Page 509 of End Game

Holden stands and leans one shoulder against the counter beside me. “You know enough to interpret everything they're hearing. You know enough to recognize what's routine and what's concerning. You also know enough to come up with twenty things that could go wrong that would never occur to anyone else.”

“Exactly.”

“And what they actually want when they ask you a question is for you to tell them she's definitely going to be fine.”

I finally drink the water. “Yeah.”

“But you can't.”

“No.”

“And you want somebody to tell you instead.”

That one gets me.

I stare at the floor. “Yeah.”

His voice softens. “I know.”

For the first time all night, somebody says it and I believe they actually do.

Not because he knows DKA.

Because he knows this.

“Medical knowledge is occasionally a curse.”

“That's a shitty thing for an intensivist to say.”

He smiles. “That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

That gets a real laugh out of me.

Small.

But real.

Holden folds his arms. “The other problem is that knowing what should happen probably makes you feel like you should be doing something.”

“I've spent the entire night staying out of people's way.”

“Good.”

“Doesn't feel good.”

“It isn't supposed to.” His response is immediate. “Sometimes the most useful thing you can do is recognize that you're not useful medically. If you start trying to manage the team because you know enough to have opinions, you become a distraction. Then they spend time managing you instead of managing her.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.” He smiles. “I learned that one the unpleasant way too. I was given more access than I probably should've had because of who I was in this hospital, but it came with one rule: if I got in the way, I was out. No argument.”

I look toward Cami's room. “Makes sense.”

“Completely.”

“Still not fun.”

“Also completely.”