Mox Harris, M.D.,  B-Ward with the 'terns<hr/><br/>Mox relaxed behind the group as the lovely Dr. Markum put a succinct diagnosis from her apt observation.  He'd keep a close eye on her for a variety of reasons.  She looked uptight and like she might be the kind that would implode under stress.  She was tight as a drum.<br/><br/>He raised his eyebrows as the other young pup piped up with his renal diagnosis.  Yeah, the woman was yellow.  No doubt the next time she dropped she'd probably be one notch up on the worry scale.  He'd seen her a half dozen times in the last two months alone, poor thing.<br/><br/>As the group followed The Fat Man to the next bed, he put a warm hand on Dr. Boss' shoulder, holding him back just a second.<br/><br/>"Good way to make friends," he said, quietly.  "She's going to have to cover your ass in some huge way some day.   It's you against the patients...not you against each other."<br/><br/>He patted Bob on the back with a firm tap of his hand in the general direction of the group before turning back to the Gomer's bed and making a note for another blood test.   He signaled to Frost when he saw her that Mrs. S had some things needing tending by holding up the chart and tapping it meaningfully.<br/><br/>He followed the group of interns just in time to watch the lovely Latina intern do her thing.  It was definitely going to be a better year.<br/>