KATHERINE PAPPAS HOPED with all her heart that she’d been abducted by aliens. And that an extraterrestrial scientific experiment had sucked her brain dry.
After all, she’d much rather believe that the blankness of her mind throughout the night had been due to interplanetary interference and not because she’d just plain forgotten everything she’d ever learned in medical school. Exactly three weeks after she’d graduated. With a new job as a first-year intern at the same well-respected hospital as her hotshot surgeon brother.
Katy sucked in a calming breath. You know this stuff. Just quit with the nerves and do the job you’ve been dreaming of doing forever. She moved into a corner so no one, hopefully, would notice her until she felt ready to head to the first patient’s room for morning rounds. After wiping her sweaty hands on her scrubs, she began to organize cards on each patient she’d be seeing that morning,
The shrill sound of her phone made her nearly jump out of her skin, and her stomach somehow both sank and knotted as she answered. The words that had been so wonderful to say just a week ago seemed to stick in her throat and choke her. “Dr. Pappas.”
“Paging Dr. Katherine Pappas, world’s best surgical intern on her way to becoming world’s best family practice physician. Is she available?”
Hearing the voice of her closest friend in med school, Rachel Egan, made Katy relax and even conjure a small grin. “Dr. Pappas is available, except more likely she’s on her way to becoming the first intern booted out of Oceancrest Community Hospital only hours after arriving.”
“Uh-oh,” Rachel said. “Bad night on call?”
“The nurses are probably referring to me as Dr. Dolittle. As in do very little.” She sighed. “All night when they asked me questions, the right answer seemed to take a minute to percolate in my brain. I was sure I could do this, but now I’m worried.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Who had a straight four-point GPA in both undergrad and med school, like any human can do that? Who got the Alpha Omega Alpha award when we graduated? You’re brilliant, Katy, and you’re the only one who doesn’t realize it.”
“Then why doesn’t the perfect answer pop instantly into my ‘brilliant’ brain?”
“Because we’re nervous newbies, that’s why. We crossed that med-school finish line, and all of a sudden we have the word ‘Doctor’ in front of our names and have to answer to it. Who wouldn’t be scared? I know I am.”
“Really? You are?” Rachel had always been the calm and confident student, the one who’d earned smiles and praise from professors and attending physicians for her cool and collected demeanor. In stark contrast to Katy’s often ruffled one.
“Heck, yes, I am! I wish we’d ended up training at the same hospital. Maybe we’d both feel less freaked out if we had each other to lean on.”
“I know. But you’re happy to be back in your hometown, and I’m thrilled to be in San Diego. Plus I think it’s good that I moved in with Nick. He’s going through a hard time right now.”
“Still pretty depressed about his divorce, huh?”
“Actually, the divorce isn’t final yet. But, yeah, he’s very glum compared to his usual self.” Katy didn’t know what had gone wrong in her brother’s marriage, but it was sad that, after just a year, it hadn’t worked out. She wished she could blame his wife, Meredith, except Katy had always liked her a lot—and, as the saying went, it took two to tango. Whatever their problems, both of them had probably contributed to them.
“It’ll be good for him to have you there, I’m sure, though I hope nobody gossips about favoritism since you’re his sister.”
Favoritism? Katy hadn’t even thought about that, and hopefully no one else would either.
“So, tell me—”
Katy’s hospital call system buzzed and her belly tightened. “Gotta go, Rachel.” She punched the button and swallowed hard before she tried to talk. “Dr. Pappas.”
“Mrs. Patterson’s potassium is at three point zero, and I need to know what you want me to do.”
Okay, so that was low. She should order a potassium IV—probably four mil. No, wait. Maybe she should give it orally? A nervous laugh bubbled up in her throat as she wondered how the nurse would react if she prescribed a banana to bring up the patient’s potassium.
She swallowed. “You know, I’ll have to call you right back.”
“Are you serious?” the nurse said in an annoyed and condescending tone. “Fine. I’ll be waiting.”
“Okay.” Katy’s face burned as she turned off her phone and wiped her hands, which were somehow sweaty and icy cold at the same time, on her scrubs again. She fumbled in her pocket for her Scut Monkey book. Rachel made fun of her that she infinitely preferred using it over trying to look things up on the internet. But her little book had helped her more than once, and she was determined to get this right.
Katy gnawed her lip and studied the little book. Based on the patient’s age, weight, and kidney function, it looked like she was right. Four ml potassium to drink would be the safest, most effective approach. Okay, good. As she tried to call the nurse back she dropped her phone on the hard floor, sending the plastic cover soaring across the room.
She groaned as she grabbed up the phone, relieved to see it was still working. Klutzy Katy. Why had she been plagued with some pitiful clumsiness gene, and why did it get worse when she was nervous? Graceful under fire she was not.
She called the nurses’ station, surprised that a different nurse answered to take the oral potassium order. How many staff worked in this hospital? The number must be mind-boggling.
Right, time to get to rounds!
The patient card on the top of her pile read “Angela Roberts, Room 1073.” She went to knock on the door, pausing to inhale a deep breath. This was it! Seeing her very first patient in person as a real doctor! Yes, she’d inherited all of them from the resident who’d already seen them, but still. The thought was nerve-racking but thrilling, too, and a big, spontaneous smile came on her face.
“Hello, Mrs. Roberts. I’m Dr. Pappas, your intern. How are you feeling?”
“I’m all right, dear. Wishing they could figure out my spells so I can get the gall-bladder surgery over with.”
“We’re working hard to figure that out.” She warmed her stethoscope against her palm before examining the woman. “We’re in the process of ruling out things like seizures or transient ischemic attacks, which are little mini-strokes.”
“Strokes? I’m sure I would know if I’d had a stroke, dear.”
“TIAs are so tiny you might not notice.” Katy smiled, her chest a little buoyant as she thought about this puzzle they were solving.
“Well,” Mrs. Roberts said, waving her hand, “I trust Dr. Armstrong to know what he’s doing. Whatever he figures out is right, I’m sure. He’s a lovely man.”
Katy felt her smile slip and she forced it back up, at the same time avoiding rolling her eyes. “No doubt Dr. Armstrong is an excellent surgeon.”
And excellent at other things, too. Like giving fake excuses for not being with someone—breaking hearts in the process—then turning around and doing exactly that with someone else. Like having inappropriate hospital