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He tagged a serious smile on that no-brainer, but she couldn’t summon one in return. Les looked at his card, turning it over in her fingers. “Have you…have you had any contact with the family? Like Mrs. DaCosta?”
“Not yet. You haven’t attempted to make contact with her, have you?”
His piercing regard was joined by Dr. Portland’s, her brown eyes fixed on Les. Les shifted uncomfortably. “I haven’t. But I wondered if, at some future time, there might be that opportunity? The night it happened, I didn’t express myself as well as I could have.”
“Is that a real question?” he asked, his tone incredulous.
When she flinched, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. While he looked like he was having some kind of internal dialogue about dealing with medical students, when he spoke, his tone was even again. “Ask yourself this, Miss Wilder. Do you really think there’s anything you can say that would make a difference? It’s human to want to absolve ourselves, to seek forgiveness. Unfortunately, offering an apology isn’t typically useful for the dismissal of a lawsuit.”
She wasn’t sure if she agreed with that, but the hospital had more to lose from this than her. She nodded her understanding, rose and shook his offered hand. He glanced toward Dr. Portland. “Anne.” Then he left the office.
“So that’s done.” Dr. Portland nudged the bottle toward her. “Les, take another drink so I’ll know you’re not going to fall out on me.”
“I’m fine,” Les said, but she complied. Could she do this? Yes, she could. Because as nerve wracking as this was, as much as she felt like her heart was being shredded, when she walked out of here today, she knew three things for certain.
She wasn’t a mother who’d lost her child.
She would be going home to her family.
Brick would be waiting for her.
Reminding herself first and foremost who’d lost the most in all of this helped. As did revisiting the main purpose of the M&M, which Dr. Portland did now.
“The conference will focus on processes, as much as individual action. It’s not to assign specific blame, though often it can feel that way.” Dr. Portland tapped her closed laptop. “I appreciate you emailing me the detailed list of the actions you took that night.”
“I appreciate the suggestion. Writing it down helped me order my thoughts and remember things I’d forgotten.”
“Yes.” Dr. Portland laced her hands on the desk. “Everything he said about you is true, Les. You are an excellent medical student, and well thought of. It’s a terrible trial by fire, but how you handle this, how you proceed, will determine what kind of doctor you will be.”
“And if I have what it takes to be a doctor.”
Proving her experience as an advisor, Dr. Portland didn’t deny it. “This is a profession that often requires detachment from a patient’s suffering as well as extraordinary attention to detail, all to improve their health and well-being. We apply what we learn from every misstep toward that goal. Your caring heart is a big part of what will make you a good doctor, Les. Even as it’s the thing that could also make you change your mind about being one. Do you understand?”
“I do.” Only too well.
The advisor sat back. “Are you going home to North Carolina for Easter?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Spend the holiday with your family. You’ll have some ground to make up when you return next week, but I’ve no doubt you’ll manage it.” Dr. Portland checked her watch. “We should head in that direction.”
Blessing that dry toast Brick had made her, absorbing some of the acid in her stomach, Les rose, smoothing her skirt. “Thank you for being in the M&M with me. For supporting me.”
Dr. Portland gave her an assessing look. “One last note of advice? After my first M&M, I did tequila shots until I blacked out. I don’t recommend it.”
Les blinked. “A…friend brought me here. He said he’d take me out for ice cream.”
“A much better idea.” Dr. Portland’s faint smile faded away. “This is no laughing matter. But to keep doing this job well, you have to give yourself breathing room.”
“He’s an arson investigator. And a fireman. He said something similar.”
“I’m glad you have someone like that in your corner. But do go home for Easter, Les. I know how much your family means to you. Let them help you with this. Help you make any big decisions.”
Les met her advisor’s gaze again. “Yes, ma’am.”
She’d worried about being in the same room with the resident and attending. But Dr. Jack Tollman and Dr. Arnold Redmond greeted her with no obvious animosity. She envied them their seeming calm. Dr. Redmond was always reserved, just as he was now. Dr. Jack was more friendly, though just like any other day, he had the look of an overwhelmed and busy resident.
She was supposed to sit at the panel table with them. “Once your part of the presenting is done, you’ll return to the audience,” Dr. Jack told her. “If there are follow-up questions addressed to you at that point, stand up and answer. But after the step-by-step, we should get the bulk of them.”
