Haunted Halls

"So, you're leaving for a year, you're not getting paid, and it's not going to count-so you'll still have a year left when you come back. Why would you do that?"

90 days to go. I don't want to be asked again.

I know exactly where I was 2 years ago on this night. I was on-call on the pediatric ward as an intern.

Today, when I walked past the ICU, I was very aware that it was 2 years ago last night that Gabby died in our ICU. And the next day, the only thing I could think to do was go to work and know that being on call would keep me busy and keep my mind occupied so I wouldn't think about the horrible loss at that moment.

And today, when my co-residents ask me the why I'm leaving for a year, I'm reminded that I am on outlier in my residency program. There use to be two of us, who had convictions about using medicine as a tool to bring about change, to improve the quality of life for those who lack access to fundamental care. There use to be two of us who just didn't seem to fit in as well with our peers. Somehow we aligned early in residency, and Gabby was the one person I could call at midnight in utter disgust at what I saw going on, and I could vent to her before going to bed. Gabby was the one who called me from Florida to ask what I was doing for one of her patients that I covered when she went on Christmas break. And that seemed normal. Last weekend I called the pedi intern to remind her about an order that needed to be done, and was chastised for doing work when I had physically left the building.

As I walk past the ICU doors on the way to the adolescent ward today, I feel a twinge of pain at knowing that the one person who would have never asked me the above question is no longer alive. I see a family huddled in the waiting room, and remember that 2 years ago we were in that room, hoping for a miracle, which never came.

But... I also see how much I've changed and learned in those two years. And somehow I know that her spirit is still very much alive.

And from now on, when people ask, I'm not going to justify or defend my plans. Instead, I'm going to smile and say "because I can."