‘They always do with a dislocation. Once it’s back in, the pain eases immediately.’ Kelly took a juice box from a side table and punctured it with the disposable straw. ‘But it’s always best to check.’ She held the juice box out in front of Charlotte so she could only take it with her injured arm.
The little girl reached out without hesitation, snaffled the juice box and sucked from the straw delightedly beneath her mask, her eyes alight at this sudden turn of good fortune.
Kelly spoke to Charlotte’s mother. ‘The nurse will give you a sling. Keep her in that for the next twenty-four hours. She’ll be fine.’ Then she winked at Charlotte and gently ruffled her hair. ‘See you, kid. Take care of yourself.’ She drew the curtain back, stepped out of the small cubicle and back into the centre of the emergency room where nurses bustled between patients and a baby screeched from behind one of the other curtained treatment areas.
The paramedics followed her out.
‘How did you know it was a dislocation?’ the big lump asked. He looked like a whining child who’d been denied a prize. ‘We couldn’t find anything.’
Kelly sighed. Why did they have to be so tiresome? ‘How did I know?’ she said. ‘Six years of med school, one year as an intern, one year as a resident and fifty-five kilos of raw talent.’
He stared coldly down at her.
‘I guess having a penis doesn’t make you omniscient, after all.’ She turned away and her pink-striped sneakers squeaked on the floor as she muttered: ‘You arrogant fuck.’
***
‘Raj, have you actually answered these questions?’ Kelly asked. She stared at him.
Raj was a brilliant student whose parents had emigrated from India before he was born. He still had a hint of the subcontinental accent when he was stressed. ‘Well, no, but I still thought I’d be able to take part in the group.’
‘You know the rules. If you don’t answer the questions, you don’t get to talk.’
Eli, who was sitting next to Raj on the couch, clicked his tongue. ‘They are the rules, Raj,’ he said.
Kelly couldn’t tell whether he was supporting her or taking the piss. She ignored him and looked at the other two members for support, Joyce and Amber. Joyce was a petite Chinese-Australian with geometrically perfect bangs and square-rimmed glasses; they were meeting in her apartment. Amber was a no-nonsense country girl whose jeans, boots and checked shirt looked better suited to a rodeo than a medical faculty. They didn’t work at the same hospital, but they did have one thing in common. ‘We chose each other for this group because we’re the smartest trainees on the program,’ Kelly said. ‘But we don’t get any benefit if you haven’t answered the questions.’
Raj looked at his shoes, ran a hand through his short dark hair. ‘I’m sorry, Kelly. But I’ve worked three late shifts this week and just haven’t had time.’
‘Tell that to the examiner when you fail, Raj.’ She knew she sounded harsh, but it was for his own good – there was no time for sugar-coating reality. This exam was going to be brutal. They all knew it. Up to thirty per cent of trainees failed it the first time round. Many failed it more than once. They had to try to predict every conceivable question across the entire paediatric physician spectrum. If they wanted to specialise next year, they had to pass this exam first, then the clinical later in the year. They had five weeks left to revise. Failure was not an option.
‘Why don’t we take a quick break?’ Eli said.
Kelly was about to reject the idea, but Raj, Joyce and Amber were already on their feet and almost sprinting to the kitchen to make coffee.
Eli sat back in his chair and stretched out his long, denim-clad legs. He raised his arms out either side of him and dipped his head back. His Adam’s apple protruded aggressively from his neck as he made an annoying groaning sound then whipped his head back up and snapped his legs in. His black, curly, too-long hair bobbed like it wasn’t stuck to his head properly and his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. He took them off, rubbed his eyes and leaned forwards. ‘For the record, I agree with you on the Raj issue,’ he said.
Kelly raised an eyebrow. ‘Good to know.’
‘Man, you’re a hardarse.’
‘I just want to pass the exam.’
Eli clapped his hands and pointed them at Kelly. ‘And that, right there, is precisely why you won’t pass.’
Kelly stiffened. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘What do you do outside of work?’
‘I study.’
‘And what do you do outside of study?’
‘I work.’
‘Exactly. We’ve been in a study group for a year. How many times have I asked you to grab a coffee?’
‘Fourteen. And once you asked me if I wanted an iced tea.’
