Forbidden Diagnosis, Some Wounds Medicine Can't Heal
n
wake. I wanted to throw it out of the window, and
to each other and sprinting around like the
h knew that if caffeine didn't enter our system in the next five minu
tal, running purely on coffee a
t impossibly grumpy
, glasses, waits for us. Good-looking in a Clark Kent–if-he-were-two-inches-shorter ki
kes before we've even had our ID badges scanned,
ghtly for someone who'd clearly been awake longer than us. "You've got
a
ar
ta
enta
nt. Zero tolerance for bullshit. Doesn't do small talk. Don't be late, don't be
nd just when I thought I couldn't feel more pressure, he added, "Your eva
My brain sh
mental door I had, locked them, and threw th
thoughts during working hours. I had a professional
ays, "and you'll liv
n me, asks when we'll g
t month. Maybe by the third rota
Start at zero, cli
us to patients, explaining what to watch for, and throwing little tests our way. I liked him; he was kind in t
, coffee cups, pagers, people rushing in every direction. Elevator doors k
hair. Comma
ircuiting of my nervous sy
ic about this man. I had a feel
ng me, I knew it was
em, third and fourth year residents, a couple of second ye
rapid fire questions. By R
ice low, steady, professiona
p again. My brain froze for half a
le meningioma, based on MRI frontal lobe involvement that wou
Approval. T
match the scan
"How would you prep t
th a quick, almost impercept
once or twice, not unfriendly. I could've sworn there was the faintest spark of curiosity th
are over. My pulse is still racing, but for
more charts, quick sips of cold coffee, and the faint buzz of hospital
onfuses the
it's your one sh
page. The sound made the hallway still for half a breath before the staff sprinted toward the bay. Dr. Wilson told us to stay
ping, nurses shouting vitals, instruments clatte
ing to his rhythm like he was conducti
t, I forgot
oked like. Not arrogance
ike I'd been carrying bricks, and my stomach was making sounds I didn't know were humanly possible.
l sta
ay leaning against the door
pite my exhaustion. "Coffee a
, genuine. "You'
ike that,
e sound of his laugh in my head. It wasn't like Felix's polished charm or the way he
t quitting medicine and immediately fell asleep on the couch. I sat there staring at my stained scrubs, aching feet, and messy handwriti
elt something
victory in a mountain of challenges waiting ahead. I survived it. I
arving, and delirio
ng while, I felt like I was ex