The doctor is sick. Getting sick stinks. She admits, “Nobody, especially not me, counted on the doctor getting sick. Please! Enough!”
She concedes: “I won’t forget this. I promise. OK, I have learned my lesson now. Please, enough of this!”
She pleads: “I need the doctor to get well. I am afraid of being the doctor that is sick, so afraid.”
She ponders: “Does this mean I will never be free? Does this mean I will never be well? Does this mean I will never be a mother? Oh, God, does this mean I will never be a doctor?”
Then there is silence because she asks these questions of herself, and she has no answers, and no office hours today.
Somebody better call a doctor.
Acknowledgment
The author is grateful for the support of her medical school and residency program during training.