Chapters (40)
- Cover
- Also by Saumya Dave
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Acknowledgments
- Readers Guide
- Discussion Questions
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Part of her wants this meeting to hurry up so she can get it over with, while another part wishes she could freeze this moment, this feeling of getting recognized for all the work she’s done.
“I know your father has already prepared you for a lot of what’s ahead,” Dr. Wilson says. “You’ve done a great job of building on what he’s taught you and also integrating your own clinical style into your work.”
The wall behind Dr. Wilson has framed diplomas from all the places where he trained: Emory undergrad; Harvard Medical School; Johns Hopkins psychiatry residency, where he was a chief resident; child psychiatry fellowship at Yale; geriatric psychiatry fellowship at Emory. A massive red textbook titled Freud is on his desk. Underneath it, Intimacy and Infidelity. Sometimes being in Dr. Wilson’s office makes Suhani feel like she’s in a New Yorker cartoon. She’s spent hours in here reviewing difficult patient cases, discussing residency applicants, and receiving evaluations on her performance. Hours establishing her career as a psychiatrist.
“Thank you,” Suhani says. “His career has always inspired me, but my mom’s also a big part of why I went into medicine. She actually gave me my first toy stethoscope when I was four.”
Dr. Wilson leans back in his leather chair. He’s wearing a black designer suit, gray tie, shiny shoes, and thick, black-rimmed glasses that Suhani once read were described as “geek chic.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.” He takes a sip of black coffee from a mug that reads program director in red letters.
Of course he didn’t know that. There was no space on the residency application to discuss Mom’s steady mixture of criticism and affection, the way it was given in the exact doses to ensure Suhani would always be motivated to make something of herself.
“Yeah, she’s the one who always checked my report cards for all As and was concerned about me being well-rounded for college. She was really upset when I took my first practice MCAT and got a terrible score.” Suhani cringes at the memory of Mom standing in her doorway, covered with a contagious disappointment.
As she watches Dr. Wilson nod with understanding, she reminds herself to stay professional. He isn’t her therapist. Suhani’s always admired people like Vanessa, who can put their guard down at work, but she’s never been able to be like them.