Page 17 of The Bitter Rival

“Only about a month, and I’m done. I can’t believe it.”

“I can believe it. You can do anything you put your mind to.” He winks. God, I love that guy.

“Bella still needs a clavicle x-ray. Let us know if you have anyone who might need one,” Mike advises.

“Sure thing.” Donovan waves as he walks to the ambulance bay doors to greet a paramedic pushing a gurney through the doors with a very pregnant female on the stretcher. I instinctively place my hand over my belly, feeling forlorn that those days are over for me now.

Sebastian

I still cannot believe it. Week after week, I sit talking to a bartender like a stereotypical middle-aged man looking for the meaning of life. Yet, all the while, she was here under my nose. What’s worse, my stressful OR life has just become ten times worse.

I can’t believe I couldn’t get my head out of my ass to control my temper while the patient was awake and listening to me rant like a spoiled brat. No surgical tools had hit the floor. Other than almost tripping over that stool, the case had gone better than most of late. My fear of what could go wrong has turned me into a tyrant. I know my behavior is escalating. The concern over the success of my surgical cases while tired and stressed has me so on edge, I would’ve snapped at one of the chaplains if they’d been there. I’ve clearly become unhinged.

I rub the back of my neck, still sore from the stress of my morning, as I walk to the recovery room. As I approach the nurses’ station, the women on duty all instantly stop speaking. This isn’t new. Yet, this occurrence doesn’t appear to be an attempt to win my attention. None of them is smiling.Shit. I guess everyone knows how I behaved earlier. I need to face the music.

“Hi. Is Mr. Hansen doing okay?’ I ask. I don’t anticipate he’ll need to remain in the recovery room long. Unfortunately, he’ll need to stay in the hospital to receive intravenous antibiotics but likely will be home very soon.

“Yes, sir. He’s doing fine,” a blonde nurse wearing navy blue scrubs answers. There isn’t the flirty smile I’ve received in the past. But then again, I probably look like I’ve been hit by a truck after the day I’ve had.

Walking over to the patient’s stretcher, I greet him and sit down beside him. Gathering my thoughts for a second, I decide to go all in. “Mr. Hansen. I need to offer my sincere apologies for my behavior earlier. It was completely unprofessional, and there is no excuse for the way I acted.”

“You’re right, son. There isn’t.”

Hanging my head in shame, I try to find words to salvage this shitty situation. But before I can open my mouth to speak, I’m interrupted.

“You have a reputation,” he states, making me wince. “Let me start over. You have a good reputation. I knew I was in good hands today. I know your job is stressful, so I tried to explain away your behavior. However, there’s more to a man than his work and reputation.” He pauses, looking at me with the eyes of a loving parent instead of a patient. “Please forgive an old man for butting in.”

“No forgiveness needed. You have every right to voice your opinion. You were a witness to my unprofessional behavior. As I said, there’s no excuse for it. I’ve piled too much on my plate, covering for another surgeon while he’s away. Several of my recent cases at this hospital haven’t gone smoothly. Don’t misunderstand. They were all successful, but it hasn’t been smooth. I, unfortunately, brought my concerns into the surgical suite today. Then on top of that, I didn’t find out until this morning who you were.”

Mr. Hansen looks at me mystified until he realizes I’m speaking of his pseudonym. “Ah, you found out you were operating on R. B. Garland. I’m sorry. I’ve told my story to so many people. Between the EMTs, nurses, and ER physician, I just assumed you knew.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault, Mr. Hansen. If it weren’t for recent events, I would’ve laughed it off afterward. But with the tension so high already, it was just one more thing on my shoulders.” I pause for a moment, wondering if I should proceed after what he already thinks of my behavior. I’m surprised he didn’t dismiss me immediately. “Do you mind my asking why you use R. B. Garland?”

“Haven’t been asked that in a while,” he answers sheepishly. “I’m a bit of an introvert. I’ve always fancied myself a creative type. But that wasn’t respected in my family. I grew up in a long line of businessmen. It was expected I’d graduate college and work in the family business. Yet, I didn’t enjoy that line of work. Worse, I didn’t enjoy talking to people about business.”

Sitting taller in the chair beside him, I’m awestruck by our commonality.

“It was made clear to me that if I pursued a career in the arts, I’d be doing it of my own accord. I was essentially shunned by my family from that moment on. They said I’d never make anything of myself.”

“Well, it appears you showed them.”

“They don’t know,” he answers.

“I’m sorry. What do you mean? Everyone in town knows who R. B. Garland is,” I answer, shocked.

“My family doesn’t know that I’m R. B. Garland. My success or failure is none of their concern. I did this for me. Once they made their decision to disassociate themselves, I changed my name.”

“Wow. Thank you for sharing that with me. I have a similar situation with my family. They wanted me in the family business, but when I chose to walk away and follow a career in medicine, they cut me off financially. They haven’t shut me out of the family. That was more my doing, given their toxic lifestyle. But I’m glad they know I’ve done well without them.” I pause, reflecting on my situation more than I’ve allowed in recent years. “I guess I had a chip on my shoulder.”

Looking over to this kindhearted man, I see one eyebrow raised at me. “Okay, so I still have a chip on my shoulder.”

“You’re learning. You need to make peace with that situation. Don’t let others define you. You have enough riding on you with your work. Do you want to know how I chose R. B. Garland?”

“Yes, I’d love to.”

“RB Garland is short for Ralph Bernard Garland. Ralph, Bernard, and Judy coined three of my favorite quotes. I always appreciated the motivation they provided. They stuck with me.”

I glance at him inquisitively, silently hoping for more.

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