medicine {h.s.}

CHAPTER ELEVEN

november.

"I don't have the time, nor patience—nor do I care—to ask why you are here on Thanksgiving," as is typical for her, she hasn't stopped moving. She's the type of person who is always moving. In the months since I've started my time here I've learned that Vargas always has somewhere to be, and she moves like it. Though she never looks like she is moving at a speed faster than a leisurely walk, it is almost always a guarantee that she'll be moving at a sprint. She expects me to be following. Not once has she stopped to check. Briefly, her head tips over her shoulder as she speaks to me, "but thank you." It is the only indication I get of her thanks for my 'sacrifice' on this beloved American holiday.

Today especially we'll be working overtime. There's hardly another employee lingering around us. Short-staffed as we are, the look on Vargas' face tells me that this is something to be excited about. This is something to be thankful for. The less people there are, the more there is for us to do.

"Thank you, Dr. Vargas," I jog to keep pace with her. She shows no indication of slowing down just to ensure that I'll be walking alongside her. "I appreciate the opportunity—"

"Opportunity?" She interjects—unable to hold in her laughter. For only a second, she pauses to look at me as though I've grown a second head. Her eyes are wide as she shakes her head. "No, honey, this is no opportunity. You volunteered for this hell." A low whistle pushes through her teeth as she cocks her head to the side, attempting to size me up. I can see the gears in her head turning as she mulls over the potential scenarios. "Let me guess," she excitedly says, biting down on her lip, "big family gathering you're skipping out on?" She's cackling as she resumes her pace, shaking her head and her braids flying everywhere behind her. "No, I know. Did all the interns gather in that too-big kitchen of yours?" I remain silent. "They did, didn't they?"

I bite down on my lip, trying to repress my facial expression from giving me away. Her assumption is true enough. Ruth was insistent on doing something celebratory of the holiday. I get the impression she was the type to have a big Thanksgiving as a child. Now, she's invited TJ over for a Thanksgiving meal. Obviously Monty was invited as well. He even opted to invite his boyfriend of not even a month.

Thanksgiving had never a memorable holiday for me. I hadn't wanted to go all out in joining the festivities. I could tell it was a big deal to Ruth who was upset that she wouldn't be able to go home for the holiday. In an attempt to remind her that the house is as much hers as it is mine, I assured her that she would be abel to use the house to host her festivities. That being said, I never agreed that I would be present.

"Styles' was not invited," I tell her smugly, and that makes her laugh even more.

"Oh, child, you should have invited the son of a bitch."

"What?"

She shakes her head, pushing the doors open that lead us into the E.R. Loud families are packing the room. Chaos is everywhere. Vargas is able to overlook it all, though. Instead, she simply juts her chin over to the left. Before she even says anything, I know exactly what I am about to see. "Now you get to spend time with him here." She turns to look at me, seeming to relish the annoyed look on my face. That stupid cackle of hers only grows louder, "happy Thanksgiving."

Temporarily, I've been relocated to general surgery. Yamamoto had the day off—unlike me, she is not keen on working herself to the bone—and insisted that if I was going to be at the hospital anyway, I might as well be with one of the more "active" specialties. Since our initial shift together, we've really gelled. There is something different about the relationship I've formed with her. I look up to Vargas highly, and I know that I am lucky to be working alongside her. But, a lot of the other residents, attendings, and fellows I've been working with have not left the same impact on me. Yamamoto looks out for me in a way that not many of the other residents have. For example, today she insisted on me working in general surgery. She promised that Dr. Eze—the chief of the OB/GYN unit—would page me should something interesting come in, but in the meantime she was insistent that I should take control of my education and make the most of my learning experiences.