9

On the way, my playlist shuffle perversely decided I needed to hear “Bad Day.”

But I made it back to the apartment where I picked at the leftover tuna salad as I fanned through my mail. I felt exhausted, as if someone had pulled a stopper and drained off all my energy. I hadn’t worked harder today than any other, so it had to be the suit.

I pulled out the summons and read half way through it again before tossing it aside. Why was I torturing myself? It wasn’t going to change.

I realized I was letting this get to me. I was obsessing on it. But I’d never imagined myself in this position. Malpractice suits happened to other doctors.

I also realized I was in a useless state, so I figured I might as well—as my dad used to say—call it a day and hit the hay.

A quick shower, lights out, and under the covers…

…where I lay wide awake.

Exhausted as I was, sleep wouldn’t come. Whenever I closed my eyes I saw Ted Phelan pointing an accusing finger at me.

And I had to wonder: Was it possible I’d missed something? Had something turned up on later exams that I’d overlooked? Could I—should I have done something different?

I had to get past this. I had to maintain confidence in my ability. But the truth was that even if I’d done everything right—and I was sure I had—Mr. Phelan was convinced I hadn’t. Didn’t matter that he was wrong, the fact that he thought of me as negligent throbbed like an open wound.

I threw off the covers and got out of bed. Sleep wasn’t going to happen.

I went to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of merlot from the wine rack.

I don’t know much about wine but I like a glass of red now and again. I have a hard time telling a cabernet from a merlot, so I tend to buy whichever Corky’s Liquors has on sale.

I popped the cork and poured myself a glass. Then I reached way back in the pantry for the secret stash of little dark chocolate squares called Dove Promises. I keep them there for special occasions and emergencies. Screw the carb count, this was an emergency.

I took the wine and the chocolate to the living room where I caught the last half of An Affair to Remember. I had myself a good cry at the finale. I always puddle up at the end, but tonight I bawled like a baby.

Maybe something more than a movie was behind that.

Me… wanton… reckless… negligent…

I was sure I couldn’t feel any worse, but tomorrow would prove me wrong. Tomorrow a patient would die.