Page 101 of Nice Guys Don't Kiss Like That At Christmas
"Maybe I was wrong.Maybe I was at fault."
"My son told me you were stubborn but also… harder on yourself than anyone else would ever be.I think you'd have admitted to a fault."
"Maybe.Maybe not."
"Hmmm."He doesn't sound convinced.
I'm not perfect, though."I've made mistakes, you know."
He gives me a smile.“See, there you go, admitting to faults.”
“I started as a nursing assistant again.Had to rebuild trust, prove I could balance advocating for patients with following the chain of command.”I meet his eyes.“But Chuck kept practicing.His new fiancée is being considered for the Trauma Coordinator position I developed.The one with my family support protocols.”
“That must have been difficult,” Dr.Harrison Sr.says quietly.
I nod.“But it taught me something important—that sometimes good healthcare means having the courage to speak up, even when it costs you.”
His smile is knowing.“And that’s exactly why I wanted you here.”
My phone buzzes again.
Adam
Jamie visited Rocket.Thought you'd want to know that he remembered to use his inhaler before coming in, told me his nurse showed him how.The kid looked like you hung the moon.
Dr.Harrison notices my smile."Good news?"
"Jamie remembered his inhaler treatment before visiting Rocket."
He watches me thoughtfully."You know, you have quite a way with children.The way you handled Jamie just now—making the connection between his health and his pet's...Have you really never considered pediatric nursing?"
The question catches me off guard."I've always been in trauma and emergency."
"And you're excellent at it, I'm sure.And it may have been exactly what you needed for years.But sometimes changes are okay.Changing your mind.Evolving.Those are all okay."He gestures toward the exam room where Jamie had been."That little boy was terrified when he came in.You not only examined him effectively, you made him an active participant in his own care.That's a gift."
I think about the children I've seen this week: Megan with her diabetes, Jamie with his asthma, little Sarah with her persistent ear infections.How much easier it's been to connect with them than with some of the adults.How natural it felt to translate medical concepts into terms they could understand and embrace.
"I...hadn't really thought about it," I admit.
"Maybe you should."He types something into the computer, then adjusts his Santa hat again - a nervous habit I've noticed when he's saying something meaningful."When I lost my license, I was also determined to prove everyone wrong.To show them I was still a good doctor.It took me years to realize I was spending so much energy trying to prove myself that I'd forgotten why I became a doctor in the first place."
The words hit with unexpected force.
"Something to think about," he says gently."Now, I believe Mrs.Peterson is waiting with her son's UTI.Third one this month - might want to check if he's been finishing his full course of antibiotics."
As I head to the exam room, his question sits with me as I explain the importance of finishing all the medication to his tired mother, as I document everything in the chart.
For the first time since my suspension, I allow myself to wonder: What if I don't have to claw my way back to exactly where I was?What if, instead, I could simply step forward into something new?
Chapter thirty-two
EVE
Aftermyhalf-dayatthe clinic, I head back to the B&B and start searching for nursing jobs outside hospitals.I never pictured myself outside hospital walls, especially not working with kids.
But with them, I drop the clinical shields.No mental triage.Just dinosaur bandages and Megan naming my stethoscope "Dr.Heartbeats."Chuck would call it unprofessional, but I call it healing.
And there’s a position that catches my eye.
