Medical research doctor in rural California finds herself on an entirely different path after the sudden death of her partner and husband; she takes a temporary job as physician in a general practitioner's office in Chicago, quickly bonding with the staff and one particular leukemia patient. She bristles a bit under the watchful eye of her new boss (their smooth-and-sandpaper relationship is pure formula), but learns from her new experiences and surroundings. TV-made drama from Spelling-Goldberg Productions tosses off the medical jargon with matter-of-fact ease, yet the movie fights a facile, plastic coating the entire way. Susan Hayward (in what became her final performance) does well in the lead; she's direct and no-nonsense while also harboring a deeply sentimental side, mixing laughter and tears often in the same scene. Her patients have to learn to live with seeing a female doctor (shades of 1972), but the issue isn't made out to be a big deal and, for the most part, the scenario isn't too dated. The slums of Chicago are barely dramatized (this looks more like Los Angeles, anyway), but Hayward keeps smiling, keeps showing true grit, enough to convince us she's up to her pretty neck in patients and past grievances. Dusty Springfield sings the woozily theatrical theme song--which is blared too soon near the film's opening, though rendered suitable towards the finish.
