AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t understand—”
The Doc handed me the envelope. “Despite you hiding the paperwork in the wrong filing tray on my desk, Dr Cain sorted the mess in my filing trays, found your assessment, saw your mistakes and suspected rightly that you sabotaged your answers. Dr Cain briefed me about Brayden’s mother whom you both treated for anaphylactic shock at the Thai restaurant. Impressive stuff again.”
I hung my head.
“Why did you do sabotage your diploma, Stacey? You worked so hard for your qualification.”
I ran my finger around the edge of the envelope.
“I dreaded becoming an enrolled nurse,” I said in a small voice.
The Doc’s face gave nothing away of his thoughts as he waited for me to continue.
“Everyone in my life thought I should be a nurse. It was the perfect happy ending to the horrible story of a young woman burnt in a bushfire who slowly recovered and became a nurse.”
He watched me with kind eyes.
“I hated being prodded and poked as they did their research trials for the new skin grafts. I hated being treated like a list of symptoms, rather than a person. I hated being trapped in the hospital. I wanted to see sky, and mountains, and even sheep. I even came to hate doctors.” I took another deep breath. “Working with you and Pam though was great. You’ve been so good to me, but it wasn’t what I really wanted to do. I always wanted to do something else with my life.”
He nodded. “Pam told me you've completed an interior design course. How long were you doing this course?”
“Last eighteen months.”
“Oh my,” the Doc murmured. “I see.”
I swallowed hard. “I finished it before my final round of specialist appointments with the medical school. I took two courses per semester, as I didn’t have enough money to pay for more. I won an award for my final project.
“When Dad was alive, I was always talking to him about the design of old homes, doing sketches of houses, and of trees, gardens, flowers. I was always drawing. He even did drawings for our house and made heaps of notes about how he wanted to restore the homestead in the style of the 1840s and 1850s. Dad got into woodwork and carpentry, and he’d never admitted it in front of his mates, but he loved colour. We were always looking in home magazines together.
“After he died, I had no one to talk to about this stuff. Until Granny Lynn showed me the house portraits she’d done. She used to babysit me while I was recovering. When Mum and the rest of my family had to go to the saleyards or be away, Mum didn’t like me being alone at the house. With Granny Lynn, I started drawing again. And drawing with her got me talking again. Helped me fight depression. My world had colour again when I drew.”
I looked up at the Doc. “Two years ago, I was in such a rut. Every time I’d pick up a module for the nursing diploma, it felt heavy, like I was being dragged under. I just needed to see if my dream could be reality.”
I hiccupped a sob. “I felt so guilty about doing the course in secret.”
The Doc took both my hands.
“You sound like an extremely passionate young woman. I’m so proud of you, Stacey.”
At his words, I came undone. I ugly-cried, letting the tears run down my face.
He waited as I wiped my eyes and blew my nose before handing me one of the envelopes. The nursing college logo was in the corner.
“It’s your completed diploma.”
I gaped. “But my assessment!”
“Harry corrected it, signed it as your own work and sent it in by the deadline.”
“Hewhat? But why?”
“Notwithstanding the robust discussion I had with Harry about the ethical issue of forging signatures and answering on your behalf,” the Doc inhaled before continuing, “he’d seen you demonstrate your competency and talent, and decided you deserved your qualification.”
I stared open-mouthed.
“If youwantto be an enrolled nurse, on your own terms, now you can. That diploma means having choices about your future. Now, here’s one more.”
He handed me the other envelope.
