<strong>Bobby Boss, M.D at bed 12 with Markum and Charlotte Angels</strong><br/>Stepping closer to the other interns, the whole group had to shuffle about to make adequate space for Goldwasser to loom over the patient and blast her ears through the stethoscope.<i>Jesus</i>.  Bobby plucked a pen from his coat, clicking it to life with his thumb and writing the date on the record, followed by<b>check for noise induced hearing loss per Dr. Boss</b>.<br/><br/><br/>Saved by the fat man! Bobby was more than happy to relinquish the record as Goldwasser made a rather astute observation, which allowed him to back up, far from the pale fingers that touched him.  This is exactly why he wanted to be a surgeon, the patients didn't ask these question, hell, they didn't even speak, let alone touch back.  For a brief moment, Bobby looked at Goldwasser in shock..perhaps there was something to be learned from the fat man other than the best placed to get ribs in town.<br/><br/><br/>The calm rounds seemed to suddenly turn into a moment of frenzy with the pager stealing away their fearless leader.  Bouncing around the other interns to get into their places, Bobby does not wait for Markum, he heads to bed 12 as though she didn't even exist.<br/><br/><br/>Fingers flipped through the sticky pages of Charlotte Angels' medical record, Bobby's expression growing grimmer with each dreadful note he tried to read. It was hard to make out the scribbled handwriting, especially beneath the dried donut icing smeared across the pages.  That was old icing, wasn't it?<br/><br/><br/>"Think we're on the palliative path?"  Bobby acknowledged Markum without ever looking at her, tossing the record into her hands as he moved around the bed to check her vitals.