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n the same set conditions, the more I was sure I was glad Dallas and I hadn’t stuck to our original plan to open a general practice. I knew eventually I’d become bored with the routine as McGuire had stated. I looked forward to being tested in tumor removal. No case would be the same. Cancer, though my greatest enemy, was still to become my life’s work. It was unpredictable, and that was the challenge I had to look forward to. As a human, I loathed the idea of anyone going through something so damning and painful. As a doctor, I was intrigued and determined to find a way to conquer my enemy.
All of my years of training, all of the hours I’d spent buried in books and in journals, the months I’d spent practicing my techniques, was all for the greater good. My purpose, my reason for being, was to fight cancer along with Dallas. All our roads, our hard work, had led to the center. Even pieces of our personal lives had all led up to this point.
As I closed up Mrs. Mills, I whispered in her ear, the way I did all my patients, “You did really well. You can come back now.”
“What do you say to them?” Jamie asked for the millionth time. I simply winked at her as I looked at McGuire, who never asked me but gave me the stern look he always did when I completed my ritual.
“Good job, Whittaker. I’ve taken the liberty of setting you up with Dr. Nichols this evening. He’ll be performing a cranial tumor removal.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said with enthusiasm, even though I felt a little piece of me sink at the thought I would have to cancel on Jack.
McGuire, true to his pleasant nature, left the OR without so much as a kiss my ass or goodbye. I vowed then and there not to treat my staff the same. What was the point of intimidating people that way? Sure, his methods had been successful for him, but it didn’t earn any more respect, at least not from me. Though I’d admired his abrasive attitude at one time, it was starting to wear on me. I again thanked fate that I wouldn’t be governed by him for the rest of my surgical career.
Excitement for my professional future began to race through me. I turned to Jamie as we sat in the courtyard next to the cafeteria and finally started the conversation I’d long avoided.
“We have just eleven weeks until we open the center. Weeks!”
Jamie paused, a full spoon of yogurt in front of her. “Now you want to talk about it? Now… now you want to talk about it when we’ve been trying to get you to open up for a solid year?!”
I chuckled as I poured almond milk into my granola. “So I’ve been tight-lipped, I know, I know, but that’s only because I didn’t want to jinx it, you know?”
Jamie nodded as if she understood.
“For so long, I’ve been measuring my life in years, Jamie. I can’t believe I’m saying weeks. WEEKS!”
“I’ve never seen you this pumped,” she said with a mouthful of yogurt.
“It’s a dream come true,” I said, my voice quivering with emotion and pride. “What do you do when your dream comes true?”
Jamie looked down at me just as her pager went off. She smiled as she stood to leave. “I guess you dream bigger.”
As I watched her walk away, I couldn’t for the life of me imagine asking for anything more.
Rose: I have to cancel, Jack. I’m sorry.
Jack: ?
Rose: Late surgery.
Jack: I understand. I’ll be at the center tonight. Come see me when you get off.
Rose: It may be late.
Jack: What am I, 80? I think I can handle a late night.
Rose: LOL You are wayyyyyy older than me. Sure you can keep up?
Jack: I’ll answer that question in person.
A solid blush swept through me, and I hoped he’d make good on that threat.
Rose: See you soon.
Jack: Not soon enough.
I smiled as I scrubbed in and caught my reflection in the window. I saw her again. She resembled a woman capable of a genuine smile, of enjoying the moment. I knew it wasn’t just the sudden attention of the beautiful man bent on entertaining our new connection. It was everything else, too. I was the career woman I’d set out to become. An already mildly accomplished surgeon with years of life-saving surgeries ahead of me, a career I’d dreamed of and worked my ass off for. With the help of my sister and my amazing family, and though I’d become a doctor years ago, I felt the pride that went along with the title… really felt it for time since I graduated. When I’d crossed the stage to accept my doctorate after having just lost Grant, I’d been numb to the world. I’d been stuck in an unbelievable cloud filled with pain and disbelief. Everything I’d done after that day had been busy work, a way to keep myself from falling into despair and pain, but I’d still felt it. I’d pushed through each day, promising myself that I wouldn’t let my personal tragedy take my whole life from me. But in a way, it had. In a way, I’d mourned to the point being a doctor was a chore and another thing I had to get through instead of a joyful endeavor of my choosing. As I watched the patient being prepped for surgery in my new clarity, I rejoiced in the knowledge that was no longer the case. And while I assisted on an operation it would take me years to imitate and perfect, I let the swell of pride burst within me.
I am a surgeon.
