Chapter Text
Robby had been in the building less than five minutes and Baran had already cornered him. “Do you have a moment, Michael?”
He turned, bag still in hand, and met her gaze across the Hub. “Does it have to be this exact moment, Baran?”
“I trust you’ve had some time to think.”
Apparently, yes it does.
“I’m going to need an answer this morning,” she continued. “Also, John ordered coffee. It’s in the break room.”
His watch read 06:13, which was true in fact only. “How long have you been here?”
“Not that long. I was prepping for later. We have a busy day ahead.”
It was always busy at The Pitt and “we” was optimistic. Thankfully, he was saved by Shen emerging from a patient room with his ever-present Dunkin’s. “We’ll talk,” Robby assured Baran before pointing at the beverage in the night attending's grasp. “I see you succumbed to tradition.”
Shen nodded. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I want to live.”
“I think you are all blowing this out of proportion,” Baran began. “It’s not Night Shift’s fault. Day Shift won’t riot without coffee.”
“Have you ever worked a ‘Spring Ahead’ where Nights didn’t buy Days coffee, John?” Robby asked.
Shen shook his head. “I think it’s in our contract.”
Rolling her eyes, Baran sidestepped the two of them. “Thank you for the coffee, John. And Michael, do find me.” The ambulance bay doors whooshed open as Mohan, King, and Langdon entered together. “This morning, please,” Baran added before walking to greet the arriving residents.
“Sounds like you’re in trouble,” Shen said and took a large slurp of his iced Dunkin’s.
“Nah, just two colleagues needing to have a professional conversation about work-related items.”
“So you’re going to the principal's office.”
“Technically, it’s my office again,” Robby said as he finally dropped his bag under the desk and glanced more closely at the board. No one was actively dying, but who might be close? And then, who was ready to get the hell out of here?
With Days’ seniors on site, handoffs would soon be underway with Henderson and Fischer. Shen left to join them. Junior residents and med students raced to connect with their outgoing team leaders beforehand.
“Dr. Robby, may I present?”
Apparently, there were not enough grown-ups to go around. Zhang had a tablet at the ready and was staring at him expectantly.
“Morning, Zhang, heard you had a short night.”
“Didn’t feel short but it was fun to watch the clocks skip an hour in Epic. Bummer to lose the hour of pay, though. Anyway, I have a twenty-nine-year-old with a simple ankle sprain. Films are negative, she’s walking, pain’s controlled. Okay to discharge?”
“Discharge with what?”
“Ace wrap, NSAIDs, return precautions,” Zhang answered.
Robby nodded. “Do it. You know you get paid for the full shift even with the missing hour.”
“We do? Oh, that’s great. Thanks, Dr. Robby.”
Robby watched the intern dart off to handle the discharge.
“Dr. Robby?” Allen cut in immediately. “May I present as well?”
“Shoot.” It was too early for this.
“I have a four-year-old with what looks like nursemaid’s elbow. Mom says she pulled him up by the arm when he tripped but he’s also got bruising on his back. I should get Social Work involved, right?”
“Yes. Kiara’s coming in. Not sure who’s going out. Let me know if you can’t find them and I can assess.”
Allen nodded. “Cool. Not cool, sorry. Thanks.” She scuttled off and Robby looked around to make sure the queue was finished.
“You’re on Duckling Duty,” Lena drawled from her desk. “Cute.”
“Duckling Duty?”
“Yeah, their Mother Goose had the night off. I think they found a replacement.”
“Shouldn’t that be Gosling Duty then?” he groused.
She scratched her face with her middle finger in his direction.
“You learn that move from the children?”
“What’s wrong, Robby? Didn’t get enough sleep?”
He glared at her.
She scoffed. “Oh please, Nights fucks with our circadian rhythm every shift, Robby. We die five years earlier, on average, than those of you on Days. Besides, we have to work a thirteen in November to make up for it.”
“Dr. Robby?”
Lena smiled deviously. “Your flock awaits. They’re used to Murph, so be nice.”
