady and firm. “Mr. Warren, there is paperwork in Mr. Orenbluth’s file that Dr. Apter has filed with Blue Cross for reimbursement of the procedure. If they haven’t already looked into the matter, they surely will. And both your hospital and mine will be implicated in the process. If I were you, I would do what you need to do to preserve your own reputation.”