Within weeks of taking over the reigns of that department, I discovered internal stealing by the office manager, several non-boarded anesthesiologists practicing the poorest quality of medicine, and systemic evidence of Medicare fraud.  My efforts to improve the quality of medicine made small gains, but were mostly met with resistance. Because a sizable percentage of the hospital's medical staff were not board-certified in their specialty, they feared any sweeping movement for change that could threaten their positions.  The hospital dismissed the office manager, but its VP for medical affairs refused to push for legal redress against the former employee because it would "reflect poorly on me, the vice president." 

In what would prove to be a five-year mission, fraught with local political pressure (intended, it appeared, to protect the reputation of the larger health system that owned the hospital), my Medicare fraud lawsuit against that hospital--and on behalf of the U.S. Government--was settled.  The CEO had been forced to resign, and the hospital admitted wrongdoing in its settlement in 2005.  Although I quickly sought an exit strategy from that flawed institution, and left 18 months after starting, I consider my efforts successful, at least, in putting an end to health insurance fraud. 

Looking back on that hospital experience, however, I remember a day that is now seared in my memory--the day we were attacked by Al Qaeda.  On September 11, 2001, on that hospital's seventh-floor, in a grungy staff lounge, several Middle-Eastern physicians stood around the lone television and cheered.  I had been in the operating room, but was quickly informed about the series of attacks on American soil that were unfolding.  The cheering doctors, who happened to be foreign-trained surgeons from Islamic countries, were commenting:  "the U.S. is getting what they deserve...let's see what these Jew-lovers have to say now."  My heart sank; I felt sicker than any patient I had ever seen recovering from anesthesia.  The horror and loss of innocent life, coupled with a sense of fear from terrorist sympathizers who were standing just a few feet away, was unbearable.  I wanted to get away, but I couldn't; I had to return to the operating room for more cases.  I wanted to go home, grab my family and run for safety, but I was trapped at work with people who hated me and wanted my country destroyed. 

Those doctors who jumped for joy upon seeing the carnage of the Twin Towers in New York, and the attack on the Pentagon, are still among us.  To them, the glory of our open, democratic society is not seen as a national treasure, but merely an opportunity to undermine our national security.  They are not seeking to graciously assimilate and contribute to American culture, but rather to stand apart and secretly plot against it.  The terrorist sympathizers are just as dangerous as the terrorists themselves--they sap our resources and wait for an opportune moment when we are vulnerable.   They are not unlike the recent UK terrorists, who we now know were all healthcare workers (7 doctors and 1 laboratory worker). 

Today, more that ever before in our country's history, we must resolve to look beyond our political parties and jointly face the foe of radical Islam.  This is not a slur against Muslims or a particular nationality.  It is a stark picture of the intentions of the fundamentalist Islamist movement.  These individuals seek to infiltrate and overthrow our way of life--killing whoever stands in their way.  Our nation's next major foreign policy priority might be the Islamic Republic of Iran, whose radical clerics would like to ignite a nuclear holocaust against Israeli, European and American targets if given the chance.  We cannot make the mistake that Chamberlain made before WWII, and we cannot afford to underestimate the evils evident in today's world.    

Three thousand United States citizens were slaughtered on 9-11-01.  On that fateful day, foreign doctors stood on American soil--with work VISAs and an opportunity for a better life in hand--and rejoiced.