 The story of Dr. Kildare. Whatsoever house I enter, there will I go for the benefit of the sick. Whatsoever things I see or hear concerning the life of men, I will keep silence thereon. Counting such things to be held as sacred trusts. I will exercise my art solely for the cure of my pain. The story of Dr. Kildare, starring Lou Ayres and Lionel Perrimon. Metro-Goldwyn-Mare brought you those famous motion pictures. Now this exciting, heartwarming series is heard on radio. In just a moment, the story of Dr. Kildare. But first, your announcer, Dr. Kildare and Lionel Perrimon as Dr. Gillespie. Blair General Hospital, one of the great citadel of American medicine. A clump of gray-white buildings planted deep in the heart of New York. The nerve center of medical progress, where great minds and skilled hands wage man's everlasting battle against death and disease. Blair General Hospital, where life begins, where life ends, where life goes on. Well, for heaven's sake, Dr. Gillespie, you do have a slight temperature. Here, let me see it. Ninety-nine and seven tenths. Parker, give me that thermometer. All right, all right, read it yourself then. Ninety-nine? While you're as blind as a bat, it says a hundred. Well, I guess I know how to read it. A hundred? And it may even go higher. I wish I knew what you had up your sleeve. Parker, you keep your big nose out of my business. Well. For I may decide to amputate it. Oh, you. Kildare? Looks so bad off, Dr. Gillespie. And the way you sounded on the phone, I expected to find you flat on your back. Oh, I'm being capped up by sheer willpower, Jimmy. My back aches and joints ache and my headaches. Oh, I've got a temperature of over a hundred. Why, Dr. Gillespie? Well, get out of here. Well, all right, but you certainly don't have to yell at me. What do you think, Jimmy? Well, it sounds like you've picked up a flu bug or something. There's a lot of it around. My idea, exactly. I ought to go to bed for a couple of days, I imagine. Yes, you should. No use taking any chances with it. Well, of course I... Well, I don't know what I'll do about my patients. Well, I'll take them over for a few days. Oh, fine. Fine. Fine, Jimmy. There's nobody else on the staff I'd sooner trust them with. Then I'll have Parker make all the arrangements for you. You get yourself to bed and I'll look in on you later. Oh, Parker, when you call Molly Bird and get a room for Dr. Gillespie, he's got a touch of the flu. He's got a touch of meanness. Dr. Killia, that man's up to something. Now, you mark my words. You'd better get me the files on his patients. He asked me to take over for him. Well, he only has three patients right now, besides the new one who came in this morning, Mr. Barclay. Not Benjamin Barclay. Well, yes, that's his name, yes. I wondered why Gillespie was willing to be put to bed with anything less than a broken leg. Benjamin Barclay is something familiar about that name. Gillespie's an old school chum of carousel comes popping down here from Boston every year. So he'll never follow a treatment, makes a confounded nuisance out of himself and upsets the whole hospital. Oh, that's what's wrong with Gillespie. He's got an acute case of Barclayitis. Hell, I hope it's not contagious. Gillespie. No, you're not. No, you're not. I want Gillespie. I'm sorry, Dr. Gillespie's sick in bed. Now, let's have a look at you. Now, look, I won't be ordered around by young whippersnapper. Relax, Mr. Barclay. The nurse tells me you're complained of abdominal pain. Stomach ache. Simply a plain old-fashioned Boston stomach ache. I want Gillespie. Has this hurt you? Ow! Of course it hurts. Now, stop it. And I want Dr. Karoo down here at once. Maybe you'd like to have Karoo take charge of your case personally. Nonsense. He's merely an old friend. He's also a fool. Let him treat a sick dog of mine. I only went... Oh! Stop poking me. How long have you had this pain? Off and on for 20 years. Gillespie knows all about it. Is it worse when I press along here? Stop it, I say. What are you trying to do? Kill me right here in my bed? Mr. Barclay, I'm going to send in a nurse to take a sample for a blood count. As soon as I have... A blood count? I don't want a blood count. I want something to eat. Sorry. I can't permit any food for a while yet. Well, young man, I'm paying for it and I intend to have it. Now, you send Karoo down here immediately. I demand an adequate nourishing diet. I'll take up your demands after I've finished my diagnosis. Hmm. Now, are you going to cooperate or shall I send in a couple of interns to help the nurse? Stubborn young rapscallion. Well, let's get on with it then. Get it over with. That's the only way I'll get anything to eat. Sending your nurse. I've treated that cantankerous old buzzard for the last 15 years. He's got a chronic enduritis brought on by his own bad temper. Bad