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“Yes, you are. I just paid off a resident to cover for you.”
“Sara, you didn’t!”
“I did. And you are going.”
I slumped back in my chair, crossing my arms. This woman was giving me a headache. “I hate my birthday, Sara. You know that.”
“It’s not for you. It’s for your dad and anyone else who loves you. Don’t be so selfish.”
“Selfish? It’smybirthday.”
“It’s settled, missy. We have a bigger problem.”
I groaned. By this point, I had wholly forgotten Dr. Medina was witness to this embarrassing exchange.
“It’s Valentina,” she said. I moved to stand, but Sara gestured me down to my chair. “She’s okay. But it’s time.”
“Time?”
“I was brushing her hair tonight, and—”
“Oh,” I said. My eyes watered. Valentina wasn’t vain, but her hair was so beautiful. I was sure she would mourn the loss.
“She’s having a bad night. I wouldn’t go see her now. She wants to be alone. Let her cry. Tomorrow, we’ll take care of it.”
I nodded.
“How do you want to handle this?” Sara asked.
“Mary.”
“You want to pull a Mary?”
“Yeah, I have the morning off. I’ll do the shopping, and I’ll meet you in her room at noon.”
“I’ll bring the equipment,” Sara said. “And Iwilltake the chocolate, thank you.” She grabbed the wrapper on the table with half my dinner and walked away. She waved at us with the chocolate. “We’re still having drinks at ten,” were her final parting words.
“Sorry about her,” I said. “She’s a bit—”
“Shameless?” Hector asked.
I laughed, even as a tear escaped my eye. I wiped it away quickly as if nothing had happened. “Yeah, that’s the best way to describe Sara.Shameless. You’ll get used to it. The sooner you learn she runs this place—and we’d be lost without her—the easier your job will be,” I said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.” I shifted in my chair.
“Never apologize for caring about your patients,” he said softly.
“No, I know. I’m apologizing for crying. It’s why so many people can’t take women doctors seriously.”
“No,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t carry that weight on your shoulders. Any man who thinks that way is a piece of shit. I’ve cried for patients before. I’m not ashamed of it. I’m human. Some of them just get under our skin. It doesn’t make us bad doctors. It makes us better ones.”
He left then, understanding I needed a moment and giving me what I needed—my privacy. Even though what he said was true, the idea was so ingrained in me that I couldn’t bear to cry in front of my boss.
