The Doctor's Undoing (Doctors in Training 3)

“I’m not entirely sure I do want to mend those fences,” he said gently. “Not every family unit is worth saving.”

Haley sighed a little and shook her head. “I don’t believe in giving up.”

He laughed softly, grabbed her wrist and tugged her down on the couch beside him. “I know. You’ve been saying that to me for two and a half years.”

Steadying herself with a hand against his chest, she laughed ruefully. “Sorry. It just slipped out.”

“No need to apologize. I’m glad you’re the type who never gives up.” Especially on him, he added silently as his lips covered hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, snuggling closer for the very thorough kiss. After a few long, delectable moments, she squirmed as if in discomfort, and he loosened his grasp.

Pulling her mouth from his, she glanced downward, then looked up with a smile that made his heart stutter.

“I have always wanted to say this,” she said, trying to keep a straight face. “Is that a gun in your pocket or—”

“—I am very happy to see you,” he said with a laugh, swooping in for another kiss.

Relieved to put thoughts of families and holidays aside, he laughed with her as they worked together to extricate him from the holster, their hands fumbling, then lingering. There was plenty of time for serious talk later. For now, he was just going to enjoy.

Haley discovered quickly that the surgery rotation was as exhausting as Anne had warned.

Out of the four choices Haley had been given—trauma, surgical oncology, VA and peds—she had marked trauma as her first choice, thinking she would see the biggest variety and learn the most on that block. Ron had selected surgical oncology as his first choice. Which didn’t surprise her, really. She had noticed his fascination with hematology and oncology, though he hadn’t openly declared that was the specialty he wanted to pursue. Specifically, she thought he was interested in pediatrics hem-onc.

Why wouldn’t he just admit it? Was he afraid to say what he really wanted, in case he didn’t get it? Or was he just hesitant to commit himself to any specific path at this point?

Shouldn’t she know him well enough to have those answers by now?

They’d both gotten their first choices, so the surgeries they witnessed were quite different, though their schedules were very similar.

Wearing scrubs, Haley arrived at the hospital before five every morning to see her assigned patients. Between six and six-thirty, she went on rounds with the resident and attending surgeon. Between seven and seven-thirty, she scrubbed in for surgeries. The scrubbing was a lengthy and meticulous process, after which she had to hold her gloved hands above her belly button line. If she dropped her hands below that zone, she was no longer sterile and had to rescrub. It was so easy to let her hands fall accidentally; she had to pay a lot of attention to their placement, though she was assured it would come more naturally with practice.

During the surgeries, she served as second assistant. The res

ident was first assistant. As a student, Haley was allowed to hold the retractors and occasionally hand an instrument to the Registered Nurse. With the surgeon, resident, R.N. and scrub tech surrounding the patient, not counting the anesthesiologist at the patient’s head, the student had the worst view of the entire procedure, but Haley was still fascinated by it all. Sometimes after a routine surgery, the attending surgeon would leave the resident to close, and Haley became first assistant. Her resident was quite nice, and allowed Haley to tie a few sutures, which was especially exciting for her.

After surgeries, she checked on her patients again and did afternoon rounds. Sometimes there were afternoon surgeries to scrub in on. She was also expected to see her patients on weekends. Once a week, there were grand rounds, at which she had to dress in professional clothing and her white coat rather than the comfortable scrubs.

Though the med students put in long hours on this rotation, surgical residents practically lived at the hospital, putting in eighty hours a week and having to rush to get all their responsibilities crammed into that legally mandated time frame. She’d lucked out on her resident again. Mike Stanfield was a pleasant, second-year resident who hadn’t yet allowed himself to adopt the all-too-common surgeon’s egotism. He was as susceptible to a surgical resident’s exhaustion and stress as his peers, but he wasn’t as prone as some to take out his problems on the staff and students surrounding him.

Ron hadn’t been as fortunate. His resident, Paul Singer, was a…well, a jerk was the only description that came to Haley’s mind when she thought of him. Arrogant, intoxicated with what he saw as the power of his long white coat, abusive to anyone he considered his inferior—which were most of the people around him, including the patients. He made no secret of the fact that he’d chosen medicine primarily because he liked the salary potential, and surgery because he didn’t have to spend a lot of time with conscious patients. Like the other surgical residents, he was overworked and under-rested, but he directed his anger toward the nurses and med students.

Singer particularly disliked Ron, because Ron made no pretense of being either impressed by him or intimidated by him. He treated Singer with the same easy manner as he did everyone else, giving him the professional courtesy he deserved, but refusing to be browbeaten by him.

“The guy has it in for me,” Ron admitted to Haley after one particularly rough day. “He deliberately bumped into me and made me break the sterile field to steady myself, then yelled at me for being an idiot and not knowing how to stand in an O.R.. This after he dropped a retractor and blamed the scrub tech for it. Doing everything he could to make everyone else look like idiots in front of the attending.”

“Jerk.” Haley nestled more snugly into his shoulder on her couch, offering comfort with a hug. “What did the attending do?”

Ron shrugged. “Dr. Rankin pretty much ignores him. Either she’s just used to the guy or she doesn’t really care how he acts. I can’t get a handle on what she’s thinking. She doesn’t say much. Just does the cutting, barks out instructions, then leaves Paul to close up and abuse the help. She’s not outright rude to anyone, the way Singer is, but she’s not overly friendly, either. I’ll just be glad when I’m off this team.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I’ll probably get crappy evals from them, especially since Singer hates me. No telling what he’s saying about me to Rankin behind my back.”

“I hope it won’t be too bad. As hard as it must be, you need to try to get along with Singer while you’re on his team.”

“I’m not the one being a jackass,” Ron answered flatly. “I’ll do my job, but I won’t kiss up to the idiot. But I’ll also try not to take a swing at him, the way I hear one nurse did recently.”

She winced. “Male or female nurse?”