“Go ahead, Veiluva,” Robby said, turning his back to Lena and taking in the MS3 eagerly awaiting his attention.
“Thirty-six-year-old woman, two days of abdominal pain, nausea, no vomiting. She says it started around her navel but now it’s mostly lower right. Afebrile, vitals stable. I was thinking appendicitis?”
“You might be right but let’s find out for sure.”
Robby followed the lanky student to Central Eight where the patient lay tensely on the bed. She looked up when they entered but remained completely still. Her right arm lay atop her stomach as if shielding it. “Hello there, I’m Dr. Robinavitch. Dr. Robby is fine. I’m told you’re experiencing some abdominal pain, Ms…” He flicked his eyes to Veiluva.
“Ms. Weston. Sarah Weston,” the student supplied.
“It started yesterday while I was at work. I thought it was my period but then I didn’t start bleeding. Then I thought I had the flu but I didn’t throw up. I haven’t been able to sleep waiting for it to pass.”
“I’m glad you came in,” he told her. “Student Doctor Veiluva here is going to perform his examination of your abdomen again while I ask you some questions. Is that okay?”
She nodded. Veiluva took his spot next to the bed. “Can you move your arm so I can check your belly?”
She reluctantly withdrew it, eyeing his gloved hands with concern.
“Any diarrhea?” Robby asked.
“No.”
Veiluva started pressing gently in her upper left quadrant. Good.
“Pain when you urinate?”
“No.”
Upper right quadrant was pain-free.
“Any chance you could be pregnant?”
“No. My husband had a vasectomy.”
Lower left, clear.
“We’ll check anyway.”
“Mothertrucker! Fudgicles!”
Bingo. Lower right quadrant.
“Tenderness over McBurney’s point. She’s guarding,” Veiluva announced.
“Voluntary or involuntary?”
Veiluva checked again. “Involuntary, I think.”
“Good. Stop there.” Turning back to the patient, Robby smiled. “Sorry for the discomfort, Sarah. You’re showing signs that make us concerned about appendicitis, exactly as Student Doctor Veiluva suspected. We are going to get some labs, run a few tests, and likely get you into CT to confirm.” He stood, peeling off his gloves. “Nice work, Veiluva. Grab a resident and get her worked up.”
He left the room, sanitizing his hands, and saw King with Langdon across the hall, engrossed in conversation.
“—but Becca prefers apple,” King was saying.
“Dr. King,” Robby called. “Can you jump in with Veiluva on a likely appy?”
“I haven’t clocked in yet.”
“And yet you’re on the floor. Get here early, work early. That’s how it goes.”
“I can do it,” Langdon said.
“You’ve got shift handoffs,” Robby corrected.
King looked between them uncomfortably.
“It’s okay, Mel. You hop on it,” Langdon said. “Robby’s right, I’ve got to prep for rounds.”
She exhaled. “Okay, I’ll go punch in then help Veiluva in…”
“Central Eight.”
“...in Central Eight. Thanks, Dr. Robby. Apple for sure, Frank.”
“You got it,” Langdon answered.
In her absence, the conversation didn’t immediately resume. Robby could hear Langdon fiddling with the tablet in his hands but did not look over until the R4 cleared his throat. “Um, Myrna died last night,” Langdon said. “Henderson just told me.”
Robby’s heart sank. The frequent flyer had made it up to the ICU yesterday, and they’d hoped she’d pull through. “What changed?”
“Septic shock. Pressors stopped holding her around 04:00.”
Damn. He’d miss her randy harassment.
Langdon took a deep breath and then huffed a small laugh. “She used to call me Sugar Tits.”
Robby hummed. “Fruitcake.”
“Nice.” Langdon tapped his fingers on the tablet again. “I’d better get back to handoffs.”
They moved past each other without another word, heading in opposite directions. Robby shoved his hands in his pockets and curled them into fists as he began a lap of the unit. He made it a total of fifteen feet before Baran accosted him.
“I checked with Gloria and she is willing to be present if you are unable to join.”