temper doesn't cause leukocytosis. The blood counts way up. Well, that can happen with colostitis. Not very often, though. And not with severe pain localized in the McBurney area. No. No, I disagree with you, Dr. Gillespie. I'm convinced that Barclay has a subacute appendicitis and definitely needs surgery. Ah, appendicitis. I know that man's insides like an open book. All he needs is a light diet and a couple of weeks in bed. And a good-looking nurse, on the case. He needs an operation. And that's what he's going to have. Jimmy? Excuse me. Well, what do you want, nosey? Oh, nothing from you. But I have to kill there. What is it, Parker? That the carousel outside he'd like to see. Oh. Well, send him in. What's he come showing around here for? Thank you. Well, gentlemen, feeling, Dr. Gillespie? Terrible. Oh, dear me, what a shame. Yes, what a shame. Dr. Kildare, my dear friend Benjamin Barclay has made some complaints about you. What sort of complaint? He says that you've been most inconsiderate to him. Even refused to let him have food. I've taken the liberty of sending him a tray. Then I hope you'll also take full responsibility for the consequences. Consequences? Yes. He has appendicitis. What? Oh, good heavens. He does not. He doesn't? No. Well, then, Dr. Gillespie, you don't think there's any harm in his having something to eat? Well, no. I am a sick man, Karoo. Temperature of over 100. And I am in no condition to take any responsibility. Oh, dear me, running this hospital would be so simple if people wouldn't get sick. Oh, dear, dear, dear. Oh, that tray of food. I must try to stop that. Well, Parker seems to be taking pretty good care of you, Dr. Gillespie. I guess I'll go break the news to Barclay. Wait a minute, Jimmy. Wait a minute. Wait. Maybe I better take over the case myself. After all, he is my responsibility. Oh, no, no, no. Now you're being generous, and I appreciate it much. You're a sick man. You have to stay in bed. Ah! Why, you've got a temperature of over 100 and you're in no condition to take any responsibility whatsoever. I won't hear of such a thing. It's a very simple piece of surgery, Mr. Barclay. There's nothing to be afraid of. Afraid? Young man, I am not afraid of anything. But I didn't come here for an operation. I don't want one, and I won't have one. And that's final. You're risking your life by putting it on. It's my life. Anyway, there's more danger of losing it by starvation. You're there. I want some food. I want you to settle down and relax, or you'll be in shape for surgery tomorrow. Confounded. Gillespie was always bad enough to can't tank his old buzzard, but I'll be damned if you're not worse. Maybe so. But I happen to know how much trouble can come from a rupture of appendix, and apparently you don't. I've got enteritis. I've always had enteritis, and I always will. You ask Gillespie. I did. All I need is a good rest and some good food. Served by a pretty girl. Where's Karoo? Mr. Barclay, you can see anybody you want to see, install as long as you like. But you're only postponing what's inevitable. And you're only harming yourself by doing it. So, it's inevitable, is it? Now look here, young man. You can't operate on me without my permission. And I absolutely, positively and irrevocably refuse to give it. And that's final. Don't stop fretting and keeping yourself all worked up. I'm going to have to give you a sedative. A sedative? And what do you think I should do? Fly here and twiddle my thumbs while Kildare crawls out on a limb and soars it off behind the mo- Oh, I think he's quite capable of looking after his own cases without you interfering. Interfering. And how would you know? Maybe you've made your own diagnosis of Barclay. Maybe you've decided it's a case of... Well, come on in, Kildare. Mr. Kildare, he's awful. Have you ever noticed that when a doctor gets sick, he's always the worst patient? Ah! And having absorbed those words of wisdom, parking a getter. Come on, get out of here. Oh, horrible man. Well, Jimmy, how are all my patients? If I may still facetiously call them that. Oh, fine, Dr. Gillespie. No new developments. No sudden epidemic of appendicitis in any of the wards? No. Barclay's still the only case. Well, I thought he'd be cured by now that you'd have rushed him into surgery while you had me here flattened my back. I wish I had, but he hasn't agreed to it yet. Can't ever show any sense. Sense? I'd call it just plain, bull-headed stubbornness. Well, whatever it is, he says no, and that's that. You can't operate. You don't have permission from the patient. I think I will have it, though, within the next hour. I've sent for a secret weapon. Ah! Now, Jimmy, you are taking this thing too seriously. Let it go for the night. I'll be out of bed tomorrow, ready to take over again. Where did you get the idea you'd be out of bed tomorrow? You