with Mia. Ron had attended that wedding, as had the other members of their group.
“I’m enjoying geriatrics,” Connor said. “Had my second hospice visit this afternoon. I can see how much good the hospice teams do for the families in the end stages of their loved ones’ lives. I really admire the ones who do it every day, especially the volunteers.”
“Are you considering geriatrics now?” Anne asked him.
Smiling, Connor shook his head. “Still planning family practice. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and I doubt I’ll change my mind during rotations.”
“My psych rotation is pretty interesting, but it’s not on my list of possible specialties,” James Stillman commented. “I don’t mind it for this six weeks, but I think I’ll be ready to move on to something else by the time the rotation ends.”
Twenty-nine-year-old James had already earned a doctorate in microbiology before he’d entered medical school. He had said once that he kept going to school to put off committing to any particular career, a sentiment Ron had laughingly agreed with.
After dropping out of college his first semester after high school, Ron had drifted for a couple of years, trying several unsuccessful jobs before deciding to give college another try. Applying himself to his studies that time, he had done well enough in his classes—particularly his science classes—that his faculty advisor had encouraged him to consider medical school. Ron had taken the MCAT, the medical school admissions exam, half expecting he wouldn’t do well enough to even be considered. No one had been more startled than him when he’d received a very high score.
Well—maybe his family had been more surprised. His dad had predicted Ron would drop out of medical school when it got too tough. His mother had worried aloud that Ron wasn’t doctor material, and that he’d only been setting himself up for disappointment. None of his siblings thought he’d ever make anything of himself; they’d expected him to settle for the same aimless and unfulfilling existence they led themselves.
He’d made it through the interviews and had been placed on the alternates list for admission. Even then, he’d waited to be told that he hadn’t made it in. Apparently, enough first-choice applicants had declined to open up a slot for him. Rather dazed to have gotten that far, he’d secured his loans and shown up for classes—only to be slammed by the reality of the commitment he had made when he found out just how hard medical school really was. He’d been unprepared for the long hours, the constant stress, the sleep deprivation, the massive amounts of information he had been expected to learn and access on demand. Several times, he’d almost chucked it all and taken to his heels.
Only a few things had kept him on course. His pride, which had made him reluctant to admit to his family that they’d been right about him not being cut out to be a doctor. His deep desire to enter a career in which he felt he could make a difference in other people’s lives. And the people of his close-knit and incredibly encouraging study group—including Haley, whose refusal to let anyone around her concede defeat had been as inspiring as it was irritating at times.
Maybe at the back of his mind he’d kept the comforting thought that he could always move on to something else if this didn’t work out. His life wouldn’t end if he didn’t become a doctor. He’d survive if he didn’t pass the next test, or score high enough on Step 1 of the national medical licensing exam. But somehow, he’d continued to pass—maybe not with the highest grades in the class, but respectably enough to remain in good standing. And he’d passed Step 1, news he had learned only days earlier. So, it seemed that he might just become a doctor, after all.
Amazing.
“If not psychiatry, have you given any more thought to what type of medicine you want to practice, James?” Haley asked curiously. “Have you narrowed the choices down since the last time we all got together?”
Connor was the only one in the group who seemed certain about his area of specialty. He’d intended from the start to practice family medicine. Anne had entered school saying she wanted to be a surgeon like her father, grandfather and brother; now she said she might be interested in obstetrics and gynecology, which would include some surgery.
James, Haley and Ron had all kept their options open, for various reasons. Ron because he simply didn’t know, yet, what he wanted to do. He hoped he’d figure it out sometime during rotations. He had less than a year and a half before he would start interviewing for residency programs.
James smiled wryly in response to Haley’s question. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll enter law school after I’ve earned this degree.”
Everyone laughed, as James obviously expected, but Ron wondered if there was any truth in the threat. Though Ron considered James one of his two closest male friends, he had to admit he didn’t always know what was going on in James’s head. James was friendly, generous, easy to talk to, always supportive—but private to the extent that even his friends weren’t always sure they knew him very well. Ron wouldn’t be surprised by anything James decided to do after medical school—even law school.
“What about you, Ron?” Connor asked, distracting him from his musings about James. “Reached any decisions yet?”
Ron shrugged. “Still thinking pediatrics. Or maybe geriatrics.”
Connor laughed. “Quite the range there.”
Smiling sheepishly, Ron nodded. “Yeah. I like kids and seniors. You can count on both of them to tell you what they’re really thinking.”
“Not to mention that both groups always laugh at your silly jokes,” Haley pointed out.
He grinned at her. “There’s that, too.”
“How’s it going on the VA wards?” James included both Haley and Ron in the question as he reached for his wineglass.
Ron spoke before Haley had the chance. “Haley’s excelling, of course. The most prepared, most eager and most helpful medical student on the rotation. Her resident loves her.”
Haley sighed gustily in response to Ron’s teasing.
James chuckled. “I have to admit, I miss Haley’s motivational minispeeches when I try to study by myself in the evenings to prepare for the next day’s sessions.”
Haley smiled at him. “Just give me a call whenever you need a motivating speech. I always have one or two prepared.”
“I’ll do that.” James smiled back at her, and Ron found himself having to smooth a frown, for some reason.
“Darn it.” Anne scowled down at her lap, into which she had just dropped a bite of her entrée. “Now I’ve got a splatter of sauce on my skirt. Of course it missed the napkin entirely.”
“I’ve got one of those stain removal pens in my purse,” Haley offered immediately. “Let’s go to the ladies’ room and I’ll help you.”
Anne slid toward the edge of the booth. “Thanks, Haley.”
Standing to let Anne out, Ron nodded wryly. “That’s our Haley. Always prepared for anything.”
Haley punched him in the arm when she passed him on the way to the restroom with Anne. Rubbing the stinging spot ruefully, he chuckled as he returned to his seat.
“How are the two of you getting along
