Heart Over Mind

4. Ela

Whenever I see a new patient, I call myself "student doctor Ela." I've been told a handful of times that that habit alone will cut my potential experiences in half, but I don't care. I'm not Dr. Ela. Not yet, anyway. Not until I graduate next year. And I'd rather miss out on a couple of learning opportunities than deceive strangers who are willingly putting all their trust in me.

If you tell them you're a student, they won't let you do half the things they'd let you do if you told them you were a doctor.

Bullshit.

If you miss out on that half of your experiences, you'll never get to where everyone else is.

Bullshit again.

But knowing things are bullshit doesn't lessen the panic I feel while getting yelled at for choosing to not participate in all the bullshitting.

Even then so, I'm sure I'd rather be honest than lie. I'm sure I'd rather announce who I am than hide who I am. I've spent too long listening to people who are supposed to know better than me, only to realize that they don't know much at all. And I've felt the burden of those decisions too much to choose them again.

Sometimes, people are just loud. They're not all-knowing, or wise, or even experienced. Just loud. But the thing about being loud is that it bodes well to developing confidence, and developing confidence bodes well to gaining listeners. And when a person gains enough listeners, they just get even louder.

My brother is one of those people - the kind I don't want to be. Loud, with a lot of opinions he likes to shout at people who will listen. But doesn't know much. Doesn't know shit, actually. I think that's mostly because he doesn't listen. People who are so loud rarely have reason to listen, I guess.

It didn't bother me much until this past year. Or maybe he just wasn't that person until this last year. I'm not sure because I don't like to think about it so hard so often.

But the person he is was the reason I almost quit medical school half-way through. He shouted at me to come back to our home. Or maybe he begged. Again, I'm not sure because I don't like to think about it so hard so often. He shouted or he begged, but I didn't budge. I couldn't. How was I supposed to throw away a career I slaved nearly a decade over for the sake of his comfort?

I've repeated those words to myself often, hopping that the more I do, the more I can convince myself that they're true. But whenever Sid doesn't call me back, I can't help but believe he was right. Maybe he was selfish for asking what he asked for, but wasn't I just as selfish for not giving it to him?

We were raised in a family that valued family above all else, so being alone the way we ended up being felt wrong, unnatural, intolerable. So was he all that selfish after all? God, maybe I'm the loud one. Maybe he's the the one who listens. Maybe I'll never know for sure.

Just as the thoughts start to become overwhelming, my resident shuffles towards me with a familiar face. Two familiar faces. Rowan and Jasper. Wait, why are they here?

"Hey, El," Jasper grins, extending his hand out to shake mine. I take it and frown. I don't know why he thinks it's acceptable to nickname me. The only person who calls me "El" anymore is Rowan, and I've already asked him a few times to stop. The idea of someone I don't know or someone I don't like having a pet-name for me is unsettling. But I'm not sure I can handle confrontation after the few emotionally taxing minutes I've had, so I decide to ignore it.

"What's up? Do you guys need anything?" I ask while looking towards all the scut work piling up behind them. There's a bed that needs moving, a man who looks like he's about to wet himself, and a nurse who I'm sure is bracing herself to smack a patient.