Stitches and Scars

Chapter 11

"Doctors often practice deception. We give vague answers to difficult questions and avoid discussing post-op pain. We smile and walk away, wanting patients to believe we have it all together. We appear confident, capable, and compassionate, but we're lying. Surgeons, in particular, are good in deception and are control freaks. With a scalpel in hand, we feel unstoppable and above everyone else — we feel no fear and no pain. We're ten feet tall and bulletproof. But once we leave the OR, all that deception and control simply just fall apart."

Everyone in the hospital had been talking about the recent scandal involving Karylle and her mother, once a great neurosurgeon, now suffering from an incurable brain disorder.

Anne, Jericho, Angel, and even Sam waited outside the surgeon's lounge where Karylle had locked herself all night, not wanting to talk about what had happened. "K, you don't have to go through this alone. We're here for you," Anne said from behind the door.

Karylle didn't respond, making them worry even more since they had no idea what she was going through inside.

"Come on, K. Buksan mo yong pinto. We just want to know if you're okay," Jericho said, gently knocking, but there was no response.

"Hey, Karylle, I just want you to know that my great-grandfather died of Alzheimer's," Sam said, genuinely trying to comfort her.

"My god, Sam. Why would you say that?" Anne exclaimed, unable to believe what she heard.

"What? I'm just trying to help," Sam argued.

Angel was about to speak when Alice approached them. "The four of you, get out of here. This is a hospital, and there are patients waiting. Locsin, go to Dr. Martinez. You'll be hanging out with the Chief today. Milby and Curtis, head to Peds — "

"Again? Why do you keep on sending me up there?" Sam complained.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I thought I was your resident? I assign, you take. Is there a problem?" Sam shook his head. "And you," she said, pointing to Jericho, "take care of Dr. Padilla. Now, go!" Her authoritative tone sent them scattering.

She then unlocked the interns' lounge with her spare key and found Karylle preparing for her shift. "Good morning, Dr. Dixson," she said, her face blank. "I'm sorry for not opening the door. I was just preparing for my shift."

Alice approached her, concern evident despite her usual cold demeanor. "You seem okay. Are you able to work today?"

"Yes. I'm fine," Karylle replied confidently and continued sorting her things.

"Alam mo, I understand if you wanted to be with your—" Karylle immediately cut her off.

"No. As you may not know, my mother and I haven't seen each other for—" she struggled but kept her composure. "If you ask me, it's better if I'm just working today."

"Alright. If that's what you want. Today, you're on scut," Alice said firmly.

Karylle couldn't believe it. "Excuse me? I said I was okay, Dr. Dixson. I can work."

"While we take care of your mother, you can catch up on charting, run samples to the lab, go over some—"

"No. I told you, I'm fine. I'm working today," Karylle insisted.

"Okay, and I appreciate that you're fine. But as your resident, I have to anticipate a certain level of distraction from you ngayong araw, despite all the fineness you're showing right now," Alice said authoritatively. "So, scut work, Dr. Tatlonghari."

Karylle had no choice but to comply. "Fine," she said before leaving the room.

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