“Erin, do you have a minute? I would like to discuss something.”
“Fine, but I need a cigarette first. That meeting was hell, and I need my nicotine fix,”
I get it. I was two seconds away from losing it myself in there.
Smoking is forbidden in guest areas because of the triggers. And even Erin, who has her own rules inside these gates, respects that one. So I follow her as we head toward the staff residences. Gravel crunches under our feet as we walk past the meditation garden. The sound of waving palm trees is almost equal to the sound of the ocean waves. Gentle, but a slightly different rhythm. It’s the perfect white noise for the yoga classes I teach in the garden.
When we reach the terrace, I wave at Anya, a patient of mine doing her therapy in the infinity pool.
“How’s she doing?” Erin asks.
“She’s walking.”
“Walking isn’t enough. Anya needs to be ready for the Olympics next year.”
I shake my head. “I’ve seen her scans, Erin. It’s bad. I won’t touch anything near her spine.”
Erin hums with a little frustration.
“She mentioned getting a second opinion. What do you think?”
Is this a sincere question or a test?
“I don’t think it will make a difference. What we need to do is guide her toward acceptance. It’s harsh, I mean, imagine dedicating your entire life to a single dream, the Olympics, and then losing it all after one fall.”
That hits close to home. I realize it the moment the words leave my mouth.
“Poor girl,” Erin murmurs, pulling out her cigarette pack. Within seconds she’s got one lit. I step back to avoid standing in the haze.
After her first inhale, Erin turns to me.
“So, what’s on your mind?”
“Nils is leaving, and I want his position.” Blunt and to the point.
Erin laughs but says nothing.
Her silence starts a little vortex in my head.
Not ready. Can’t handle it. Not good enough.
“I know I can do it,” I push on. “Over the past few years, I’ve completed three specializations. I’m always going the extra mile for my patients. I take notes at meetings, cover night shifts, pick up extra hours for colleagues—”
She raises her hand to stop me mid-sentence.
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about. You’re always here. When’s the last time you went surfing at Starlight Beach?”
Not exactly the words I wanted to hear, but she’s right. I can’t remember the last time I took some time off. But stoppingnow feels impossible. I’ve worked too hard to build something meaningful here. Plus, they need me. We’re always short-staffed.
Yes. I’m exhausted from years of putting my career first, but I need to keep going. Just a little bit more to get there.
“I can handle it, Erin.”
She nods, taking another drag of her cigarette.
“Let me be real with you, Yosh. If it were up to me, you’d already be head of department. You’ve got the work ethic, and I believe in your methods. You’ve come a long way since you started here, and I see that. But there are other candidates who’ve been around a lot longer.”
She pulls a file out of her bag and hands it to me.
