Free The Healing Quilt by Lauraine Snelling Page B

That completes our current projects.”
    “The hospital and the mothers of our community thank you.”
    “You are most welcome.” She wanted to remind him of the hospitals reneged promise to pay half but kept it to herself.
    She paused long enough for him to ask if there was anything else. Ending her inner debate, she opened a file folder in front of her and pulled out the article from the Jefferson Star.
    “I would like this matter brought to the attention of the board.”
    His “well, urn…” did nothing to stop her.
    “I believe it more than a shame, actually a crime against the women of our county, to learn of the lack of adequate diagnostic equipment here at our own hospital through an article in the local paper. But thank God for a reporter who dug out these appalling statistics.” She picked up a sheaf of papers. “I've made copies for all of you so that we will all be singing from the same page,” she said, quoting a line Jefferson had used in nearly every meeting of the board. She passed papers in both directions and glanced around the table, unable to catch anyone's eye. Being that they were all men, she was not surprised. She laid her copy of the article on the table.
    “Now I know I could start a really provocative discussion here if I happened to mention that if new diagnostic equipment were needed for prostate problems, we'd have it in a flash. Since I hesitate to use such inflammatory practices, however.
    Someone groaned and a dry chuckle or two broke the silence.
    “I shall just say that we will get to the bottom of this, knowing that you gentlemen want the best for our female patients as well as the male. Therefore, I move that we form a committee to look into these allegations and determine what we can do in the near future to rectify the situation.” She tapped a two-inch thick file. “I have here an abundance of research materials for those committee members to read. Since this is a project rather near and dear to my heart”—again snorts and chuckles, albeit with slightly guilty expressions—“I volunteer to head up this committee and ask for volunteers.”
    When no hands went up, she cocked her head and let an eyebrow raise. “What, no takers?”
    “You know there is no money in the budget for new equipment.” The hiss came from her right.
    “We're not asking for money but a research committee.” When we need the money, I know where it will come from. But keeping her expression bland, she continued to look around the table.
    “Now then, surely one or two of you could volunteer so this is all done decently and in order.” Jefferson paused. “Although I believe there is a motion on the floor. Is there a second?” He waited.
    “I second and I'll volunteer to assist in the research,” the owner of the larger pharmacy in town added.
    Elaine knew the man's wife had found a lump herself and recovered quickly from a lumpectomy. She was one of the lucky ones.
    “Any discussion?” Jefferson waited, but the fingers on his right hand took up a drill of their own on the edge of the desk. “No, then— Yes, what is it, Harold?”
    “This doesn't commit us to any financial outlay does it?” an older man from the end of the table asked.
    “No, none. Anything else? Good, then all in favor say aye. Any opposed?”
    Elaine glanced around the table, virtually daring any to disagree.
    “The motion passes. If there is anyone else who would like to serve on this committee, please talk with Mrs. Giovanni after the meeting.”
    “Thank you.” Elaine took her seat and clicked off the small tape recorder she had in her jacket pocket. She sat through the remainder of the meeting, enjoying her lunch and refusing to meet the glowering looks Jefferson sent her way. Too bad, sonny, you've taken on the wrong group of peopk. When women get stirred up, look out. And you can bet your manicure, we'll be stirred up. Really stirred up.
    At one point she stopped, as did the others, at the wail of one