“Baran, I promise we will talk, but please”—for the love of god—“let me get the department settled first.”
“Our work here is never settled, Michael, but of course. We can talk after rounds.” She set off on a brisk walk toward a batch of incoming Days staff. Donnie, Jesse, and Eyassu, all bundled up from the chilly morning air outside. They greeted her warmly as she checked in with them. Robby realized after a moment that he was still watching and brought his gaze back to the immediate task of medicine. He was here to do medicine.
Strolling back toward the Hub, he kept his head on a swivel to observe the chaotic coordination of shift change. More bodies than the unit comfortably could hold. More voices, more questions, more opinions. And through it all, the neverending stream of patients coming and going. Mostly coming. Actually, mostly waiting. He bent to pick up a discarded patient passport from the floor and threw it in the trash.
“Throwing them away only spawns more,” Dana said from behind the desk, nursing a cardboard cup of coffee. She handed him another. “Drink. How are you already pissed off? What are you two fighting about now?”
“Who says I’m pissed off?”
Dana looked at him, face blank. After several beats, she turned back to the board. “Nights did a nice job clearing us out.” She knocked absently on the wooden trim of the desk. “Which is good because the waiting room is bursting at the seams. Per usual.”
“Zhang’s discharging his ankle sprain,” Robby informed her.
“Great. I’ll watch for it.”
“My buddy, Duke, is supposed to come in today for some follow-up tests. Can you keep an eye out for him, as well?”
“Of course. Haven’t seen him in a while.” Dana paused and looked directly at him. “Hey, Robby, Myrna passed last night. Not sure if you heard.”
“Langdon told me.”
Dana sighed. “She was such a pain in my ass.”
“Yeah, mine, too.”
They sipped their coffee together for a moment as the unit bustled around them. Mostly gray, blue, navy, and black scrubs, with half the staff wearing a PTMC sweatshirt on top. At least they match the scrubs.
“Sup, Robby. Is that Dunkin’s?” Santos dropped her arms heavily onto the desk next to him. “Anything good for me to pick up before rounds? I did a lateral canthotomy with Dr. Gupta on Friday and it was awesome. Hoping for an escharotomy today to complete the set.”
“Trinity,” Robby chided.
“Ugh, I mean, I would be happy to help with one if one were to come in today.”
“Better. Where’s Whitaker?”
“Farm Boy is off doing farm things.”
Lena joined the huddle. “Allen has an axillary abscess that needs draining and needs a resident. Santos, since you’re itching for a case, you’re up."
“I haven’t even gotten my coffee yet,” Santos protested.
Robby rolled his eyes at her. “Get here early—”
“—yeah, yeah, work early, I know the drill,” she griped but she stood and checked the board. “South Eighteen. Allen. Abscess. Got it.”
He shook his head as she slunk off. Some things didn’t change, at least. The charge nurses watched her go as well.
“She complains but she’s getting better with the students,” Lena said.
Dana laughed. “She made Terrado cry last week. I’d say she has her days, some better than others.”
“To be fair, Terrado has cried…” Lena trailed off and cleared her throat as the student in question approached with Huang and Crawford. “Good morning, you three. Hope you’re ready to learn on this beautiful Sunday.”
Robby took in their exhausted faces. “There’s coffee, courtesy of Nights, in the break room. Be quick. We’re starting rounds in five.”
They ambled off and Dana smacked Lena on the arm.
“What? She didn’t hear me.”
“Gotta be careful in an open concept workplace,” Robby provided unhelpfully.
Both charges turned to stare at him.
“The things I have heard you say to people in this ‘open concept workplace,’ Robinavitch,” Dana said. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Yes, Danielle.” She pivoted to address the night nurse standing to the side.
“The gentleman in North Five requested a female nurse for his Foley.”
“He did, did he? Don’t they all? Send Jesse in. I’m not taking requests this morning.”
Danielle smirked. “Sure thing.”
“Men and their penises.” Lena rolled her eyes.
