Page 77 of The Night Shift
Violet
Weary from emotional drama, long antisocial hours and the physical exhaustion of swimming and cycling home, Violet crashed into bed around ten-thirty but not before she’d sent a voice message to her mum saying she’d call her later. She suddenly realised how much she’d missed her parents. It seemed unreasonable to demand their presence on a whim and she knew they’d have a normal Monday of clinics scheduled but she really wanted to see them.
When she woke mid-afternoon the house was noisy and chaotic. Marvin was back from hospital, she realised with relief, and she galloped downstairs to find him being installed in the officially designated comfiest armchair by a hovering and overly attentive Dev. In the kitchen she found her mother who was putting the kettle on and absent-mindedly wiping down the surfaces in the way that all mums who visit their adult children are contractually obliged to do.
‘Mum!’ Violet hugged her with a force that surprised them both. ‘What are you doing? Why aren’t you at work?’
‘I asked your father to cover my surgery,’ she said. ‘I got your message. You sounded sad. So here I am.’
‘You didn’t need to do that– I know how important work is, how important your patients are. They’ll have been expecting to see you, won’t they?’
‘They’ll cope, darling,’ she said, drying her hands on a tea-towel. ‘You’re our daughter. You’re the priority.’
Violet hugged her again, less fiercely. ‘I’ll go and get dressed,’ she said. ‘Let’s go out, leave Dev to settle Marvin in. I think he might have a nervous breakdown if we’re both fussing about as well.’
‘Marvin or Dev?’
‘Probably both.’
In the end Violet took her mum back to the café where she’d been with Gus after the swim a few days ago. They sat in the same seats near the wood-burner and as the memories began to overwhelm her she unburdened herself, sharing the highs and lows of the previous week.
‘The thing is, Mum– I didn’t want to tell either of you about how badly work was going. I guess I was embarrassed, ashamed really. About the fact that I wasn’t enjoying it.’
Her mother nodded. ‘We guessed as much,’ she said between sips of tea. ‘Your dad and I.’
‘You knew?’
Her mother smiled. ‘You’re not much of an actress, darling. You have many strengths but pretending isn’t one of them.’
Violet sat for a while, digesting this. ‘But why didn’t you say anything?’ she said eventually.
‘We were just waiting until you felt ready to tell us about it. Your dad wanted to ask you outright but I said you’d tell us when you were good and ready– I didn’t want you to feel that we thought you couldn’t cope.’
‘I didn’t know how to tell you though,’ said Violet. ‘I couldn’t find the right words to explain how terrified I was of making a mistake simply because I’d misunderstood an instruction, or I’d not read a situation correctly. You know, how I do all the time.’
Her mother smiled and reached for Violet’s hand. ‘I do know.’
‘And I didn’t want to admit how frustrated I was getting with patients and colleagues misunderstandingme, for not listening when I tried to explain something or taking offence when I was just trying to do my job. You know I’m not always brilliant with social interactions– suddenly having to meet hundreds of strangers every week, understand all of their “hidden agendas” like when they tell you they’ve got indigestion but really they’re scared about cancer, or God knows what else they’ve read about in the paper, andI’mthe one who’s supposed to pick up on it, it’s like my worst nightmare. At least I didn’t have to do small talk but– Mum, Icansee you trying not to laugh. I’m not the only one who’s a terrible actress.’
‘Sorry, darling. It’s just– when you put it like that– I can imagine. I guess we’d always known you were clever enough to do the job but maybe we hadn’t factored in the– uhm– other skills required to navigate the situation.’
‘I’ve got the most appalling bedside manner,’ said Violet, laughing herself now. ‘I’m not proud of it. I know that you guys adore your patients and are incredibly tolerant of their foibles, but I’m really not like you. They wind me right up. And so do the majority of my colleagues. What?’
Her mum was still chucking to herself. ‘God, you sound so much like I did in my first year, Violet. You ask your father. I spent most of my house jobs feeling like a hamster on a wheel. It was all so different to the vision I’d been sold in medical school, all so much more basic and mundane while also being terrifying. It’s hard to explain how stressful those first months are to anyone outside the profession.’
‘But you never… you’re not like that. You’re lovely and encouraging and have endless patience and sympathy with people. You and Dad, both of you; tolerant, philanthropic…’
‘No.’ Her mum’s voice was firm now. ‘I certainly wasn’t like that to begin with. I hated being a house officer. I thought about quitting. Several times. So did your father. I didn’t find that out until much later because we didn’t talk about it, you see. We all just carried on with the pretence that everything was going swimmingly. And even now, there are plenty of times where I’m frustrated by my patients, of course there are, I’m a human being. You should see me when I’ve spent the entire consultation listening to a patient complain about the fact they can’t get an appointment with me, when they are literally sat in my surgery taking up an appointment. Or when they come in demanding some bonkers treatment they’ve read about on the internet, or imply that I’m part of the COVID conspiracy. There are plenty of times I’ve been much less than tolerant and philanthropic, believe me.’
‘But why did you never tell me any of this?’ Violet was bewildered and actually a little bit annoyed.
Her mother shrugged. ‘I guess we didn’t want to put you off,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to be the kind of parent who complains about my job when I came home. You’d wanted to be a doctor for such a long time, it seemed wrong to shatter your illusions.’ She held her palms upwards. ‘I’m sorry. I can see that a little advance warning as to the challenges might have been beneficial.’
‘Yes,’ said Violet. ‘It would.’
‘The thing is– I sort of grew into the job,’ said her mum. ‘It took time but I eventually realised I did enjoy it, I liked seeing people, I liked hearing their stories. That’s why I became a GP. I wanted to see everyone, babies, old people, pregnant women, teenagers– I enjoyed hearing about their lives. But it doesn’t suit everyone. Your brain is wired differently to mine. You’re much more analytical and logical than me. And you may take a different path. The important thing is to do something you enjoy and that you feel you’re good at. Be honest with yourself, look at the elements of work you like and the ones you hate. But also bear in mind that some things are simply not fun at the moment because you are a brand-new doctor and you’re exhausted. I wouldn’t make any hasty decisions yet– you’ve got plenty of time.’
Violet drank her tea in silent astonishment. This really was a revelation. She wished she’d been honest with her parents right from the start– although she wished they’d been honest with her too. Something else that her mum had said was playing on her mind and she decided that now would be a good time to voice one of her underlying worries, one that had been there since Anjali’s comment from a few days ago.
