Page 26 of Paging Dr. Hart
“He is. At the end of every year, he and his partner would have all of us interns and residents over to their house for a barbeque. It was something we all looked forward to. He always treated us with respect, not like some of the other attendings, who act like we’re expendable.”
I snort. “You mean like Dr. Washburn?” My residency director is always scheming up new ways to shift more responsibilities to the residents so he can work less.
Ethan glances at me. “Yeah, kinda like that.”
It takes us forever to reach the Radiology Department. Ethan seems to know everyone in the hospital, and they all want to say hello. Doctors, nurses, and technicians, young and old, stop us in the hallways. I’m regaled by stories about Ethan, like the time he was an intern and slept through a fire alarm. Or when there was a blizzard and the rest of the staff got snowed in, leaving him as the only doctor in the ICU.
“Dr. Clark handled it well,” a respiratory technician tells me with pride. “Only had two patients die that night.” The burly man claps Ethan on the shoulder so hard that he flinches.
“Oh! That’s… good.” I try to remember how many ICU patients usually pass away in one day.
An older nurse even tells me about how she remembers Ethan as a small child, coloring in the break room when his dad would bring him to the hospital. The nurse describes how he would sit patiently for hours while his father rounded on patients. “Such a good boy,” says the nurse fondly, with a pat on his cheek, which makes Ethan look like he wants to sink into the floor with embarrassment.
By the time we finally get to radiology, my face hurts from all the smiling and nodding I’d been doing. An older radiologist named Dr. Fann shows us around the department and then takes us to our office. When I see the cramped room with two computers side by side, I’m not surprised.
It feels like home.
20
We go through a lengthy tutorial on how to use our new computers. It’s noon, and we haven’t started our actual work yet. Ethan runs down to the cafeteria to get us lunch. Now that I’m used to his eating habits, I don’t comment when he comes back carrying a tray so laden with food that I’m convinced it’ll make the table collapse. We eat while we work, sitting at our desks. Ethan offers me a crispy onion ring, but I shake my head no, sticking instead to the French fries that come with my sandwich.
As I chew, I watch Ethan from under my lashes. Everyone has greeted him with enthusiasm today. He’s been cheerful and polite in response, but I sense a kind of reserve in him. Like he’s holding back a piece of himself here, a part that he usually lets loose in Columbus. It bothers me, this discrepancy.
“They love you here.” I say, breaking the silence. “It’s like the prodigal son returning, and you’ve only been gone a couple of months. I’m surprised you ever left. You must love radiology to give up all this adoration.”
“I couldn’twaitto get out of here,” he spits out with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. “Besides, not everyone likes me.”
I raise my eyebrows, questioning.
Ethan says nothing more, going back to his work. The computer screen casts a haunting blue glow over his face.
Interesting.
After a moment, he lets out a frustrated sigh and swivels his chair toward me. “I don’t totally understand what we’re supposed to be doing here. How exactly are we going to set up this exchange program?”
Since Dr. Washburn gave us the assignment, I’ve given this a lot of thought. “I have some ideas,” I assure him. “How about we break it down based on how advanced we are? For example, a first-year resident who is just startingto learn radiology should focus on reading X-rays and basic stuff. A senior resident can do the more complicated procedures, like angiography with the interventional radiologist.”
I pick up a pencil from my desk and fiddle with it, flipping it over my fingers. “The attending radiologists here aren’t used to working with us. We need to make sure everyone is on the same page about what they should be doing.”
“That sounds good.” Ethan leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. The tips of his toes brush against mine and a strange zinging sensation runs up my leg.
“We can make a list of cases and procedures for each resident, based on their experience level. I want to pull chapters from our textbooks and from medical journals and give them as required reading for the month. That way, they can learn as they work.” I tap the pencil lightly against the table.
“I can’t screw this up.” Ethan laces his hands behind his head. “I need to make a good impression.”
I snap toward him, frowning. “Why? To win the Resident of the Month award?”
“What? No.” He gives his head a small shake. “I’m going to helpyouwin that.”
I scoff, not believing him. “Why would you do that?” How strange would that be? To have someone in my corner for once?
“To be honest, I thought about trying to win it.” He straightens, the chair creaking with his movement. “When I left here to move to Columbus, I got a lot of grief. People implied I was selfish. That I had made a commitment and then gone back on it. They made me feel guilty for leaving them short-handed. It would be nice to get that award. Show them and my family that I made the right decision.”
Now Ethan leans forward, his face sincere. “But I don’t deserve it as much as you do. You’re the smartest, most hard-working resident in that hospital. You get there early and leave late. You help everyone and don’t take credit for it.” A pause before he adds, “Also, Melanie told me how you need the money for that Disney World conference.”
Melanie, you traitor.
“I don’t need your pity.” I scowl at him, offended.