haven't looked at your own chart. You're running a temperature of 100 and 3 right now. You've got the same gastric influenza that's going all over the city. Ah, it's a conspiracy. A confounded conspiracy. And I doubt if you'll be out of bed before the end of the week. Park is back of this. It's a plot. Anyway, you can't touch Barclay without his permission, and he'll never give in. I know him. He's just stubborn. Come in. Molly Burd told me to report to you. Oh, yes. Yes, I wanted to nurse for a special assignment, Miss Vernon. Well, now, when did Molly start hiring winners from Atlantic City? Thank you, sir. I've been here three weeks. And this is my secret weapon, Dr. Gillespie. Your secret weapon? Kill them. You can't do it. Tactics like your planning are banned by the United Nations. It's a violation of medical ethics. The Four Freedoms and the Magna Carta. You can't do it. Who are you? I'm Diana Vernon, your new nurse. Dr. Kildare assigned me. Well, now, this is more like it. Why didn't I get you in the first place? Well, of course you came in originally for diagnosis. And I only work on surgical cases. Young lady, I am not the surgical case. Your pillow's all bunched up. Here, let me soothe it for you. There isn't that better. Oh, indeed it is. I think it's so important to keep a patient happy and comfortable after the operation. Yes, after the operation. Then you stay on after it? Oh, yes, until the patient's released from the hospital. It's very interesting work. Yes, I imagine. I guess it's rather serious having one's appendix taken out. There's nothing to it. I was out of bed in four days with mine. Of course, it isn't so good when there are complications. But that's with the emergency cases. Yes, the emergency cases. You know, when people put it off too long. I think that's so silly, don't you? Well, quite a decision to make giving up one's appendix. But if it's causing trouble, what good is it? Yes, it's like a part of me. My wife had mine all my life. You have such a sense of humor. I just know we're going to get along fine. Aren't we, Mr. Bartley? Bartley's given his permission for an operation in the morning. He's as susceptible to a pretty girl as a dog is to flee his secret weapon. Well, Parker, now what do we do? Well, I don't know where you get this weed, Dr. Blesby. I'm having nothing to do with any idea of yours. All right, all right, all right. The best thing for you to do is to lie back there in that bed and stop trying to catch a cold on top of your feet. Ah, little twaddle. Now, if there were only some angle that's been overlooked, some rear-guard delaying action that might... Now what? Never mind, nosey. Give me that phone. Sally, let me talk to Karoo. How come you got hooked on this emergency call anyhow? You ain't no intern anymore. Special request from Karoo. I don't get it. I'll give you odds, Dr. Gillespie put him up to it. Yeah. Look, you don't think the old man's slipping, do you? Hardly. Furthermore, even if Gillespie were slipping, he'd still be the best diagnostician in the country today. He's a great guy, Joe. Well, if you feel that way, boss, then how come this big beef you and him's got in between you? It's all over the hospital about it. Oh, he gets stubborn sometimes. I guess we both do. Wait a second. If he thinks he can send me away from the hospital so he'll have a chance to get out of bed and talk to Barclay, he's crazy. Joe, pull into that gas station. I've got to call the hospital. Where are my clothes? I have CPSL, Dr. Gillespie. They're not in the closet. Of course they're not. But they were. I put them there myself this afternoon. Well, they're gone now. Well, what'd you do with them? How did you know that I... I mean, what makes you think that I did anything with you? When I get on my feet again to help me, I'll poison you. Well, I was only following instructions. Dr. Kildare told me not to let you out of this room tonight under any circumstance. Kildare told you, huh? And who have you worked for for the last 14 years? Well, you've caused. But this is different. It's a matter of professional ethics. A matter of what? According to the hospital manual, a nurse assigned to a patient takes all her orders from and is only responsible to the attending physician. As long as you're sick, you're the patient. I'm the nurse. And Dr. Kildare is the attending physician. Parker, we've had our ups and downs over the years, and we've had our arguments. But I never thought it had come to a matter of wrestling you for my pants. Oh, good morning, Miss Verne. I've finished the pre-medication. Are you ready for surgery whenever you want? Good. I'm going there now. Send him down in about 10 minutes. Miss Verne and I understand there's some talk going around the hospital about this diagnosis on Barkley. Well, I guess there has been some discussion about your