by Gina Wilkins
When all the patients had been seen, Dr. Cudahy led them to a conference room for a teaching session. The residents and students followed like ducklings trailing a mother duck—which was the way Ron had come to think of them during the past week. Dr. Cudahy had informed them yesterday that she would be discussing hospital-acquired infection today. The students had been expected to research the subject on their own last night so they could participate in an intelligent discussion of the subject. Ron had spent several hours in front of his computer and textbooks, and hoped he would be ready if the attending tried to trip him up with a difficult question.
He took this training more seriously than some people gave him credit for, he thought with another glance at Haley.
Haley was tired when she arrived home, but that was nothing new. She would take the weariness after a long day on the wards any time over the grueling schedule of classes and exams that had made up the first two years of medical school.
Pulling the band from her hair, she shook her head to loosen her tidy bob and headed straight for the kitchen in search of something cold to drink. Her apartment was an older one, and the appliances were almost as old, but at least the aging fridge worked well enough to keep her sodas cold, she thought, taking a big swallow of a diet lemon-lime beverage. The citrusy liquid flooded her throat with a satisfying bite, somewhat reviving her after being out in the heat of an Arkansas late-July afternoon. She’d grown up in this state, so she was accustomed to the oppressive, humid summer temperatures, but she still preferred the crisp, cool days of autumn.
Her phone rang just as she dropped onto her couch to prop up her aching feet for a few minutes before she made dinner. Seeing her mother’s number on the ID screen, she smiled when she answered. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
Haley’s parents still lived in Russellville where Haley had grown up, a one-hour or so drive from Haley’s Little Rock apartment complex. An only child, she was especially close with her mother, and they talked and saw each other as often as they could considering their hectic schedules. Her parents ran a busy restaurant, Pasta Wright, in Russellville, which kept them both running pretty much 24/7. Haley had worked in that establishment, herself, during her senior year of high school and for two years afterward before starting college, so she knew exactly how hard those days could be, though her parents still loved the work.
Her mom adored hearing about Haley’s medical school experiences. Janice Wright had always encouraged her daughter to pursue any career she desired. She wanted Haley always to be able to take care of herself, to be a modern, independent woman with many roads open to her. Haley’s dad had been just as encouraging for her to go after her dreams, pushing her out of the restaurant and into college as soon as they were all sure the restaurant venture would survive.
Her parents had offered to support her financially during her medical education by getting another mortgage on the house that was already collateral for their business, but she had refused to allow them to make that sacrifice. She would get by on loans, she assured them. If she was going to be an independent woman, she might as well start now.
“Have you heard any more from that young man you were dating last month?” her mother asked as the conversation wound down. “Kris?”
“No, Mom. I won’t be hearing from Kris anymore. I heard he’s seeing someone else now.”
“And you’re really okay with that? You seemed so fond of him.”
“I was fond of him. He’s a great guy. But it was never serious. We were just friends, hanging out and having a little fun. And it was my decision to go our separate ways. I’m staying busy with this rotation. After this one, I have pediatrics and then surgery, which involves really long hours. I just didn’t have the time or energy to devote to Kris—or anyone else—right now.”
Haley had known from the start that Kris wouldn’t be in her life for long. After dating him only a few months, she had tactfully informed him it wasn’t fair to him to continue the way they had been, with her too busy to see him regularly and too distracted by thoughts of school when they were together. When he hadn’t even bothered to argue, she’d realized that he was rather relieved she had made that decision for them. It wasn’t giving up, she assured herself, when that outcome had been predetermined from the beginning.
“Well—just remember you can’t work all the time. Have some fun when you can.”
Her mom had warned her several times that, as important as her career might be, it shouldn’t be the only thing in Haley’s life. One must stay balanced, she counseled, with family and other interests to fill the hours away from work.
“I’ll try to take a little time off when I can, Mom.”
Not that there was much time to take. Even with the first two years behind her, the next two would be busy in their own way. Long hours in rotations, preparing for Step 2 of the licensure exams, applying and interviewing for residency programs. Becoming the physician she wanted to be.
When the time was right, she would find someone to share her life with, Haley assured herself. In her experience, everything had a way of working out as it was meant to.
Which sentiment would only give Ron more reason to tease her about her “optimistic cheerleader” attitude, she thought with a grimace as she and her mom concluded their call.
She wondered impatiently why thoughts of Ron had popped into her head at just that moment.
As they had vowed to try to do regularly during the remainder of medical school, the study group members met for dinner after work the following week, a rare evening when all five were free for a couple of hours. It still felt odd to Ron not to see his friends in classes every day. Though they stayed in touch, this was the first time they’d all been able to get together to compare notes on their rotations that had started two weeks earlier.
Anne’s husband, Liam, and Connor’s wife, Mia, had been invited to join them this evening, but Liam was out of town on business, as he so often was, and Mia had opted to see a movie with her stepdaughter, instead. Ron suspected she’d done so to give the group a chance to share tales about their rotation experiences without worrying if they were boring her with their shoptalk.
