Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Every time I look at Angie, I see a different life, one filled with possibilities and happiness. A life where my heart doesn’t feel like it’s made of lead, where guilt doesn’t gnaw incessantly at every moment of joy.
But for that life to exist, do I have to erase Lindsay and Julia from my past?
None of that matters anyway.
Angie is my student.
I need to stop this before it goes so far that neither of us can take it back.
I head out to lunch when my phone buzzes. It’s Louisa.
“Hi there,” I say into the phone.
“Hey, Jason,” she says. “We’ve run into a little snafu with the surgery.”
My heart falls.
Of course. Why should this surprise me at all? It was always too good to be true.
“Fuck. Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I were.” She clears her throat. “Gita and I went in front of the hospital medical board yesterday evening. They convened a special session to discuss your surgery. Gita’s presentation was flawless, and we both figured this was just a formality.”
“But…” I prompt.
She sighs. “They have doubts about allowing the surgery because of the potential complications. The nerve graft in your hand is a complicated experimental procedure, and they worry about the potential for permanent damage if it doesn’t go as planned. They want you to understand all the risks before proceeding.”
I lean against the wall, closing my eyes. This surgery was supposed to be my second chance, a new beginning away from all the guilt and pain.
“I do understand,” I reply, willing myself to stay calm. “I’m willing to take the risk.”
“Jason, it’s not that simple,” she replies. “They want you to meet with the board before making a final decision. They want you to understand clearly what could happen and make sure you can cope with every possible outcome.”
The news crashes into me like a tidal wave. My mind is a whirl of thoughts and fears. More delays, more uncertainty, more waiting. I’m a surgeon, for fuck’s sake. I understand complications. I understand what could happen. I’m not a damned moron.
The board just wants to be free of any liability if something goes wrong. And they’re going to do everything they can to convince me not to undertake this challenge.
“And…” she says.
“And what?”
She pauses. “They’re concerned about your…mental health. What you’ve been through with the loss of your wife and child and your ability to perform surgery. They’re concerned that without a proper support system, you might not be able to handle the potential stress and complications, should any arise. It’s not just about the physical risk, Jason. It’s about your emotional well-being too.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “They think I’m unstable?”
“It’s more about your ability to cope under such stressful circumstances. Surgery can take a toll on anyone, Jason, even those who haven’t experienced the kind of trauma you have.”
I push away from the wall, anger surging through me. My personal life is my own damned business. How dare they pry into it like this? They wouldn’t do it if I were a normal patient. They just happen to have this extra information on me. Information I wouldn’t dare let them know if I were going into the hospital as a normal patient.
“I have a support system,” I argue weakly.
It’s not entirely untrue. There are people who care about me, but since Lindsay’s death, I’ve pushed them away.
But if I really needed them, I could reach out.
“Gita and I tried,” Louisa says, “but the board is adamant.”
“Fine,” I say, my voice clipped. “When is this meeting?”
“We’ll schedule it as soon as possible,” she says.
I end the call abruptly without saying goodbye.
Yeah, that was rude as hell. This isn’t Louisa’s fault.
But I know what’s coming. If I want this surgery in this hospital, they’re going to make me go to therapy.
Fucking therapy.
Therapy cost me my wife.
And God damn it, it won’t cost me my hand as well.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Angie
When I reach anatomy lab on Friday, the sign is there again.
Anatomy Lab Canceled
I’m relieved.
And also disappointed.
I don’t have to cut again, but I also won’t see Jason.
“Are you kidding me?” Eli walks up and bangs his hand on the door. “He’s canceling again?”
“I know, right?” I answer, trying to sound upset. I am upset, but not for the right reasons. “We’re never going to learn at this rate.”
Eli runs a hand through his black hair. “This is unprofessional.”
I shrug, though really I want to agree with him. But I don’t want to seem too eager or too invested. Plus, Jason probably has another appointment about his surgery.
Eli looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “Something wrong, Angie?”
“No,” I lie quickly. “Just tired, I guess.”
He nods and doesn’t press me further. We stand there awkwardly for a moment before he smacks the door one more time and then walks away, leaving me alone in the hallway.