“Men and their rectums,” Danielle shot back. “Three foreign bodies—three!—this shift alone.”
Lena laughed. “I know, it’s a glamorous job. But, in a few short minutes, it won't be our problem anymore. Pass him to Jesse and finish your charting.”
Danielle gave a thumbs up and left. Robby clapped his hands together. “I’m going to start huddle.”
He moved to the side of the desk where Days’ staff were already gathering. “Good morning, team! Yes, it’s early. Yes, we’re all tired. There’s plenty of coffee in the break room—thank you, Dr. Shen—but do not leave it around the unit, please and thank you. Analog clocks were updated by custodial already. Make sure any personal timepieces are updated as well. Dr. Al-Hashimi, anything to add?”
Baran stepped forward from where she had been leaning against a wall. “Keep checking your generated notes. Dictation is a great tool but isn’t always accurate. Thank you all for being here. Let’s do our best for our community today.”
Langdon and Mohan took over from there, guiding the attendings and available Days’ team through the census, highlighting the critical and potentially dischargeable patients.
“Susan Mitchell, sixty-four with COPD, increased dyspnea and sputum for three days,” Langdon presented. “Workup included nebs, steroids, chest X-ray negative, viral testing negative. Now maintaining acceptable sats at rest but they dipped with ambulation earlier. Repeat walk is pending.”
“What was she after her last neb?” Robby asked.
“Ninety-three on room air,” Langdon answered. “If sats look as good post walk, discharge with steroids and a bronchodilator and close follow-up.”
“What support does she have at home?” Baran asked.
“Husband lives with her, I know that much. Not sure beyond that.”
“Find out before she goes.”
“Will do, Dr Al.”
Robby returned to his line of questioning. “And if sats drop?”
“Admit to Medicine.”
Robby nodded. “Sounds good.”
In the next room over, Mohan introduced the patient. “Arthur Weisberg, seventy-six, and his wife, Alice. Syncopal episode after getting out of bed. Brief LOC witnessed by his wife. She also reported poor PO intake for several days. ECG reassuring. CT head negative. No recurrence. Henderson thought likely orthostatic syncope secondary to dehydration. He got a liter overnight and is feeling better. Repeat orthostatics are pending.”
Robby looked at the elderly man in the bed watching them quietly. His wife sat next to him, holding his hand tightly. “If those normalize, he can go.”
Mohan looked at him directly for the first time, eyes narrowed slightly. “He’s seventy-six and we still don’t have a definitive reason for the syncope. I was thinking observation.”
Fair enough, we can do it your way. “Okay, let’s hold for observation. Sorry, Mr. Weisberg. You’re going to be with us a little longer.”
Mohan also addressed the patient. “It’s for the best, Mr. Weisberg. We want to make sure you’re safe to go home.”
“Thank you, dear,” Alice said, squeezing her husband’s hand and smiling nervously at Mohan.
“Someone will be back with you soon. Call a nurse if you need anything in the meantime.” Disengaging from the couple, Mohan left the room without making eye contact with Robby again. Baran, on the other hand, did not have that problem.
Robby raised his eyebrows in a silent question. What? I didn’t do anything!
Baran didn’t respond. She followed the senior residents back into the hall. Rounds continued as they moved through patient reports and rooms at rapid fire. Marcus Bell, renal colic; discharge with NSAIDs, Flomax, and a strainer. Tasha Greene, migraine; PO challenge and reassessment, then discharge if symptoms stay controlled. Marcia Price, abdominal pain and constipation; bowel regimen, fluids, and reassess for discharge versus observation. Miles Miller, hand laceration; tetanus updated, discharge with wound care and suture-removal instructions. Harold Jenkins, urinary retention; admit for AKI and further evaluation, awaiting Med-Surg bed.
Baran watched him throughout with that look on her face that said she was in audit mode. I’m not the one up for the job.
Mohan stepped forward to present her final patient. “Enie Ibarra, fifty-eight, fever, dysuria, and flank discomfort overnight. UA strongly positive. CT without obstructing stone. She received fluids and her first dose of ceftriaxone. Vitals normalized. Tolerating PO.”