They sat in a big, round booth with plates of seafood and glasses of wine on the table in front of them. “How are your rotations going?” Ron asked, including everyone in the question.
Connor Hayes spoke first. The father of eight-year-old Alexis, Connor had just celebrated his first wedding anniversary with Mia. Ron had attended that wedding, as had the other members of their group.
“I’m enjoying geriatrics,” Connor said. “Had my second hospice visit this afternoon. I can see how much good the hospice teams do for the families in the end stages of their loved ones’ lives. I really admire the ones who do it every day, especially the volunteers.”
“Are you considering geriatrics now?” Anne asked him.
Smiling, Connor shook his head. “Still planning family practice. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and I doubt I’ll change my mind during rotations.”
“My psych rotation is pretty interesting, but it’s not on my list of possible specialties,” James Stillman commented. “I don’t mind it for this six weeks, but I think I’ll be ready to move on to something else by the time the rotation ends.”
Twenty-nine-year-old James had already earned a doctorate in microbiology before he’d entered medical school. He had said once that he kept going to school to put off committing to any particular career, a sentiment Ron had laughingly agreed with.
After dropping out of college his first semester after high school, Ron had drifted for a couple of years, trying several unsuccessful jobs before deciding to give college another try. Applying himself to his studies that time, he had done well enough in his classes—particularly his science classes—that his faculty advisor had encouraged him to consider medical school. Ron had taken the MCAT, the medical school admissions exam, half expecting he wouldn’t do well enough to even be considered. No one had be
en more startled than him when he’d received a very high score.
Well—maybe his family had been more surprised. His dad had predicted Ron would drop out of medical school when it got too tough. His mother had worried aloud that Ron wasn’t doctor material, and that he’d only been setting himself up for disappointment. None of his siblings thought he’d ever make anything of himself; they’d expected him to settle for the same aimless and unfulfilling existence they led themselves.
He’d made it through the interviews and had been placed on the alternates list for admission. Even then, he’d waited to be told that he hadn’t made it in. Apparently, enough first-choice applicants had declined to open up a slot for him. Rather dazed to have gotten that far, he’d secured his loans and shown up for classes—only to be slammed by the reality of the commitment he had made when he found out just how hard medical school really was. He’d been unprepared for the long hours, the constant stress, the sleep deprivation, the massive amounts of information he had been expected to learn and access on demand. Several times, he’d almost chucked it all and taken to his heels.
Only a few things had kept him on course. His pride, which had made him reluctant to admit to his family that they’d been right about him not being cut out to be a doctor. His deep desire to enter a career in which he felt he could make a difference in other people’s lives. And the people of his close-knit and incredibly encouraging study group—including Haley, whose refusal to let anyone around her concede defeat had been as inspiring as it was irritating at times.
Maybe at the back of his mind he’d kept the comforting thought that he could always move on to something else if this didn’t work out. His life wouldn’t end if he didn’t become a doctor. He’d survive if he didn’t pass the next test, or score high enough on Step 1 of the national medical licensing exam. But somehow, he’d continued to pass—maybe not with the highest grades in the class, but respectably enough to remain in good standing. And he’d passed Step 1, news he had learned only days earlier. So, it seemed that he might just become a doctor, after all.
Amazing.
“If not psychiatry, have you given any more thought to what type of medicine you want to practice, James?” Haley asked curiously. “Have you narrowed the choices down since the last time we all got together?”
Connor was the only one in the group who seemed certain about his area of specialty. He’d intended from the start to practice family medicine. Anne had entered school saying she wanted to be a surgeon like her father, grandfather and brother; now she said she might be interested in obstetrics and gynecology, which would include some surgery.
James, Haley and Ron had all kept their options open, for various reasons. Ron because he simply didn’t know, yet, what he wanted to do. He hoped he’d figure it out sometime during rotations. He had less than a year and a half before he would start interviewing for residency programs.
James smiled wryly in response to Haley’s question. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll enter law school after I’ve earned this degree.”
Everyone laughed, as James obviously expected, but Ron wondered if there was any truth in the threat. Though Ron considered James one of his two closest male friends, he had to admit he didn’t always know what was going on in James’s head. James was friendly, generous, easy to talk to, always supportive—but private to the extent that even his friends weren’t always sure they knew him very well. Ron wouldn’t be surprised by anything James decided to do after medical school—even law school.
“What about you, Ron?” Connor asked, distracting him from his musings about James. “Reached any decisions yet?”
Ron shrugged. “Still thinking pediatrics. Or maybe geriatrics.”
Connor laughed. “Quite the range there.”
Smiling sheepishly, Ron nodded. “Yeah. I like kids and seniors. You can count on both of them to tell you what they’re really thinking.”
“Not to mention that both groups always laugh at your silly jokes,” Haley pointed out.
He grinned at her. “There’s that, too.”
“How’s it going on the VA wards?” James included both Haley and Ron in the question as he reached for his wineglass.