disagreement with Dr. Gillespie. I hope it's clearly understood by everyone that Dr. Gillespie hasn't seen the patient, hasn't made any examination himself, and is basing his opinion entirely on Barkley's past medical history. I understand, Dr. Kildare. I see that everyone is clear about that. Thank you. Of course, under those circumstances, Dr. Gillespie can't be blamed if he's mistaken, but no, I've no business saying anything. You mean, suppose he isn't mistaken? Only he is. I'm sure that I... have Barkley sent into surgery, Miss Verne. Brilliant young doctor, promising career, shot right in the head. Crazy young fool. Parker, I wash my hands of mine. Oh, no, you aren't. Yes, I am. You think more of Dr. Kildare than if he were your own son, then you know you do. Nonsense. Boys, headstrong, stubborn, won't listen to advice. I'm through with him. Well, come on in, come on in. Good morning, Dr. Gillespie. Well, Wayman, if you've heard any reports about my demise, they're highly exaggerated. I ain't heard nothing about your eyes, sir. I just bring you something. Dr. Kildare sent it. He said, with his compliments... Why, it's a preservative vial. Yeah, it's got alcohol in it. Well, I guess I better be getting out of here. Dr. Gillespie, what on earth? Well, by the Great Horn School. What is it? A beautiful, lovely, inflamed, Kildare was white. Really? You mean that stubborn, headstrong, young fool? I mean the best doctor in this confounded hospital. Next to me, of course. You know something? I've been the fool. I know. I've said that for years. Now, are you ready for me to bring you lunch? Ready? I'm starved. Let's see, I'll have three lamb chops and a baked potato. You will have chicken broth and sliced peaches. Yeah, when I get out of this bed, I'm going to have you jumping through hoops of fire and brimstone. Sounds drastic, Parker. Maybe you'd better bring him only one lamb chop. No. Dr. Kildare, I was just... Well, Dr. Gillespie? Wayman just delivered your little token. Interesting. That's a good example of my awkward sense of humor. I didn't mean to rub anything in. Well, you should have. I'm a stubborn, headstrong, old fool. So am I, Dr. Gillespie. Maybe that's why we get along. When a man gets to the place where he'll argue over a diagnosis when he hasn't even seen the patient, then he needs to be brought down to Earth. Well, I can remember sometimes when you brought me down. Three-point landings, too, instead of crackups. How was your patient? Fine. No trouble at all. He'll have his normal bad humor back by tomorrow. You know something? I was completely sure of my diagnosis, and I knew you hadn't examined Barclay, but still, when I made that first incision, I was scared to death. We will return to the story of Dr. Kildare. Say, Mr. Barclay refuses to leave the hospital. Refuses? Says he doesn't care if you did discharge him three days ago, that he's still sick, and that he knows more about how he feels than you do, and he's going to stay until he's well. You don't suppose that Ms. Vrenen has anything to do with this attitude? That wouldn't be spying. Ah, that's the trouble with a secret weapon. You can never be sure just how far the maximum range is. I'd better call Molly Byrd and have her take Ms. Vrenen off the case. And have Vrenen come in here. I've got a special assignment for her. New case, Dr. Kildare? Yes. Come in, Kildare, come in, come in, come in. Parker here tells me you're running a temperature this morning, and that you complained of abdominal pain. Parker, you're a traitor. Well, I didn't think you ought to take chances. Ah, so you are going to stay in bed under the care of a competent physician, namely me. Now, wait a minute, I'm not that sick. Besides, I've got too much work to do. I'll take care of your patient, Jimmy. I'll take care of him. I'll read, diagnose all their cases, and I may operate on a couple of them. For what it just is, eh? I'll put you on a diet of chicken broth and keep you flat on your back while somebody steals all your clothes. I will not be railroaded off to sick bay. Come in, come in. What of me, Dr. Kildare? Oh, I did, never mind, Miss Vernon. Dr. Kildare claims he's not sick. Oh, I'm so sorry. I would have loved to take care of you, Dr. Kildare. Well, Kildare? My lord. Dr. Kildare, you know something. I think I've just taken a turn for the worse. It's her, the story of Dr. Kildare and Lionel Barrymore. Dr. Kildare is presented by arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, producers of Malaya, starring Spencer Tracy, James Stewart, Valentina Cortesa, Sydney Green Street, and John Hodiak. This program was written by Les Crutchfield and directed by William P. Russo, original music composed and conducted by Walter Schumann. Supporting cast included Virginia Gregg, Ted Osburn, Ed Max, Yvonne Petey, and Wilms Herbert, Dick Joy speaking. No other house I enter. There will I go for the benefit of the sick. Whatsoever things I see or hear concerning the life of men, I will keep silence thereon. Counting such things to be held as sacred trusts. I will exercise my art solely for the cure of my pain. Dr. Kildare, starring Lou Ayres and Lionel Barrymore. