There were parts of Laurel’s job that she disliked more than others. One was the time crunch that an imminent death put upon her. It waited for no one and it was quite a thing to know that your work was necessary for the wishes of the person to be able to be acted upon after their death.
That was why she was in the hospital.
Unfortunately this particular file would almost certainly be litigated after the testator died and so Laurel knew that she had to jump through every technical hoop. It wasn’t just because she desperately did not want to have to face the legal profession board about any perceived negligence if there were disgruntled beneficiaries or executors, but because she genuinely cared that the man’s wishes would be followed. This wasn’t a last minute decision on his part, merely one that he hadn’t thought to act upon until he was on his death bed. While she thought he was competent a second, medical, opinion couldn’t hurt.
That was why she was in the corridor looking for a doctor.
She stopped someone who seemed a likely candidate.
“Excuse me, are you a doctor?”
@drblackwell
