Sneak Peek Excerpt of Broken
Work today feels like it has every single day for the past few months: dreadful.
I don’t hate my job; in fact, I used to love it. Working at Piñon Physical Therapy has been great and being a Doctor of Physical Therapy is my passion. But ever since the Dr. Davis scandal, I can’t seem to get a moment’s rest.
It’s like all the enjoyment I got out of my job has been sucked out, and what is left is a bleak hellscape. Okay, I exaggerate—a little—but complaining is one of the few ways I can blow off steam these days, even if it is just in my head. I need to release tension somehow.
I’ve been seeing patient after patient, with an added workload, and to top it all off, I’ve got to tiptoe around because I can’t do anything that might set someone off.
We’re all feeling a bit sensitive around here since the Dr. Davis lawsuit. But I’m getting by. Or I guess you could say I’m inching by, ever so slowly, like a caterpillar.
Another annoyance has been finding a physical therapist to replace Whitney since she had to go and get married. Every time I hire someone new, I can’t help but compare them, perhaps unfairly, to her. She was just so damn good at her job.
Plus, she was my friend. Over time, she became pretty much my best friend and I miss our lunches together. I miss dragging her to my favorite sushi spot and just talking, bitching about work, dishing about boys or, more often, our lack thereof.
Now I have Laurie, a disaster in a lengthening line of disappointing replacements. And it looks like she is going to be another let down.
At the moment, I’m working with Mike, a young pilot who badly hurt his arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a much-distracted Laurie about to let her patient fall to the floor.
For all that is holy in this desert that is New Mexico. This girl is so stressing me out!
I’m able to leave Mike momentarily; we’re only doing basic stretches.
I leap over to the barre where sweet little Mrs. Sanchez is about to fall over and crack her sweet little noggin. I get to her just in time to make sure that doesn’t happen.
I shudder to think what kind of lawsuit we’d have on our hands if an intern dropped a patient. It’s something I do not even want to find out.
I never used to think about that sort of thing. Usually my first thought would go to a patient’s well-being, preventing someone getting hurt, but my whole thought process has been reorganized over this past year. The epic shit storm that slammed into us a few months ago has greatly increased my cynicism.
I motion for Laurie to move out of the way. She goes to stand in the corner while I try to smooth things over with Mrs. Sanchez.
Deep breaths, Lance, I tell myself. Deep breaths.
“I am so sorry, Mrs. Sanchez,” I say, and I really am. “I do hope you’re okay.”
And I really do. Mrs. Sanchez just laughs it off, acting like she didn’t even notice. Unlike Laurie, Mrs. Sanchez is really nice.
I apologize one more time before taking Laurie aside to have a private talk.
Generally speaking, I hate firing people. Healing people is my calling; HR is someone else’s job. Until you get promoted to a director’s position, that is.
Now I spend as much time on paperwork in the form of budget analyses and employee evaluations as I do actually seeing patients who need my help. So, while I usually don’t relish the administrative side of my job, in this particular case, firing Laurie will be sheer delight.
This lady’s been a complete bitch ever since I hired her and shit-canning her will really make me feel good. You’d think having an extra pair of hands would make my work easier, but with this one, it’s like having to babysit a grown adult.
All the work she does, I have to double check, so I’m pulling a double on top of a double. And then having to deal with her personality has been a whole added burden.
Interviewing Laurie, she seemed nice. Perhaps a little ignorant on some of the finer details about working in an office like this one, but I thought I could just teach her the ropes and hopefully she’d learn quickly. But after working with her a couple weeks, she revealed her true self. Hell, even after the first twenty-four hours, I knew exactly who she was.
I’m a tolerant boss. All that I could’ve overlooked, except one thing. She’s mean. She barely tried to get along with me, let alone other staff members or even patients.
I set high standards. I may be flippant at times and joke around in the office, but I take my job very seriously and no one can say I am anything but great at what I do.
But I rushed things with Laurie and I was too busy to keep an eye on her, so I tried to be lenient. I wanted a new Whitney so badly, I let mistakes and disrespect slide. Well, lesson learned.
