It is May 2005, and a monstrous slow-moving hurricane Katrina is bearing down on the Gulf Coast of the USA, with the lives and livelihoods of millions squarely in her sights. The ensuing disaster is of a scale far beyond the preparations of individuals and communities whipped by her winds or flooded by her rains and sea surge. Holed up in his office equipped with sleeping bag, bags of Chex Mix, and Gatorade, Dr. Johnson bravely attempts to help care for the patients remaining in the hospital, but the laboratory ultimately succumbs to the darkness following loss of power and failure of flooded generators. His multihospital practice group with their simple condo-style first floor office is likewise ruined and the practice records are totally destroyed by the storm. The duration and extent of devastation mean that they will not have any income beyond whatever receivables are electronically deposited for a very long time ahead. Once the moral demands of the acute situation are attended to and they are able to regroup in some form, Dr. Johnson and his fellow pathologists determine that their best choice is to close the practice and reestablish their lives elsewhere. However, they soon discover that the gap in records and the inability of many of their former credentialing hospitals to respond that they were in good standing have placed them in a very unenviable position of waiting for exceptions to policy, response from nonexistent medical staff offices, and the like.