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer brought you those famous motion pictures. Now this exciting, heartwarming series is heard on radio. In just a moment, the story of Dr. Kildare. But first, your announcer, Lionel Barrymore as Dr. Gillespie. Blair General Hospital, one of the great citadels of American medicine. A clump of gray-white buildings planted deep in the heart of New York. The nerve center of medical progress, where great minds and skilled hands wage man's everlasting battle against death and disease. Blair General Hospital, where life begins, where life ends, where life goes on. Well, for heaven's sake, Dr. Gillespie, you do have a slight temperature. Here, let me see it. Ninety-nine and seven-tenths. Parker, give me that thermometer. All right, all right, read it yourself then. Nine. While you're as blind as a bat, it says a hundred. Well, I guess I know how to read a hundred. A hundred? And it may even go higher. I wish I knew what you had up your sleeve. Parker, you keep your big nose out of my business, for I may decide to amputate it. Oh, you... Still there? Come on, come in, come in, come in. Flat off, Dr. Gillespie, and the way you sounded on the phone, I expected to find you flat on your back. I'm being kept up by sheer willpower, you mean? My back aches and joints aches and my head aches. Oh, I've got a temperature of over a hundred. Why, Dr. Gillespie? Well, all right, but you certainly don't have to yell at me. What do you think, Jimmy? Well, it sounds like you've picked up a flu bug or something. There's a lot of it around. My idea. I ought to go to bed for a couple of days, I imagine. Yes, you should. Now, are you taking any chances with him? Well, huh? Well, of course I... Well, I don't know what I'll do about my patients. Well, I'll take them over for a few days. Oh, fine, fine, fine. Jimmy, there's nobody else on the staff I'd sooner trust them with. Then I'll have Parker make all the arrangements for you. You get yourself to bed and I'll look in on you later. When you call Molly Byrd and get a room for Dr. Gillespie, he's got a touch of the flu. He's got a touch of meanness. That's the killer, that man's up to something. Now, you mark my words. You'd better get me the files on his patients. He asked me to take over for him. Well, he only has three patients right now besides the new one who came in this morning, Mr. Barclay. Not Benjamin Barclay. Well, yes, that's his name, yes. I wondered why Gillespie was willing to be put to bed with anything less than a broken leg. Benjamin Barclay is something familiar about that name. Sure, he's an old school chum of caroose comes popping down here from Boston every year, so. He'll never follow a treatment, makes a confounded nuisance out of himself and upsets the whole hospital. Oh, that's what's wrong with Gillespie. He's got an acute case of Barclayitis. And I hope it's not contagious. No, you're not. Oh, no, you're not. I want Gillespie. Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. Gillespie's sick in bed. Now, let's have a look at you. Now, look, I won't be ordered around by a young whippersnapper. Relax, Mr. Barclay. The nurse tells me you're complained of abdominal pain. Stomach ache. Simply a plain old-fashioned Boston stomach ache. I want Gillespie. Does this hurt? Ow! Of course it hurts. Now, stop it. And I want Dr. Karoo down here at once. Maybe you'd like to have Karoo take charge of your case personally. It's nonsense. He's merely an old friend. He's also a fool. I wouldn't let him treat a sick dog of mine. I only went... Oh! Stop poking me. How long have you had this pain? Off and on for 20 years. Gillespie knows all about it. Is it worse what I press along here? Stop it, I say. What are you trying to do? Kill me right here in my bed? Mr. Barclay, I'm going to send in a nurse to take a sample for a blood count. A blood count? I don't want a blood count. I want something to eat. I can't permit any food for a while yet. What? Young man? I'm paying for it and I intend to have it. Now, you send Karoo down here immediately. I demand an adequate nourishing diet. I'll take up your demands after I've finished my diagnosis. Now, are you going to cooperate or shall I send in a couple of interns to help the nurse? Double young reps, can you? Well, let's get on with it and get it over with. That's the only way I'll get anything to eat. Send in your nurse. Jimmy, you're wrong. I've treated that cantankerous old buzzard for the last 15 years. He's got a chronic enduritis, brought on by his own