Thursday, May 30, 2013

Transitions

"I think this will be my last day here.  Thanks for everything."

The world was ahead of him now as the year ended.  He had so much to do, so much ahead: a graduation, new city, wife with a new job, a need to find a home and new nanny, the need to learn a new hospital, community, and yes, even a need to sit through four hours of EPIC training, again, to fulfill his educational prerequisite for his new hospital's orientation.

"You bet," his mentor said, "good luck with everything.  This will be an incredibly exciting time for you"  as the fellow left.  Silently, the older doctor reflected on the excitement and stress that change brings.  He could see that the young fellow was already gone, his attention turned elsewhere. Good for him: focused, excited, slightly anxious, but eager to move forward.

He turned to the keyboard and clicked a few last notes, checked some labs, checked his inbox and sent a message,  then logged off happy the day was ending uneventfully.  The coffee cup was long since empty, lined with a circular residue at its bottom.  The lead was returned to its rightful place beside the other multicolored garments  in hopes it would air by the next morning.  He stood, knees sore, his back a little stiffer, and tidied a bit before changing. His shoes, his clothes, looked tired, too.  He headed out down the hall, wondering when the hall became so long.


He arrived home to a quiet house, the dog - now blind and deaf - smelled him arrive and started wagging. He stroked her back then led her outside.  He returned to flip on the TV.  PBS NewsHour's melodromatic droning was reassuring as he raised his feet to the coffee table. With that, the front door burst open and his daughter arrived home briefly saying "Hi, Dad.  Bye, Dad" as she snatched the car keys and left to a pregraduation bonfire.   "How did it go today?" he tried to ask, but she was gone.
Good for her, he thought.

As the cool carbonated bubbles of a lime Lacroix slid down his throat, he sat back, eyes closing, thankful he wasn't on call this night.

Good for me, he thought.

-Wes


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