I take Laurie into the hallway, out of earshot of our patients. I lean against the wall to put forth a calm demeanor. Can’t betray any emotions, like how much I’ve been looking forward to this.
“Look Laurie, you’re a lovely person,” I lie.
Translation: you are the worst, and why in the world would someone like you become a physical therapist?
“But this isn’t working out,” I continue. “I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to have to let you go.”
Laurie has her arms crossed and she’s giving me a look like she’s already got this, and me, all figured out. Oh, it’s written all over her smug cheekbones. I sigh and wait for whatever bullshit is about to dribble from her lips.
“You can’t fire me,” she bleats indignantly. “You have zero legitimate reasons. I’m great at my job.”
Honestly, I just want to kick her out right now. Or slap that look off her dumb face. Can she really not see how bad she is at working here? Is she lying to me or just herself?
“Let’s take your points one by one, shall we?” I say, not bothering to mask my glee. “First, I can fire you. I just can. We’re an at-will state. I could fire you even if you hadn’t given me so many reasons to all by yourself, which covers your second point and goes to your third. Laurie, you are terrible at your job. Just awful.”
She considers that for a moment. Given my lenience with her, I doubt she thought I’d be so blunt.
“Well, you should know that I’m going to complain to HR about you,” she finally says, loudly, so others can hear. “The only reason you’re firing me is because I won’t sleep with you. I’ve seen the way you look at me and it can’t be a coincidence that the week after you find out I have a boyfriend, I’m being let go!”
And did I mention that she’s kind of stupid?
“Laurie. Let me spell this out for you, slowly, before I formally ask you to leave. First, we both know I’ve never made any kind of pass at you, because, second, I am very gay. G-A-Y. Ho-mo-sex-u-al.”
Inside, I’m laughing diabolically as it dawns on Laurie that she has no card to play here.
“Everyone in this facility knows I’m a proud, out of the closet queer. So, whatever mean little plan you’re hatching in your mean little brain, shut it down. It will not work. You are fired. Now, I think you should leave before I have you removed.”
She tries to stare me down for a second, hoping, no doubt, to recover a shred of dignity after her humiliating misread of this situation.
I briefly worry she might pull some kind of stunt. But she simply turns around and heads to the employee breakroom to get her stuff. I wait nearby as she gathers her things, just to make sure she really leaves. She steps back out, all of her stuff in hand, and walks up to me.
“I am still going to complain to HR because what you’re doing is not right. You are an unethical, unprofessional, lying piece of shit!”
And with that Laurie storms out of the office and, hopefully, out of my life.
I know I did nothing wrong, but if she really does try and sue, I don’t know if Piñon could handle it. We’d win, obviously, but these things still cost money and there simply isn’t the time for any added distraction. We’re still pretty deep in the financial hole from the last lawsuit, all thanks to Dr. Davis.
I don’t want to be the cause for any more trouble. Many of the staff already look at me warily, not just because I’m the only “out” physical therapist here, but also because they suspect I played a little part in revealing Dr. Davis, a big money-maker for us, as a fraud.
I mean, I did, of course. But there was nothing directly pointing to me. Whitney was the one who brought forward the accusations against Dr. Davis, and she was the intern working under me at the time.
I might have provided her with some documentation that helped expose Dr. Davis, but no one knows that for certain, except Whitney and me. What everyone does know is that we were close, so they correctly assume that she came to me with her problems and I helped her.
I know my colleagues like me. But they also value their jobs and may not be willing to endanger them on my account. I know the feeling. That is, in fact, exactly how I treated Whitney when she first tried to involve me in the Dr. Davis affair.
Anyway, that can’t become ancient history soon enough. I push those thoughts aside and go back to the extra pile of work I just made for myself by firing Laurie.
I get through the rest of my patients and my ex-intern’s patients, too. Everything seems to go smoother without her, even with me having to do all of her work. I end up running a little late, but it’s not like anyone’s waiting for me at home.