bad temper. Bad temper doesn't cause leukocytosis. The blood counts way up. Well, that can happen with colocystitis. Not very often, though, and not with severe pain localized in the McBurney area. No, no, I disagree with you, Dr. Gillespie. I'm convinced that Barclay has a subacute appendicitis and definitely needs surgery. Ah, appendicitis. I know that man's insides like an open book. All he needs is a light diet and a couple of weeks in bed. And a good-looking nurse, in my case. He needs an operation, and that's what he's going to have. Jimmy. Excuse me. Well, what do you want, nosy? Nothing, Claire. What is it, Parker? That's the carousel that I'd like to see. Well, send him in. What's he come showing around here for? Thank you for feeling, Dr. Gillespie. Terrible. Oh, dear me, what a shame. Yes, what a shame. Dr. Kildare, my dear friend Benjamin Barclay has made some complaints about you. What sort of complaint? He says that you've been most inconsiderate to him, even refused to let him have food. I have taken the liberty of sending him a tray. Then I hope you'll also take full responsibility for the consequences. Consequences? Yes. He has appendicitis. What? Oh, good heavens. He does not. He doesn't? No. Well then, Dr. Gillespie, you don't think there's any harm in his having something to eat? Well, no. I am a sick man, Karoo. Temperature of over 100, and I am in no condition to take any responsibility. Oh, dear me, running this hospital would be so simple if people wouldn't get sick. Oh, dear, dear, dear. Oh, that tray of food. I must try to stop that. Well, Parker seems to be taking pretty good care of you, Dr. Gillespie. I guess I'll go break the news to Barkley. Now, wait a minute, Jimmy. Wait a minute. Wait. Maybe I better take over the case myself. After all, he is my responsibility. Oh, no, no, no. Now, you're being generous, and I appreciate it, but you're a sick man. You have to stay in bed. Why, you've got a temperature of over 100, and you're in no condition to take any responsibility whatsoever. I won't hear such a thing. It's a very simple piece of surgery, Mr. Barkley. There's nothing to be afraid of. Afraid? Young man. I am not afraid of anything, but I didn't come here for an operation. I don't want one, and I won't have one. And that's final. You're risking your life by putting it on. It's my life. Anyway, there's more danger of losing it by starvation. You're there. I want some food. I want you to settle down and relax, or you'll be in shape for surgery tomorrow. I found it. Gillespie was always bad enough to can't tank his old buzzard, so I'll be damned if you're not worse. Maybe so. But I happen to know how much trouble can come from a rupture of appendix, and apparently you don't. I've got enteritis. I've always had enteritis, and I always will. You ask Gillespie. I did. All I need is a good rest and some good food. Served by a pretty girl. Where's Karoo? Mr. Barkley, you can see anybody you want to see, install as long as you like, but you're only postponing what's inevitable, and you're only harming yourself by doing it. So, it's inevitable, is it? Now, look here, young man. You can't operate on me without my permission, and I absolutely, positively and irrevocably refuse to give it. And that's fine. If you don't stop fretting and keeping yourself all worked up, I'm going to have to give you a sedative. A sedative? And what do you think I should do? Fly here and twiddle my thumbs while Kildare crawls out on a limb and soars it off behind them? Oh, I think he's quite capable of looking after his own cases without you interfering. Interfering? And how would you know? Maybe you've made your own diagnosis of Barkley. Maybe you've decided it's a case of, well, come on in, Kildare. I have to kill there. He's awful. Have you ever noticed that when a doctor gets sick, he's always the worst patient to go? And having absorbed those words of wisdom parking and get out of here? Well, Jimmy, how are all my patients? If I may still facetiously call them that. Fine, Dr. Gillespie, no new developments. No sudden epidemic of appendicitis in any of the wards? No, Barkley's still the only case. Well, I thought he'd be cured by now that you'd have rushed him into surgery while you had me here flattened my back. I wish I had, but he hasn't agreed to it yet. Never showed any sense. Sense? I'd call it just plain, bullheaded stubbornness. Well, whatever it is, he says no, and that's that. You can't operate. You don't have permission from the patient. I think I will have it, though, within the next hour. I've sent for a secret weapon. Ah, now, Jimmy, you're taking this thing too seriously. Let it go for tonight. I'll be out of bed tomorrow. I'm ready to take over again. Where did you get the idea you'd be out of bed tomorrow? You haven't looked at your own chart. You're running a temperature