Page 2 of The Love Operation

Page List
Font Size:

Of course she asks. The whole OR knows I’m gunning for it.

When word got out at the end of last year that Dr. Russell Vaughn—our current chief of surgery—was planning to retire, nominations opened and applications started rolling in. My mom encouraged me to go for it, then looked at me like I was already standing behind that desk, pride in her eyes. Her belief made me hungry.

No one makes chief before forty. Most aren’t even in the running before age forty-five. But if anyone’s going to shatter that glass ceiling, it’s going to be me, scalpel raised and hand on hip like Wonder Woman, only in scrubs under a lab coat.

It’s now March, and since January, we’ve been stuck in this “long-list phase”—an extended vetting process where the Chief Selection Committee assesses qualifications, leadership experience, and peer feedback. The short list is supposed to be announced any day now.

I’ve been checking my email like a vital sign on a touch-and-go patient. Lana’s question prompts a Pavlovian maneuver: I slide my phone out of my back pocket and click on my email. My pulse surges as my eyes devour the highlighted subject line:

Subject: Lockewood University Medical Center—Chief of Surgery Finalist Notification

Dear Dr. Cordelia Wren,

Thank you for your interest in the Chief of Surgery position at Lockewood University Medical Center.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected as one of three finalists for the position along with Minho Cho, MD, and Gavin Shephard, MD.

The final phase of the selection process will include:

A formal presentation to the hospital board and selection committee

A departmental town hall and Q&A with surgical faculty and staff

Scheduled and unscheduled clinical and operative observations

Final leadership assessment interviews

You will receive a detailed itinerary and presentation guidelines by the end of the week.

We commend your leadership, clinical excellence, and ongoing contributions to Lockewood and look forward to continuing the process with you.

Sincerely,

Kimberly Alston

Kimberly Alston

Director of Physician Recruitment

Lockewood University Medical Center

Three finalists. And I’m one of them. I try not to fixate on the other two, but my brain doesn’t cooperate.

Calm and competent Cho: quiet, universally respected, impossible to dislike—even when I want to. (Especially when I want to.)

Slick Shephard: charm, politics, and performative progress.

I could live with Cho getting the job. I’m not entirely convinced he’d hold up under the pressure, but at least he’d lead with integrity.

Shephard, though? I vehemently oppose everything he represents. He’s the face of the status quo, just with a better haircut. If he gets the job, we’re not moving forward. We’re rebranding the past and calling it progress.

I stare at the screen, rereading it once. Twice. My chest tightens—not with panic, but with possibility.

I’ll be watched, dissected, judged. From clinic to OR to podium. And still, I want it.

I want it so badly, my bones ache for it—because my bones have been formed for this. Pressure over time. Stone to diamond.

My first instinct is to text my mother. I start typing, then remember where I am.