“It’s the big day,” Dr. Peterman says. I’m dressed in the best clothes that twelve dollars can buy from the thrift store, my fitted slacks long enough to cover my worn-out work clogs. I actually styled my hair and put on a professional and respectable amount of makeup. Today we are meeting with the board of directors at the hospital to hear their final decision about bringing me in full-time as a trauma surgeon so I can work side by side with Doctor Peterman until he retires.

I wish I could say I was more excited, but the feeling in my gut isn’t joy. It’s terror and anxiety. The feeling that this meeting could result in me settling for a life I didn’t choose for myself.

Sure the money will be great. I’ll have a chance to help people every day, which has always been my original intention. I’ll have security. I’ll have safety.

I’ll also have isolation, and definitely lots of regret.

“Dr. Peterman,” I barely manage to squeak as we stand outside the boardroom, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sloan, relax,” he says. “It’s a slam dunk. You have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not that.”

Before I can say anymore, the door swings open. I’m greeted with a roomful of the most respected members of the hospital’s board. People who I have spent the last seven years trying my best to appease, trying to prove that I am the best at what I do and that I belong in their program.

I feel dizzy, my knees buckling. Dr. Peterman grabs me under my armpit, propping me back up.

“Dr. Sullivan,” the woman says kindly. “I’ll make this quick, because I can tell you’re anxious. We came to our conclusion and we want to welcome you to the hospital as a full-time trauma surgeon. We would be so fortunate to have you with us.”

I take a deep breath, trying to talk myself out of the decision I’m going to make.

“Congratulations, Sloan!” Dr. Peterman says. “You can celebrate now.”

The grave look on my face doesn’t fade.

“I’m sorry. Everyone,” I say, making sure everyone in the room can hear me. “I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’m going to have to respectfully decline, though.”

“What the hell, Sloan? After all I’ve done for you?” Dr. Peterman says, his voice dripping with disappointment. “Do you understand what a big mistake you’re making? This is career suicide!”

“Dr. Peterman, I’m eternally thankful for everything that you’ve done for me. For pushing me and having faith in me. For teaching me so many things about how to handle a traumatic situation and fix it without thinking twice. For putting up with the pile of baggage I came to you with. I owe you so much. But right now, a big mistake sounds like just what I need.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted this more than anything in the world.” He looks genuinely disappointed, and it hurts my heart to let him down. I will truly miss spending time in the operating room with him.

“I thought I did too, Dr. Peterman, but my world is so small and I need to do something about that. Maybe I have no idea what I want yet because I haven’t experienced it yet. I need some time to figure that out.”

He wraps his arms around me, hugging me close to him. It’s the first time in seven years he’s ever done that and the tears start flowing once again. I’ve never seen him as a human before, just my superior, my idol even. At this very moment, though, he feels more like the father I never had than anything.

“So what’s your game plan, Sloan? What’s your next move?” he asks.

“I’m going to go be indecisive for a while. No game plan. No next move.”

“Well if you ever need a letter of recommendation or you feel like filling in for me while I’m on vacation, let me know. I’ll do my best to pull some strings. I’m very proud of you either way. Putting up with me for seven years through your residency and fellowship was no easy task. Neither is the lifestyle of a trauma surgeon. And you weren’t even getting paid to do it.”

“It was worth it,” I say sincerely. I might not have a dollar to my name, but I do have a lot of letters after it, including MD and F.A.C.S. I’m sure some day they will come in handy. “Well, I better go track down Carol and tell her the news,” I say to him. “I’m gonna miss that woman.” It’s true. She’s the closest thing to a mother I’ve had in years, but she acted more like the cool aunt who would promise not to tell your parents she found your weed as long as you promised to share it with her.

I catch her in the hallway, doing her rounds. She’s absolutely beaming when I approach her.

“Good news travels fast!” she says, hugging me tight. “I’m so glad I get to keep you here with me forever.”

I don’t hug her back. I just rest my head on her shoulder.

“What is this all about?” she asks. “Did they fuck you over? I swear I will walk out right now.”

“No, Carol,” I assure her. “They were very kind.”

“Did you get another job offer somewhere?” she asks.

“Nope.”

“You lost your damn mind, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” I sigh. “I just need some time to figure out what I want to do with my life. This is really all I know. Is that stupid?”

“Hell no, child!” she says, her blue eyes glimmering with her wrinkled smile. “I’ve always worried about you. When I was your age, I was out having the time of my life. I know you really love working. I know you have dedicated your whole adult life to school and medicine, but I always hoped one day you’d realize there’s more out there than just this. You know you will always have a place here. And you better take me out for drinks at least once a month so we can stay caught up.”

It’s all so clear now. Sure, Carol looks like she’s been ridden hard and put away wet, but she’s one of the most beautiful women I know inside and out, and it’s because she’s always lived life on her own terms. I hope that when I’m her age my face tells the same story.

“You got it,” I promise. “I gotta go before I start thinking rationally here,” I laugh. I hug her close to me one last time for now. “You’re awesome, Carol. I love you.”