Page 67 of Falling into Place
“Should we take some dinner up to Dad?”
“I left a sandwich outside his room an hour ago.”
“Should I go check to see if he ate it?”
“I don’t know. I think he just wants to be left alone.”
—Conversation between Sasha and Brooks Martin, senior year
Brooks tended to get lost in his work when he was in the unit. It was one of his favorite things about the job. When he swiped his badge and walked through the self-propelled double doors, he could leave everything else behind for a little while.
Memories.
Regrets.
Thoughts of doing things to Carly Porter he had no business entertaining.
All things that kept him up at night, and that he welcomed a reprieve from.
But doing so also meant he got a little intense about certain tasks, which was why that Monday morning he was trying to look up lab results on his phone while power walking down the hall and ran smack into someone. Automatically, he put a hand out, his fingers grasping a feminine shoulder. “Whoa, sorry.”
“That’s okay—oh, Dr. Martin! Hi.”
Nikki, one of the new critical-care fellows he’d met when he led their orientation a few weeks ago, smiled up at him.
He dropped his arm and slid his phone into the pocket of his white coat. “Hey, Nikki. How’s everything going so far?”
“Good, just finishing up with all the onboarding stuff. I start my first month in cardio with Stetman next week.”
He winced. Stetman was a real asshole to the first-years. Brooks swore the man got off on making sure each of them cried at least twice before he was finished with them. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’m actually on my way to Schwartz Rounds. Are you heading that way? I could save you a seat.”
He frowned a little, trying to place the name. He’d heard of it but couldn’t quite remember what it was. “Schwartz Rounds?”
“Oh, have you never gone before? It’s where providers get together to discuss recent patient experiences that meant a lot to them, or that were especially hard for them. Share how they felt about it, that kind of thing. We had them at my residency program, and I never missed one.”
He remembered now. The second he’d seen the description as a place where health care workers could “discuss emotional issues they face,” he’d deleted the email. “Nah, I don’t go to those.”
“Why not?”
“I guess I’m not really into all that touchy-feely stuff.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
He gave her a strange look. The way she’d said that sounded like it was something she expected of him, but that was impossible. They barely knew each other.
She winced. “Sorry, that didn’t sound right. It’s just ... well, you know. The fellows talk. Us first-years ask the seconds and thirds about the attendings. Ask what we need to know, right? Like who’s gonna grill us about the patient in front of the entire crew, or who’s obsessed with local antibiotic resistance patterns. I like to make a good first impression, so I wanted all the dirt.”
He blinked, considering the connection in her words. “So the dirt on me is that I never show up to Schwartz Rounds?”
“No. They just said you’re pretty straightforward as a physician. Everyone says you’re a great doctor and take good care of patients. You’re just not one of the emotional ones who likes to connect with your patients or their families.” She squinted her eyes a little, as if trying to ascertain if she’d upset him. “They didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”
“That I don’t like to connect with my patients doesn’t sound like a bad thing?”
“Not necessarily. There are tons of doctors like you. Some are the best ones in the field. And to be honest, I get it. Especially in critical care, when we know we won’t see all our patients walk out of here, there has to be some level of detachment to stay professional and avoid burnout.” She shrugged. “Maybe one day I’ll get there, too, but for now, tapping into the human, emotional part is what I love most. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one feeling a certain way, you know? I like to lean on my colleagues on the hard days.”
When he had a hard day, he just forced it down and went about his business. He’d learned the hard way that when things got tough, he just had to keep going and get through it. “Everyone finds what works for them, I guess.”
