Forgiveness is the sweetest revenge

Remember when this doctor made me cry?

Today was the first time we’d interacted since that day. (Except for that one second we locked eyes as he made his way to surgery.) I was alone at the station on the phone with MRI. He started to speak to me, but I put up a hand and mouthed “sorry” before finishing the rest of my conversation. After I hung up, I turned the doctor and said, “I’m sorry. What was it you were saying?”

“Just that we found out what was making that guy bleed. A student nurse found him tugging on his catheter. Apparently he was doing that a lot.” He smiled. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. What guy…. oh, yeah. I didn’t really know what to say.

“Oh, ok.” I smiled back, and he turned his attention toward the chart in his hand.

I guess we’re friends again.

Even during the doctor’s outbursts, I wasn’t angered by his reaction. From his limited point of view, his patient did not seem to be getting the care that he needed. And he appeared to be getting sicker for it. I was angered by his actions. He didn’t bother to talk to me, his patient’s nurse, to find out what was really going on. At the time I wasn’t aware that the patient ever messed with his catheter. (He always had his hands about the blankets when I checked in on him.) I did, however, know exactly what kind of care he was receiving from me. I knew there was nothing I wasn’t doing to ensure his safety and promote the healing process. I was furious that he had called my care into question so publicly without any attempt to survey the situation.

Still, I do consider this a victory in our working relationship. Maybe next time he won’t be so quick to assume.

Next time I won’t be so easily shaken.