Good. Uncomplicated pyelo. “She can go home on oral antibiotics if she can keep tolerating PO.”
Mohan looked at Baran and then back at Robby when his co-attending remained silent. “Her daughter can’t pick her up until noon. I was going to give her another liter of fluids and reassess before discharge.”
Robby also cast a quick glance at Baran. She was usually all over this kind of family detail. “Okay, sure," he said. "That’s a good plan. Be prepared to move her into the hall if we get busy, though.”
Langdon finished them out one door down. “Cheryl Brown, seventy-nine, fell at home on Eliquis. CT head and C-spine negative. Hip and pelvis imaging negative. Labs okay, no syncope. But she struggled on an ambulation trial overnight and she lives alone.”
“What do you want to do?” Robby asked.
“Repeat ambulation after breakfast. If she still can’t safely get around, PT and Case Management. I’m not sending her home if she can’t get to the bathroom.”
Baran finally broke her silence. “Any family support?”
There she is.
“A son. He’s on a business trip but he’s been notified.”
As they headed back to the Hub, the students and junior residents peeled away to start working up patients. The quartet of attendings and seniors reached the central spot together. Dana signaled to them to wait and then went back to speaking on the red phone.
“Dr. Robby, why don’t we change it up a bit today and have Dr. Mohan present to you. I’ll take Dr. Langdon.”
Fucking Baran.
There was no use fighting it. Honestly, Mohan shouldn’t be allowed to avoid him like she usually did so this was the right call.
“Fine,” Mohan said in a tone that bordered on not fine.
“I’ve got your incoming,” Dana called out as she lowered the phone. “Three rigs: eighty-two-year-old female, acute respiratory distress with fever and cough; seventy-eight-year-old male, unwitnessed fall on Eliquis with scalp lac; and seventy-four-year-old female difficult to rouse this morning and altered mental status.”
Robby cast about for staff. “Langdon, grab Eyassu and Terrado for the respiratory—let Eyassu take point with Terrado, if you can. King, take Huang for the fall—she assisted with one last week. Let’s see if she can lead one. Mohan, Crawford, with me for the altered. Baran, wherever you please.”
Staff hurried to gather their teams and glove up as the ambulances began pulling in. Robby, Mohan, and Crawford grabbed the gurney as it arrived and helped move the woman inside. “Mohan, let’s see what you got,” Robby said. “This one’s all yours. I’m just an extra pair of hands.”
“Surprise Number Four is two out,” Dana shouted as they moved past. “Eighty-two, coffee-ground emesis, generalized weakness.”
Robby’s eyes found her across the bay. “Baran!”
“On it!” She had her gloves on and was already bustling to the door with Santos and Princess in tow.
Medic Johnson rattled off his handoff as they wheeled the bed through the hall toward Central Eleven. “Sharon Knowles, seventy-four, difficult to arouse at morning check. Recently finished Keflex for a UTI. Temp 38.3, HR 108, initial BP 92 over 58. Gave 250 mL of normal saline through an 18 in the left AC. Glucose 118.”
Mohan looked from the patient to Crawford. “Zach, what does the glucose tell you?”
“She’s not hypoglycemic,” Zach supplied.
“One-Two-Three!” they called in unison, lifting the sheet and shifting Ms. Knowles to the hospital bed.
“Good,” Mohan continued as she assisted Olive with attaching monitors. “Any other questions for Medic Johnson?”
“Did she have any facial droop or unilateral weakness?”
“Stroke screen negative. No obvious focal deficits.”
Altered compared to what? Robby stayed quiet and waited for Mohan.
She waited a few seconds longer than necessary but got there. “Before we call her altered, Zach, what do we need to establish?”
It was like pulling teeth. Robby took a deep breath in order to allow the lag to continue.
“Her baseline mental status.”
“Exactly. Ask.”