of 103 right now. You've got the same gastric influenza that's going all over the city. Ah, it's a conspiracy. A confounded conspiracy. And I doubt if you'll be out of bed before the end of the week. Barkley's back of this. It's a plot. Anyway, you can't touch Barkley without his permission, and he'll never give in. I know him. He's just stubborn. Come in. Anna Vernon, Dr. Kildare. Molly Bird told me to report to you. Oh, yes. Yes, I wanted to nurse for a special assignment, Miss Vernon. Well, now, when did Molly start hiring winners from Atlantic City? Thank you, sir. I've been here three weeks. Um, this is my secret weapon, Dr. Glassman. Your secret, but Kildare, you can't do it. Tactics like your planning are banned by the United Nations. It's a violation of medical ethics, the poor freedoms, and the Magna Carta. You can't do it. You're a new nurse. Dr. Kildare assigned me. Well, now, this is more like it. Uh, why didn't I get you in the first place? Well, of course you came in originally for diagnosis, and I only work on surgical cases. Uh, young lady, I am not the surgical case. Your pillow's all bunched up. Here, let me soothe it for you. Oh, there isn't that better. Oh, indeed it is. I think it's so important to keep a patient happy and comfortable after the operation. Uh, yes, after the operation. Um, then you stay on after it? Oh, yes, until the patient's released from the hospital. It's very interesting work. Yes, I imagine. Um, I guess it's rather serious having one's appendix taken out. Oh, there's nothing to it. I was out of bed in four days with mine. Of course, it isn't so good when there are complications, but that's with the emergency cases. Uh, yes, the emergency cases. You know, when people put it off too long. I think that's so silly, don't you? Well, I had a decision to make giving up one's appendix. But if it's causing trouble, what good is it? Yes, it's like a part of me. My wife had mine all my life. You have such a sense of humor. I just know we're going to get along fine. Aren't we, Mr. Barclay? Barclay's given his permission for an operation in the morning. Ah, he's as susceptible to a pretty girl as a dog as to fleas, secret weapon. Well, Parker, now what do we do? Well, I don't know where you get this weed, Dr. Blesby. I'm having nothing to do with any idea of yours. All right, all right, all right, traitor. The best thing for you to do is to lie back there in that bed and stop trying to catch a cold on top of your feet. Ah, little twaddle. Now, if there were only some angle that's been overlooked, some rear-guard delaying action that might... Now what? Never mind, nosey. Give me that phone. Sally, let me talk to Karoo. You got hooked on this emergency call anyhow. You ain't no intern anymore. Special request from Karoo. I don't get it. I'll give you odds. Dr. Blesby put him up to it. Yeah. Look, you don't think the old man's slipping, do you? Hardly. Well, even if Blesby were slipping, he'd still be the best diagnostician in the country today. He's a great guy, Joe. Well, if you feel that way, boss, then how come this big beef you and him's got in between you? It's all over the hospital about it. Oh, he gets stubborn sometimes. I guess we both do. Wait a second. If he thinks he can send me away from the hospital so he'll have a chance to get out of bed and talk to Barclay, he's crazy. Joe, pull into that gas station. I've got to call the hospital. Where are my clothes? I have to see for yourself, Dr. Blesby. They're not in the closet. Of course they're not. But they were. I put them there myself this afternoon. Well, they're gone now. Well, what'd you do with them? How did you know that I... I mean, what makes you think that I did anything with you? Ah, ah, ah. When I get on my feet again to help me, I'll poison you. Well, I was only following instructions. Dr. Kildare told me not to let you out of this room tonight. I'm there in any circumstance. Kildare told you, huh? And who have you worked for, for the last 14 years? Well, you've caused. But this is different. It's a matter of professional ethics. A matter of what? According to the hospital manual, a nurse assigned to a patient takes all her orders from and is only responsible to the attending physician. As long as you're sick, you're the patient. I'm the nurse. And Dr. Kildare is the attending physician. Parker, we've had our ups and downs over the years, and we've had our arguments. But I never thought it had come to a matter of wrestling you for my pants. Oh, good morning, Miss Vernon. I've finished the premedication. Mr. Barkley is ready for surgery whenever you want him. Good. I'm going there now. Send him down in about 10 minutes. Miss Vernon and I understand there's some talk going around the hospital about this diagnosis on Barkley. Well, I guess there has been some discussion about your disagreement