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Twenty minutes after that mortifying episode, which was made even more cringeworthy because it happened in front of a fellow resident she’d just cursed out, London found herself sitting across from Doug Renault. As someone who had never been called to the principal’s office a day in her life, it felt as if she’d been so twice in the last few weeks.
Dr. Renault had spent the past five minutes relaying Foster’s version of what happened.
“I appreciate his helping me,” London said. “But if he thinks I’m going to apologize, he can kiss my…shoes,” she finished. Because shewouldcurb her language in front of Dr. Renault.
“I don’t care about Peter Foster,” Renault said. “Poaching surgical patients for his clinical trial is underhanded.”
“Exactly!” London said. “He shou—”
“Stop.” His voice was sharp. “We’re not talking about what Peter did right now. And the only patient I want to discuss at the moment is you.”
“I’m not a patient.”
“But you will be one soon if you don’t get things under control, London. Your BP was elevated. Way elevated.”
“It’s called stress! A fellow colleague just convinced one of my longtime patients to go against my plan of care. It would be a surprise if my blood pressure hadnotgone through the roof.”
“You know it’s more than just stress,” he said.
Yes, she did. It was hereditary. And she knew she needed to get a handle on it before it turned into something even more serious. The last thing she needed was to stroke out in the middle of surgery.
“I’m putting you on leave,” Doug said.
“You’re what!” She rose halfway out of her chair, but the harsh glare her normally calm supervisor shot her way had London rethinking her next move. “Dr. Renault, please. I don’t have time to go on leave. I’m at the end of my final year of residency. Are you trying to sabotage my career or something?”
He tapped his pen against his desk.
“Vacation then,” he replied after several intense moments. “As of tonight, you’re on vacation for the next week. I’ll reassign whichever surgeries cannot be postponed. This isn’t up for debate, London. You’re going to Cardiology to get checked out, then you’re going on vacation.”
The urge to stomp her foot like a petulant child was so strong that London couldn’t believe she was able to fight the impulse. But, honestly, how could she argue? She’d almost passed out.
She sat back in her chair and reluctantly nodded. “Okay,” she said. She chuckled at the genuine surprise on Doug Renault’s face. “Did you think I would argue?” she asked.
“For at least the next half hour.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You’re right.”
When was the last time she’d truly taken time to just…exist? To engage in the smallest amount of self-care?
The closest she came to doing something solely for her own enjoyment was her Friday night outings with Samiah and Taylor, and her crocheting. Yet, she’d canceled on her friends twice in the last few months, and she usually allowed herself to crochet only when there was a new lecture on surgical technique she could listen to. And even then, she felt guilty, as if she should be doing something more productive.
Why was it so hard for her to give herself a fucking break? When had her life become this never-ending grind?
Had she started buying into her own hype? Believing she was this superwoman who could do it all without ever slowing down? She’d spent the past five years pulling eighty-hour workweeks while covering shifts for fellow residents. Add planning a class reunion on top of that, researching surgical fellowships around the country, and now this ambassadorship she’d been roped into doing. Was it any wonder she’d nearly passed out today?
She could blame Kenneth and his shitty genes all she wanted to, but London knew that played only a small part. She needed to do a better job of taking care of herself, both physically and mentally.
She needed somemetime.
“You’re right,” London said again. “Life has been…it’s been pretty wild lately. I can use a few days away from this hospital, even if it’s just to veg out on my couch and watch Netflix.”
“I’m almost disappointed that I won’t have the chance to plead my case,” Dr. Renault said. “I had some good arguments locked and loaded.”
“Use them on someone else.” London slapped her hands on the armrests and pushed herself up. “I’m officially on vacation.” She paused. “Okay, I do have a few charts I need to finish up before I can leave.”
“We also need to go over the surgeries you have scheduled for next week.” Doug looked at his watch. “If we can get it done in the next hour, your vacation can start at noon.”
She nodded. “Deal.”