Crawford did and Johnson responded, “Staff reported that she is pretty independent at baseline—alert, conversational, knows where she is—but seemed ‘off’ yesterday.”
“Check the lines, Zach,” Mohan instructed, pointing at Ms. Knowles’s IV insertion site. “Let’s get another 500 of LR.”
Olive moved to attach the bag.
“Okay, Zach, seventy-four, acute change from baseline, febrile, tachycardic, hypotensive. What are you thinking?”
“Sepsis.”
Looks like it but from what?
“Good.”
Not good enough.
Mohan continued. “Source?”
“Urinary?” Crawford shrugged. “She just had the UTI.”
Robby waited. Would she catch it? Or would she also be distracted by the window dressing?
“Could be. What else?” Mohan responded.
Several moments passed as they stood around the elderly patient. Nothing.
“What else, Zach?” Mohan repeated.
This is taking too long. “Think of her lungs, Crawford,” Robby guided.
“Oh,” the student said. “Pneumonia.”
Robby nodded. “Right.” He could feel Mohan’s eyes boring into him. He met her gaze. “Today, Dr. Mohan. We still have a patient here who needs treatment.”
Her nostrils flared slightly but she took the correction. “Alright. Let’s get a sepsis workup. Cultures, lactate, CBC/CMP, UA/culture, chest imaging to start. Zach, what do we need to consider before giving her more fluids?”
Now we’re moving.
Mohan didn’t look at him again throughout the assessment. As soon as it was over and the patient was bundled off for a chest X-ray, she gave Crawford a few words of feedback and stalked out of the room.
Robby scowled. Sorry I came back and ruined the good thing you had going on with Baran. But this is unacceptable.
He needed to speak with Baran. Stat. Setting off around the unit, he passed Ahmad with a stack of sticky notes. “Do you know if Dr. Al-Hashimi is still with her Morning Rush patient?”
Ahmad shrugged. “Beats me, Robby. Hey, do you like pie?”
“Ahmad, now is not the time.” He spotted Baran chatting with Eyassu by the break room and headed over.
“Thanks, Seble,” Baran said, continuing her conversation and ignoring Robby. “Excellent work. You’re really coming along with your instruction of the students. Keep that up and come find me or Dr. Langdon when the results are back.”
The intern smiled under the praise. “Thank you, Dr. Al.”
Once Eyassu left, Baran turned her attention to him. “Do you need something, Michael?”
“A word, actually. In private.” He peered through the window into the lounge. Empty. He opened the door and they stepped inside.
“You seem upset,” she began.
“Well, I have some concerns about Mohan.”
She stared impassively at him, assessing. Several blinks later, she spoke. “Michael, would you be open to some feedback?”
Not particularly. “Always.”
“Can you walk me through what you were trying to accomplish with the feedback you gave Samira during rounds?”
“She didn’t need a lot of feedback, Baran. I backed all her plans.”
“Yes, I agree that her recommendations were appropriate and thorough. You seemed a bit perturbed, though. Can you talk about that?”
Can you talk about that? Fucking corporate bullshit. Robby crossed his arms. “If I seemed ‘perturbed’ it was because a senior resident was demonstrating negative body language toward me in front of patients.”
Baran set her tablet down on the table. “Yes, she was uncomfortable at times, that was apparent.” She clasped her hands together and rested them in front of her. “If I am hearing you correctly, you are upset that she wasn’t friendlier toward you during rounds.”
“Don’t do that.” Robby shook his head. “I don’t need that. I am asking for a base level of respect that is crucial in medicine. We don’t get to choose who we work with and remaining professional is a must.”
“I agree. Respect is important. Aside from her discomfort with you, do you feel she failed in her clinical responsibility?”
“No.” Mohan practiced good medicine. She was slow as hell doing it sometimes, but she was solid.
“Do you feel she is typically disrespectful or is the behavior intermittent?”
“It flares up out of nowhere sometimes.”
She nodded. “Langdon is uncomfortable with you, too. You can barely greet each other in the halls. And yet, you don’t seem to have the same issue with him.”
