Forbidden Diagnosis, Some Wounds Medicine Can't Heal

n

around me

n in scrubs, no, scratch tha

rotations, even conferences, but no one has e

as thinking about his mother and how stunning she is and how I might have a

myself t

ush. If he ever found out, he could fire me on the spot. He has the power,

the director has stopped talking unti

er than I'd like to admit. I blink too fast and bite th

Isn't he a sight for sore eyes

o look at him again, but I can't n

to scream like some unhin

definitely

ourself if your ovaries explode r

steady, the kind of voice that

ought is enough to douse the hormones current

much it feels like the awkward nerd meeting the

corridors. He's my senior attending, might be my supervisor, and I have to remembe

he doesn't talk long. When he finishes, I

harge, he asks us to collect our assigned rotas and follow th

n't be in the s

in the core-surgical progra

me, tall, with an air of authority, dark glowing skin, the most beautifu

rs in this hospit

t I'm no legacy and my mother isn't a doctor. No one in my family

ear is going to go. We'll be working thirty-six- to forty-hour shi

, Anya, I mock myself

oning look. I mouth nothing as we

hospital is a maze. I'm probably going

ts, smelling of bleach and disinfectant, watching the mix of h

doesn't waver

sadness, hope and despair, sickne

g I have, because I'm not a quitter. This is wha

n scrubs fade from my mind...

equal parts awe and resolve, laced

ue. I tell her about my situation, and just as quickly as she too

rtment near the hospital and

ettled sooner

ause starting at 5 a.m. tomorrow we b

ward patients, supervised by a four

aro and drive to the motel to collect her things. Moving is harder than expected

laughter, from where we grew up to favour

or the next day with that goo