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How am I going to make this right?
***
Iwake up Monday morningrealizing I have to be at the hospital at ten for an interview. Even though I’d already worked there, I hadn’t been there long enough to allow a six-month leave of absence and I now had to start the hiring process all over again. I was looking forward to it, though.
After a shower and shave, I open my laptop to update and then print out my résumé,and see an email from my sister. What is she emailing me for?
From: [email protected]
Subject: You’re invited!
Carter and Taryn request your presence at their baby’s Gender Reveal party on Saturday, January 29 @ 2:00 p.m. at their residence.
Click here to accept nvite!
Click here to decline nvite!
I roll my eyes. What’s with all the parties and shit all the time? Can’t she simply send a text and tell us if it’s a boy or a girl?
I clickacceptbecause I obviously have to go, plus there will probably be a killer food spread.
Once my résuméis updated, I print it and take it with me to the interview. They said I didn’t need to bring a paper copy but I guess it’s habit. Is 36 too young to consider myself old and set in my ways?
After trying to remember how to get to HR, I finally found it after two elevator rides. I sit in the office waiting for them to call me back for my interview. I’m nervous, glad I wore the black button-down and silver tie because I’m stupidly sweating.
“Mr. Andrews,” a woman calls from one of the many doors. “Right this way.”
I stand and head there, and then enter a room with a large conference table and four people dressed professionally sitting at it. The woman leaves, closing the door behind her.
Each person shakes my hand, remembering me from my short employment from before I took off halfway around the world.
I hand Dr. Turner my résumé and he looks it over. “I see you gained quite a bit of experience in Kenya.”
I nod. “Sure did.”
“Tell us about it, in your own words.”
“Sure,” I begin. I talk for about ten minutes about everything I did and saw there and the impact it had on me. I shared the story of Kwame and the incident at the Kenya airport with the drugs, acknowledging that it’s going to be an ongoing problem and I felt frustrated because I didn’t have the resources to make it better. Only a beef up in law enforcement or maybe private security would do that.
“And how is the young boy doing now? Do you get updates?” Dr. Turner asks.
“I got a text from Dr. Smith yesterday that his bloodwork is improving, and that the cancer is dwindling. Not out of the woods, but it was a relief, nonetheless.”
The doc and the other three smile, seemingly invested in my story. “I’ll keep you guys updated when I hear something. I mean, if you hire me back that is.” I throw them my most charming smile.
“Of course we’re going to hire you back. You’ll be PTA status, but that’s until you can get your DMT reinstated. Any news on that?”
I shake my head as my cheeks heat. “Unfortunately, they’re still refusing. I’m going to try again in a few months, maybe show them the time I donated overseas. I’m hoping it’ll help, but that’s not why I did it.”
“How are you adapting to being back home?” Dr. Turner asks.
“I’m okay, it was an adjustment, but it’s been almost two weeks so I’m getting back into the swing of things. Getting used to the food, too.” I pat my stomach. “It’s nice to be able to go to the gym. The little things.”
“Totally understandable.” He stands and we all follow suit. “Let’s get your paperwork done, then you can start whenever you’re ready.”
“I can start tomorrow if that’s okay. I really want to get back to work.”