“Langdon and I can practice medicine together without any issue, Baran. We have our differences but he’s a big boy and he can handle when I correct him.”
She exhaled sharply through her nose. “Michael, you didn’t correct him. You asked him questions. Whereas you told her things.”
Not even remotely true. He thought back to rounds but couldn’t remember the specifics.
“She got used to me facilitating her avoidance, true,” Baran admitted. “And she is exhibiting some attitude which must be addressed. But I think that is an understandable reaction for someone who feels like her supervisor doesn’t listen or care about her opinion.”
Robby scoffed. “I care about her opinion. I back her plays.”
“You don’t give her the time to show her work. And that is demonstrably different from how I just watched you treat Langdon and how I’ve watched you treat others in this department.”
Yeah, you’re always watching. “Look, Mohan and I ended things on a shaky note before I left. Given that she avoids presenting to me like the fucking plague, I would venture she may still be harboring some resentment toward me.”
“I am well aware of how things ended on the Fourth, Michael. I was there and I’ve been working alongside Samira for the past eight months. I also know that I have contributed to this situation by allowing her to present around you as much as possible for this long. I was hoping that with a little time, the two of you would be able to move past your tiff.”
“Tiff?”
“You yelled at a resident who was having a panic attack. You repeatedly berated her for mistakes and pacing. I believe your final advice was that she leave her dedicated field of study for Geriatrics.”
“I apologized that night.”
“Yes, I am aware of that as well.”
Of course you fucking are.
“It’s been a month, Michael. This has gone on long enough and you are the chief attending. You cannot avoid one of your senior residents and she cannot avoid you.”
“You just want me to back your play here. Forcing her on me isn’t going to convince me, Baran.”
“Oh,” Baran said, “you’re ready to talk about it finally? Please continue.”
Walked right into that one. “You know my stance.”
She stared at him for several seconds, eyebrows raised. “The entire administrative team knows your stance, which is remarkably offensive to me given that your objection seems solely rooted in that you weren’t here to have a say.”
“We don’t need a Chief Resident. We operate fine with our seniors.”
“Is that you telling me as if I didn’t just run this department for seven months?”
“It’s the truth, Baran. Getting Gloria to approve this position is impressive but it is an unnecessary expense. With the funding, we could open another fellowship or hire more base residents. Create an R5? Our seniors are equals right now, why manufacture a hierarchy? Do you really want our R4s all answering to one peer?”
“No. Not answering to. Working with. Many teaching hospitals have a chief resident to help manage cohorts. They help immensely with staff morale and communication, equity and inclusion, and resident training.”
Robby shook his head. “And if we’re opening a position, why aren’t we holding interviews? All of the seniors should have a shot at it if they want it. Have you considered any of the others?”
“Do you really think I haven’t considered all the options, Michael?” Baran glared, the professional mask slipping. Good. “Clara is not eligible because she missed hours and will be graduating asynchronously. Crus has already accepted an ultrasound fellowship—which has been a longtime goal. Are you saying you want Frank?”
Of course not. And Administration would never approve him. “Everyone deserves a fair shot.”
She pressed her lips together hard and took another deep breath. “You cannot come back and assume your knowledge of this department automatically supersedes mine or that you can overturn decisions made in your absence.” Her tone was sharp. “It’s Samira. As you know, the decision has been made and approved.”
“I’m not trying to undo everything you’ve done. But you're asking me to help you make a change I don't agree with.”
She ignored him and continued. “We’ve waited to ask Samira out of professional courtesy so that you could be part of the process. I hope you will extend the same courtesy to me now. I don’t want to be forced to have Gloria sit in for you when we make the offer.”
He shook his head again. “I don’t know if I can. I’m not sure I can endorse her—this—like that.”
Baran set her jaw. “Understood. While this is extremely disappointing, I can’t say it’s exactly unexpected. I’ll have Gloria join me.”
She saw herself out.
Fuck.
Robby looked at his watch. 08:06. It was going to be a long day.