Shit, somehow I missed the last few minutes of him talking, and now the other five residents in this rotation with me are dispersing. As a fourth-year resident, I’m technically in charge of our group. I’m the farthest along in the program, not to mention the oldest, even if I am a new transfer to the Vancouver Island residency program. And for me to have zoned out on the first day is not a good thing.
“Dr. Morgan, this way, please.” I lift my eyes to see Dr. Donnelly staring at me with his mesmerizing blue eyes. His phone is in his hands, and he’s spinning it around.
“Right, yes. Coming. You can call me Heidi still, if you prefer, I mean. Or Dr. Morgan. I don’t mind.”
Good God, Molly would roll her eyes so hard if she could hear me now.
“Stop being a people pleaser, Heidi. You earned that title, let the hunka hunka man meat call you doctor.”
At sixteen, Molly was blunt and to the point. And somehow, I just know that Dr. Donnelly would meet all her requirements for that nickname, the one she reserved for what she called the hottest of the hot.
“Dr. Morgan.” The snap of Dr. Donnelly’s voice brings me back to reality, and I cringe, wondering how many times he’s said it. Crap.Get it together.
“Sorry. Yes?”
He shakes his head. “I just said we can use first names when it’s the two of us, but in front of patients or other staff, please remember to use professional titles.”
His head tilts to the side as those eyes study me. I feel myself start to wilt under his penetrating gaze. Is he judging me, already? I got the feeling he wasn’t all that pleased to hear I managed to get placement here, but I’m hoping Clarence at least explained that I didn’t take someone else’s spot. Yes, Dr. Patel put in a good word for me, but also, there was a last-minute change, not of my doing.Thatwas the real reason I got the placement.
“Are you ready to start rounds or do you need another minute to finish daydreaming?” he barks, startling me with his harsh tone.
“I’m ready.”
He steps to the side, leaving a large space between us as we take off down the hallway. “Then let’s get started. I assume you reviewed your charts before your shift started?”
Thank God I did, because Dr. Donnelly doesn’t seem like he’s in a good mood — at all. Glancing at my patient list, I say with confidence, “First up is Roberto Alvarez, seven years old, post-op day one of internal fixation to a fractured tib-fib.” We reach the patient room and I flip open the binder where the nurses keep track of things like vitals and medications the patient has had. “Looks like he was stable overnight, only needing PRN pain medications.”
He nods sharply before walking into the room. And his entire demeanour shifts once again.
“Berto, my man. You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”
I stand back and watch as he does some complex high-five routine with the little boy in the hospital bed, his casted leg propped up on pillows.
This is the man I remember. The one who connects with his patients in an instant, making them feel safe. I watch him chat with Roberto and his mom for a moment, who’s sitting beside the bed, before he motions me closer.
“This is Dr. Morgan, and she’s working with me for a little while. She’s going to be the one getting everything ready for you to go home, okay? You’ll have to come back in about six weeks to get that cast off, but you’ll be fine. Just no more jumping from the top of the slide. Deal?” He winks at Roberto, then turns to the boy’s mother. “We’ll make sure you’ve got all your follow-up instructions before you leave.”
The second we’re out of the room, he starts firing directions at me. Luckily, my memory has always been sharp. “Put in a referral for physio to teach him how to use crutches; I’m not sure if they have stairs at home. Ask the unit clerk to book his follow-up down in the cast clinic, and with the nurses to go over signs of infection.” His eyes flit to me and narrow. “Speaking of infection, you need to tie your hair up.”
My mouth opens to respond, but he’s gone, heading to the nursing station to no doubt scribble his orders in Roberto’s chart. My hand drifts up to my head where a few strands of my hair have fallen loose from my braid. Not enough to be a problem, so the fact he brought it up irks me. He knows damn well I’m a stickler for infection control. Still, I tuck it behind my ear for now and hurry after him, deciding to take the high road and not push back about his rude attitude on day one.
The rest of the morning flies by in a flurry of checking up on patients, writing orders and chart notes, and two consults in the ER. Throughout it all, Dr. Donnelly — I can’t bring myself to call him Max anymore — is brusque and sharp with me, but morphs into a different person around his patients and other staff members.
His Jekyll and Hyde routine confuses me so much that when he finally dismisses me to go and grab some lunch, I find Ginny.
“Hey doll, how goes it with hot doc?” Her cheerful voice hits me as I drop into a chair in her small office just off the nursing station.
“Did he always hate me, or is this new?” I reply dramatically.
“I don’t think that man hates anybody,” she chides gently. “He’s probably just sorting out the different dynamic between you two, now that you’re not a nurse anymore.”
I consider that for a moment. “But why would that make him treat me any differently? I don’t remember him being so harsh toward a resident before, but it’s like nothing I do is going to make him happy.” I don’t mention the glare that was his parting shot to me ten years ago. I’ve never forgotten how chilling the expression was, or how confusing. One minute we were talking like normal people, the next, my ex-boyfriend showed up, and it was as if the energy was drained from the room, leaving only a void.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out there was bad blood between Thad and Max. But when I tried to ask Thad about it, he brushed me off.
A familiar occurrence back then.
Laughter filters in from the station, and I look out to see none other than Dr. Donnelly himself, smiling and laughing — with another doctor and their resident, one of my classmates.
