If you missed previous segments of the CMEslinger saga, you can read them here:
And now, our latest segment:
Part 3 (Scott)
As always, the man in black had taken a seat in the far corner of Café Gilead facing the front door.
“You’ve been watching too many movies,” the CMEslinger said as he slid into the vinyl upholstered booth. “What, you think that one of your exes is going to walk through that door with an eye for some vengeance? On second thought, I’ve met all three of your exes. Probably wise to be careful.”
“OK there, wise guy,” retorted the man in black. “Go ahead and gloat all you want. I can take it, especially from someone who looks like he just went through a car wash with the windows down. Good God, man – people warned me, but you really do look like hell.”
“Enough with the pleasantries,” the CMEslinger said. “What’s going on with TAXIE and Marge?”
The man in black proceeded to recount his actions of the last 3 days since he received the panicked call from TAXIE’s vice president of education concerning Marge’s disappearance and the organization’s dire straits regarding their upcoming accreditation review. He told the CMEslinger about the frantic calls to Marge’s sister in North Carolina, her daughter in Sweden, and her best friend in Maryland. He explained how he drove the 4 hours from his beach shack in Wildwood Crest, NJ, to TAXIE’s headquarters outside Washington DC, spending hours with the team there replaying Marge’s actions on the day she disappeared. There was a call to the ACCME, another one to the AANP, and even one to the ANCC. The man in black had even checked in with the tournament director of the U.S. Boggle Championship — Marge was a three-time national champion – to see if she was at some sort of international tournament.
No one had heard a peep from Marge in 5 days.
“So she’s not with her family,” the CMEslinger said.
“Nope.”
“And she’s not onsite at a CME event.”
“You’re catching on.”
“And she’s not on one of her accreditation jaunts or at some other special event.”
“Not that I’ve been able to figure out.”
“So that can only mean one thing. She’s helping someone who is in a whole heap of accreditation trouble.”
“Bingo, my friend. Just like 13 years ago.”
And with those words, the CMEslinger and the man in black were transported back in time to the last episode when Marge vanished. Thirteen years ago, on a random week in April, Marge had simply—poof—disappeared from the TAXIE offices for 4 days without a word. There was a similar panic until, like magic, Marge simply was back at her desk one morning as if nothing had happened. Upon questioning, Marge explained that one of her accreditation friends had made a major blunder in her interpretation of ACCME Standard 3.5 and needed some round-the-clock help to rectify the situation and alert learners retroactively to the relevant disclosures of one of her organization’s recent presenters.
“He called me to help him out of a jam,” Marge said. “What was I going to do, say no? We’ve been friends for decades.”
“But why didn’t you tell anyone where you were?” her officemates asked.
“What are you, my mother?” Marge responded. “I’m a big girl. I can do what I want and go where I want. Stop being such a busybody.”
And that was that. Until now.
“OK,” the CMEslinger postured, taking a sip of his black coffee. “So someone close to Marge, someone she wouldn’t dare let down, is in crisis. But who? And why now?”
The CMEslinger was puzzled. But as he fixed his gaze on the man in black, he wasn’t met with the same quizzical look. The man in black’s eyes were burning a hole through the cheap upholstery. He knew. The CMEslinger thought and thought and thought, before—voila—it finally dawned on him.
“Wait, you don’t think…” the CMEslinger said.
“I do. It’s the only possible solution. Why do you think I came to you in the first place? It’s certainly not because I admire your investigative skills. In your current state, you couldn’t figure out who picked up your trash this morning even if the truck was idling down the block.”
The man in black paused for a minute to let it all sink in.
“Get your coat. Let’s go see your daughter.”
CMEPALOOZA 