Ron spoke before Haley had the chance. “Haley’s excelling, of course. The most prepared, most eager and most helpful medical student on the rotation. Her resident loves her.”
Haley sighed gustily in response to Ron’s teasing.
James chuckled. “I have to admit, I miss Haley’s motivational minispeeches when I try to study by myself in the evenings to prepare for the next day’s sessions.”
Haley smiled at him. “Just give me a call whenever you need a motivating speech. I always have one or two prepared.”
“I’ll do that.” James smiled back at her, and Ron found himself having to smooth a frown, for some reason.
“Darn it.” Anne scowled down at her lap, into which she had just dropped a bite of her entrée. “Now I’ve got a splatter of sauce on my skirt. Of course it missed the napkin entirely.”
“I’ve got one of those stain removal pens in my purse,” Haley offered immediately. “Let’s go to the ladies’ room and I’ll help you.”
Anne slid toward the edge of the booth. “Thanks, Haley.”
Standing to let Anne out, Ron nodded wryly. “That’s our Haley. Always prepared for anything.”
Haley punched him in the arm when she passed him on the way to the restroom with Anne. Rubbing the stinging spot ruefully, he chuckled as he returned to his seat.
“How are the two of you getting along on the wards?” Connor asked, having watched the interplay.
“Fine,” Ron assured him. “Now that some of the pressure of exams are behind us, she’s a lot more relaxed. Not as touchy.”
Both Connor and James looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“What?”
“You’re blaming those last few months of conflict on Haley?” James asked skeptically.
“Well, maybe not all of it.” Ron took a sip of his beer to avoid meeting his friends’ eyes. “Maybe I teased her a couple of times when she wasn’t in the mood for joking.”
“And maybe you made a few cutting remarks about her boyfriend,” Connor murmured into his own glass.
“Ex-boyfriend,” Ron corrected with a scowl. “The guy was a doormat. Followed Haley around like a puppy. No personality of his own at all. I don’t know what she ever saw in him in the first place.”
The other two men exchanged an amused glance, and Ron figured they were thinking of Kris’s dimples or muscles or some of the other superficial attributes that had probably attracted Haley to the guy. Feeling his good mood begin to disintegrate, he quickly changed the subject, sharing a funny story from the wards. He was both pleased and relieved when his friends laughed and contributed a couple of amusing stories from their own experiences during the past couple of weeks, all being careful to follow privacy rules and not mention names or specifics about their patients.
Medical anecdotes he could handle. Talking about Haley and her good-looking ex-boyfriend—not so much.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better today, Ms. McMillan.” Haley smiled at the former Air Force nurse who sat in a recliner in a private room, snugly wrapped in a hospital blanket. She was still on supplemental oxygen as well as the antibiotics dripping into the IV tubing connected to her left arm, but her condition had improved considerably during the night. “It’s good that you feel well enough to sit up for a while.”
“Feels good to get out of that bed,” Georgia McMillan agreed with a firm nod of her gray head, followed by a rattling cough. Catching her breath, she eyed Haley narrowly. “Don’t smoke, do you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good. Don’t start.” She coughed more forcefully while Haley studied her chart.
“I won’t. Are you okay?”
Catching her breath, the patient waved off Haley’s question with one thin hand. “I’m as okay as I ever am these days. Feel a whole lot bette
r than I did when I was admitted, anyway.”
“That’s good to hear.” Haley jotted a couple of notes on the back of Ms. McMillan’s H & P, then folded the paper and stuck it into her coat pocket.
“You look like you got some rest last night.”
A little surprised by the comment, Haley glanced up from the patient chart. “Yes, I slept very well, thank you.”
“I remember my medical training. Ain’t easy, is it?”
Chuckling, she pulled her stethoscope from another pocket. “No, ma’am, it isn’t.”
“Just hope you never have to practice in a tent with shells exploding around you.”
“I can’t imagine working under those conditions.”
Georgia enjoyed talking about her experiences in a war zone and Haley usually liked listening to the stories. Unfortunately, she was running a little behind this morning because of complications with one of her other two patients, and she was beginning to worry she wouldn’t have her notes completed in time for rounds. She mentally crossed her fingers that Dr. Cudahy wouldn’t choose today to show up early.
She was just preparing to leave the room when Georgia startled her yet again. “Has that boy asked you out yet?”
Haley paused in midstep toward the door. “Which boy is that, Ms. McMillan?”
“That cute blondish student with the sexy smile. The one who’s always grinning at you.”
Haley laughed self-consciously. “You mean Ron? He’s a friend. A classmate. We aren’t—”
“You might not be, but he is,” Georgia cut in with a wicked smile that showed a hint of the saucy young woman she’d once been.
Smiling wryly, Haley shook her head. “You don’t see the way he acts when we’re not on rounds. He goes to great lengths to tease and torment me.”
Her patient nodded as if Haley had just confirmed her theory. “Men are still just big boys at heart. That’s his way of letting you know he’s got a crush on you.”