The Doctor's Undoing

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 better 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?”