What had Tristan said on occasion about the military? “That’s need to know information and you don’t need to know.”
“Great.” Diamond didn't pretend to care and plowed onto the subject they must have been here to discuss. “Do you have any questions about your call schedule?”
“My call schedule?” Clarissa stammered at their pivot. “I'm not on service, so I'm going home.”
“Not today.” Diamond pointed toward the computer. “The schedule for the rest of the year.”
“Oh, that. Right.” Clicking around through the residency website, Clarissa found the monthly call schedule. Gallo had assigned her a brutal schedule for the rest of the year since she’d been moved to lighter rotations for a few months after her attack. “Found it.”
“You didn't check it before today?” Addison said.
“I was added late.” Clarissa didn't want to mention that she'd prefer not to know the torture waiting for her. April was NICU, May was the PICU, and June was Hospitalist team. Each one was an every fourth night call, and she'd have to stay the full thirty hours. Gallo had told her these were mandatory rotations, even though it was more than the required to graduate most pediatric programs. “Seems okay... wait. This can't be right.”
She twisted her head around to take in the projection onto the screen where her PowerPoint had been. It was possible she was reading it upside down and backward. “I'm leaving the NICU post-call and coming back the next day on call for the PICU?”
More clicking to June. “When I switch to hospitalist team, I take call the third night, not the fourth?”
The sheer audacity of this blatant residency hours rules violation was stunning. They had basically added an entire week of call onto her schedule.
“It's not a rules violation,” Olivia said before Clarissa could protest.
“How is it not?”
“Those are different months—April, May, and June. The hours rules apply to per individual month. The condensed call nights only occur at the change of the month. Totally legit,” Addison explained in a practiced tone. “This happens when trying to synchronize so many residents, vacations, babies, illnesses.”
“Also, people had to make up for you when you were sick,” Olivia added on with a less than sincere smile. “You got two extra call-free months on your December and January electives. Dr. Gallo also didn’t make you do another full heme-onc month.”
I.e.,—Count yourself lucky to have such a supportive residency program. We indulged you enough for getting roofied by a baby-kidnapping drug dealer over Thanksgiving. Time to pull your weight by sacrificing more.
“I see.” Clarissa, a much better fake-smiler than the chiefs, gave her best pretend grin. “Guess I'd better go home and bank up on sleep.”
Diamond nodded with approval. “We just needed you to be aware of this, and how it is not a rule violation. So, you shouldn't try to report it. Because you'd be wrong, and that accusation would be unfounded.”
Those witches didn't bother to wait for her response before beating it out the door, bombshell dropped.
Clarissa flipped around the schedule, the flaws larger than life, hating the three of them with the fire of a thousand suns. The fact they had the nerve to approach her meant they understood perfectly well they were morally wrong yet had no qualms about going about their business.
Morally wrong but technically correct. Cedarville College would have had a stroke over this ethical dilemma, being that it was stacked against a resident to report their own program for work hours violations. Even an 'unfounded accusation,' could suspend the residency program, hurting the resident and the rest of their colleagues far more than the residency program. Whistleblower protections did nothing if a resident didn't have a program to graduate from.
She was boxed in with no real options. Reporting the program wasn’t a choice. Her chiefs weren’t on her side, and she couldn’t complain to Gallo, as he’d assigned the rotations.
Her fist thumped on the lectern, and she counted backward from ten, same as they did in anesthesia right before they put the patient under with propofol.
There was nothing she could do.
Her roommates would be angry on her behalf, except they were in the exact same position she was. If anything, they'd suggest she tell Roan, since they perceived him as a hospital mover and shaker.
Another winning option. Part of Roan's hesitation to date her was the problems of mixing business with pleasure. He'd told her when it came to her, logic failed and his responses were disproportional. Her chief boyfriend storming her department would improve nothing for her and make her look less than capable if she depended on him to fight her battles.
Worse, it would remind him once again that she wasn't close to his equal. She bet his residency hadn't been fun, nor had his fellowship, but she was pretty sure he hadn’t complained when the schedule wasn’t fair to him.
Her phone beeped with an incoming text message.
It was Tristan, again.
From what she could tell, he was still in Oregon and still trying to get info about Willow.
His ongoing campaign was to send her five or six text messages a day at random hours, hoping to catch her off guard.
