probably didnât matter.
âShit!â George shouted while glancing at the bare shelves in his refrigerator. He had forgotten to stop at Ralphâs grocery on his way home. The empty fridge underscored how sad and devoid of pleasure his life was.
He looked around the room. He had no pictures on the walls and no photos. There had been a few of Kasey, but after she died he put them away. They were too painful to look at every day. His only addition to the furniture that had come with the apartment was the flat-screen TV and a bunch of radiology textbooks. Sad. Very sad indeed.
11
L.A. UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER
WESTWOOD, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
TUESDAY, JULY 1, 2014, 7:30 A.M.
G eorge entered the radiology main conference room, checking messages on his phone while balancing a cup of coffee on his iPad. For a small gaggle of first-year residents it was the first day of residency. He was still in a blue funk from the previous day and still couldnât decide how he felt about Paula and iDoc.
Feeling decidedly antisocial, George took a seat in the very last row. He liked a lot of his fellow residents and some of them were very accomplished, but he wasnât close to any of them. For the most part, they were married, some with kids and living a completely different life from Georgeâs. In truth he felt envious, and it made him miss Kasey that much more.
George sipped his coffee and tuned out the welcoming speeches. He had heard them all, ranging from the warm to the threatening. George stifled a yawn as he eyed the first-year residents. There were more women than men this time around, and all appeared eager to go. They were scrubbed up in crisp, freshly laundered and pressed white coats. He had made it a point to look over the list of the first-year residents a few days before and noticed they were all married.
Georgeâs mind wandered as the meeting droned on. Over the last few months he was supposed to have been dreaming up some sort of research project for his fourth year, but he hadnât given it much serious thought. He wondered about the possibility of doing a year of subspecialty radiology as a way of putting off the decision about what he was going to do after he graduated from the program. After the previous dayâs presentation at Amalgamated, he wasnât as sanguine about his professional future as he had been prior to it. Would he end up working for Amalgamated or its equivalent? Unfortunately he thought the chances were depressingly possible.
At the conclusion of the departmentâs welcoming conference there was a modest spread of doughnuts and coffee to encourage mingling. George watched it all from the periphery, feeling disassociated. Just then Clayton caught sight of him and sidled over before George could escape.
âThe women are getting better looking every year,â Clayton whispered.
âItâs just that weâre getting older,â George replied. âPlus theyâre all married, so it doesnât matter.â
Clayton glanced over at George. âSomeone got up on the glass-half-empty side of the bed this morning. Whatâs your first rotation this year?â
âSupervising emergency imaging in the ER.â
âGood!â Clayton said, pleased. âI had told scheduling to assign you there, but you never know. Canât count on anyone anymore. Listen: I heard through the grapevine that thereâs a knockout first-year ER resident from Stanford. Single, since that seems to be a prerequisite for you. Her name is Kelley something or other. Check her out. Iâm always thinking about you, buddy.â
âOkay,â George said. He wasnât interested, but he didnât want to get into it with Clayton; better to let him think all was well with his clumsy efforts to fix George up. George definitely wanted to stay on the manâs good side. George saw Carlos Sanchez, the first-year that he was scheduled to supervise. It
âShit!â George shouted while glancing at the bare shelves in his refrigerator. He had forgotten to stop at Ralphâs grocery on his way home. The empty fridge underscored how sad and devoid of pleasure his life was.
He looked around the room. He had no pictures on the walls and no photos. There had been a few of Kasey, but after she died he put them away. They were too painful to look at every day. His only addition to the furniture that had come with the apartment was the flat-screen TV and a bunch of radiology textbooks. Sad. Very sad indeed.
11
L.A. UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER
WESTWOOD, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
TUESDAY, JULY 1, 2014, 7:30 A.M.
G eorge entered the radiology main conference room, checking messages on his phone while balancing a cup of coffee on his iPad. For a small gaggle of first-year residents it was the first day of residency. He was still in a blue funk from the previous day and still couldnât decide how he felt about Paula and iDoc.
Feeling decidedly antisocial, George took a seat in the very last row. He liked a lot of his fellow residents and some of them were very accomplished, but he wasnât close to any of them. For the most part, they were married, some with kids and living a completely different life from Georgeâs. In truth he felt envious, and it made him miss Kasey that much more.
George sipped his coffee and tuned out the welcoming speeches. He had heard them all, ranging from the warm to the threatening. George stifled a yawn as he eyed the first-year residents. There were more women than men this time around, and all appeared eager to go. They were scrubbed up in crisp, freshly laundered and pressed white coats. He had made it a point to look over the list of the first-year residents a few days before and noticed they were all married.
Georgeâs mind wandered as the meeting droned on. Over the last few months he was supposed to have been dreaming up some sort of research project for his fourth year, but he hadnât given it much serious thought. He wondered about the possibility of doing a year of subspecialty radiology as a way of putting off the decision about what he was going to do after he graduated from the program. After the previous dayâs presentation at Amalgamated, he wasnât as sanguine about his professional future as he had been prior to it. Would he end up working for Amalgamated or its equivalent? Unfortunately he thought the chances were depressingly possible.
At the conclusion of the departmentâs welcoming conference there was a modest spread of doughnuts and coffee to encourage mingling. George watched it all from the periphery, feeling disassociated. Just then Clayton caught sight of him and sidled over before George could escape.
âThe women are getting better looking every year,â Clayton whispered.
âItâs just that weâre getting older,â George replied. âPlus theyâre all married, so it doesnât matter.â
Clayton glanced over at George. âSomeone got up on the glass-half-empty side of the bed this morning. Whatâs your first rotation this year?â
âSupervising emergency imaging in the ER.â
âGood!â Clayton said, pleased. âI had told scheduling to assign you there, but you never know. Canât count on anyone anymore. Listen: I heard through the grapevine that thereâs a knockout first-year ER resident from Stanford. Single, since that seems to be a prerequisite for you. Her name is Kelley something or other. Check her out. Iâm always thinking about you, buddy.â
âOkay,â George said. He wasnât interested, but he didnât want to get into it with Clayton; better to let him think all was well with his clumsy efforts to fix George up. George definitely wanted to stay on the manâs good side. George saw Carlos Sanchez, the first-year that he was scheduled to supervise. It
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