“Not at all,” I tell her.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” she asks.
“No, we’re just talking,” I answer.
“You sure?” Yuri asks.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “Why?”
“Because you’ve got part of a condom wrapper on the floor behind you,” she says, before leaving my office and closing the door.
***
Yuri’s kind enough not to say anything as Grace is leaving the office, but as soon as I’m done with my next appointment, I can’t get her to shut up about any of it.
“So, is that the kind of treatment all of your patients can expect from here on out, or just the pretty ones?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I answer. “What’s next?”
“Inpatient rounds,” she says. “So, does this mean the two of you are a couple now?”
“We haven’t really talked about it,” I tell her, “but I think that’s the way we’re both leaning, yes.”
“That’s good,” she says, “you know, if you don’t think about how bad it is.”
“What do you mean? I thought you liked Grace.”
“I do like Grace. I just don’t like seeing you try to win some kind of record for most ways to get your license revoked.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I tell her.
“Whatever you say, boss,” Yuri says, and hands me the inpatients’ charts. “Mr. Hollingsworth says his pain is coming back and Laney Michaels is scared about her radiation treatment tomorrow. Maybe you can talk to her.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Thanks.”
I glance over the files a moment and then walk out into the hall.
Mr. Hollingsworth is already maxed out on his morphine drip and there’s really not much else I can do for him. That’s not what’s got me nervous right now, though.
What has me nervous is Laney.
Although I’ve only been in this hospital for a couple of years, there’s not much left that really gets to me.
There are still things here and there that catch me off guard, like Mrs. Probst dying in my office right in the middle of our conversation, but the one thing that’s consistently hard for me to deal with is working with terminal children.
Laney’s scared, and what she’s afraid of is certainly a lot more significant than anything I’ve ever experienced, but nothing makes a person want to hang it up quicker than knowing a child is going to die, no matter what you do.
All anyone can really do is to try and teach them how to deal with the reality of their own death: something no 7-year-old should ever have to experience.
I’m not only nervous, but intimidated, as I know for a fact that that little girl and the dozens of others I’ve already treated, and the hundreds I’m likely to treat throughout my career, possess a level of strength and maturity I never will.
The important thing, though, is to never let the kids or their parents see that. They’ve all got enough on their minds without having to worry about the emotional state of their doctor.
I do my job no matter who the patient is, but I always try to go that extra mile for people like Laney.
My phone rings as I’m approaching Mr. Hollingsworth’s room.
It’s Yuri.