Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
A murmur of agreement rippled through the now-weary twenty-five of us.
“Let’s start with general surgery,” she said.
I was the second name she read off the list. Veronica the third.
“Eeek,” Veronica whispered from beside me. “We’re together.”
“And fewer nights,” I said. I didn’t think I’d end up a surgeon, but I was prepared to keep an open mind and give it my all.
After all the rotations were announced and we got answers to questions about various administrative issues, Wanda said, “If there’s nothing else, we can get back to it.”
Gilly’s hand shot straight up into the air.
Wanda nodded.
“When are the interim announcements for the foundation award?”
Wanda narrowed her eyes. “The foundation award being . . . the award that’s given to the most promising foundation doctor at the end of the program?” Her smile widened and she shook her head.
“Yes,” Gilly said. “I heard there was going to be an interim announcement.”
“There’s no interim announcement. I can’t believe that rumor is still in circulation. I’m here to tell you that not only are there no interim announcements, there is no award at the end of the two years. We’re not in competition with each other. The only person you need to be competing with is yourself. You will all have some skills that are more developed than others. Some of you will naturally gravitate to certain specialisms and some of you will be good at most things. There is no one-size-fits-all doctor and there is no one-size-fits-no-one prize. Hospital medicine is all about working in teams—teams of doctors, nurses, radiographers, porters, admin staff—you name it. And it’s also about working between our disciplines. There’s no award because it makes no sense to single people out. Will there be stars of the year? For some, probably. Will there be late developers? Yes, indeed. Will there be oddballs and misfits and thinkers and doers? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. We welcome you all. A hospital needs lots of different brains and abilities to be able to function.
“I don’t want to hear about competition anymore. I want to hear about cooperation. About learning. About development. I want you all to push yourselves to be the very best doctors you can be. That, as far as I’m concerned, is the best award you’ll ever receive.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. All these people had been focused on a reward that didn’t even exist.
It didn’t change anything for me. And it didn’t change anything between Jacob and me. I didn’t want my professional success questioned because I happened to be in a relationship with such a high-profile consultant.
Foundation award or not, Jacob and I simply weren’t meant to be.
Thirty-Four
Sutton
Wearing woolen mittens in summer was just plain wrong. So was ice-skating. But here Parker, Tristan, and I were, doing both.
“I haven’t skated since I was a kid. And it shows.” It had been the Christmas before the divorce—the last time I felt like I had a family. After the split I remember watching other families having fun and thinking how I wished I could turn the clock back.
But going back wasn’t possible. Not ever. I just had to make the best of what I had and plow forward.
“Can we get a hotdog?” Tristan asked as he came up behind us, clinging onto the three-foot-high penguin meant to help the smaller kids stay upright. “This is the worst idea ever.”
“Hey,” Parker said. “This was my idea.”
“It wasn’t your best,” I said.
“You hated the ropes course at first and you loved it by the end.”
“No, I was grateful to be alive at the end. There’s a very distinct difference.”
Parker groaned and led us all off the rink, towards the queue for hot dogs.
“But at least it took your mind off things for a bit,” Parker said.
“That’s true. My mind was fully occupied with the idea that my future career options could be narrowed with a broken wrist or severed spinal cord.”
Tristan ordered our food and we found a bench facing the rink. “I don’t think ice-skating is my kind of sport.”
“I don’t think it counts as a sport if you use the penguin,” I said, taking a seat one side of Parker. Tristan was on the other.
“Next time you break up with someone,” Tristan said. “I suggest we get a villa in Spain or something. Or maybe go wine tasting in the Loire.” He bit into his hotdog.
“Good to know you’re planning the aftermath of my next relationship,” I said. “But I opt for wine in France, if I get a say.”
“It’s a deal.” He held out his hand and I shook it.
“Don’t I get a say?” Parker asked.
“No,” Tristan and I chorused.
We watched the skaters as they made their way around the rink. Some were clearly more expert than others. The kids were the fastest—unaware of the danger they were facing with every move they made.