with Dr. Gillespie. I hope it's clearly understood by everyone that Dr. Gillespie hasn't seen the patient, hasn't made any examination himself, and is basing his opinion entirely on Barkley's past medical history. I understand, Dr. Kildare. I'll do my best to see that everyone is clear about that. Thank you. Of course, under those circumstances, Dr. Gillespie can't be blamed if he's mistaken, but no, I've no business saying anything. You mean, suppose he isn't mistaken? Only he is. I'm sure that I... have Barkley sent him to surgery, Miss Vernon. Brilliant young doctor, promising career, shot right in the head. Crazy young fool. Barkley, I wash my hands of... I'm through with him. Oh, no, you aren't. Yes, I am. You think more of Dr. Kildare than if he were your own son, than you know you do. Nonsense. Boys, headstrong, stubborn, won't listen to advice. I'm through with him. Good morning, Dr. Gillespie. Well, Wayman, have you heard any reports about my demise? They're highly exaggerated. I ain't heard nothing about your eyes, sir. I just bring you something. Dr. Kildare sent it. He said, with his compliments. Why, it's a preservative vial. Yeah, it's got alcohol in it. Well, I guess... I guess I better be getting out of here. Dr. Gillespie, what on earth? Well, by the Great Horn School. What is it? A beautiful, lovely, inflamed, Kildare was right. Really? You mean that stubborn, headstrong, young fool? I mean the best doctor in this confounded hospital. Next to me, of course. You know something? I've been the fool. I know. I've said that for years. Are you ready for me to bring you lunch? Ready? I'm start. I'll see you, Bob. I'll have three lamb chops and a baked potato. You'll have chicken broth and sliced peaches. When I get out of this bed, I'm going to have you jumping through hoops of fire and brimstone. Sounds drastic, Parker. Maybe you'd better bring him only one lamb chop. No, Dr. Kildare, I was just... Don't you mean... Well, Dr. Gillespie, Wayman just delivered your little token. Interesting. That's a good example of my awkward sense of humor. I didn't mean to rub anything in. Well, you should have. I'm a stubborn, headstrong, old fool. So am I, Dr. Gillespie. Maybe that's why we get along. When a man gets to the place where he'll argue over a diagnosis when he hasn't even seen the patient, then he needs to be brought down to earth. Well, I can remember sometimes when you brought me down. Three-point landings, too, instead of crack-ups. How's your patient? Fine. No trouble at all. He'll have his normal bad humor back by tomorrow. You know something? I was completely sure of my diagnosis, and I knew you hadn't examined Barclay, but still, when I made that first incision, I was scared to death. Once we will return to the story of Dr. Kildare. Say, Mr. Barclay refuses to leave the hospital. Refuses? Says he doesn't care if you did discharge him three days ago. That he's still sick, and that he knows more about how he feels than you do, and he's going to stay until he's well. You don't suppose that Ms. Vernon has anything to do with this attitude? That wouldn't be spying. That's the trouble with a secret weapon. You can never be sure just how far the maximum range is. I'd better call Molly Byrd and have her take Ms. Vernon off the case. And have Vernon come in here. I've got a special assignment for her. New case, Dr. Kildare? Yeah. Come in, Kildare. Come in, come in, come in. Parker here tells me you're running a temperature this morning and that you complained of abdominal pain. Parker, you're a traitor. Well, I didn't think you ought to take chances. So, you are going to stay in bed under the care of a competent physician, namely me. Wait a minute. I'm not that sick. Besides, I've got too much work to do. I'll take care of your patients, Jimmy. I'll take care of them. I'll read, diagnose all their cases, and I may operate on a couple of them. Poetic justice, eh? I'll put you on a diet of chicken broth and keep you flat on your back while somebody steals all your clothes. I'll not be railroaded off to sick bay. Come in, come in. What, has me, Dr. Gillespie? Oh, I did. Never mind, Ms. Vernon. Dr. Kildare claims he's not sick. Oh, I'm so sorry. I would have loved to take care of you, Dr. Kildare. Well, Kildare? My lord, Dr. Gillespie, you know something. I think I've just taken a turn for the worse. Here's the story of Dr. Kildare starring Lou Ayres and Lionel Barrymore. Dr. Kildare is presented by arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, producers of Malaya, starring Spencer Tracy, James Stewart, Valentina Cortesa, Sydney Green Street, and John Hodiac. This program was written by Les Crutchfield and directed by William P. Russo. Original music, composed and conducted by Walter Schumann. Supporting cast included Virginia Gregg, Ted Osborne, Ed Max, Yvonne Patey, and Will...