to address.”
“I heard back from the NIH today, about that Hail Mary grant I submitted last month.”
She sat up, her eyes wide. “What did they say?”
“The committee scored my grant. I got a great score. An amazing score. Way above the pay line. It’s most likely going to be funded.”
She jumped up from the chair. “Oh! Oh, my God!”
Then she screamed, arms in the air, and ran several laps around the living room.
I watched her, bemused, reflecting on how much I loved her. God, I was lucky to have her as a friend.
She made a victory lap back to me, frowning. “Okay . . . why are you not happy? I thought you’d be deliriously happy. Like, run-out-in-the-street-naked happy. What’s going on?”
I sat back. For the first time since losing Nick, I felt a glimmer of hope that mixed with the ever-present pain.
I’d accepted the hurt would never go away. Someway, somehow, I’d have to live without Nick in my life.
Leaving him would always be my biggest regret. I now knew from experience I’d never get over this pain, but I had to carry on. Keep pushing on.
I took a breath, pushed down the sadness.
“I actually sat down with patients today. Carly was in a car accident—”
“She okay?”
“Yeah, thank goodness. But when I sat with them, I remembered what I loved so much about this kind of work. It reminded me of the days when I worked with the ladies in my mother’s support group.”
Leigh stared, silent.
“I realized what was wrong. Finally. The thing that got me into this work, the thing that I loved most? I don’t do it anymore. I don’t work with people one-on-one, I don’t do any of the education, the coaching, the counseling. I got so caught up in the machine of it all that I lost touch.”
Leigh looked cautious. “So, what does this mean?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but . . . I’m quitting my job. I’m not going to take on the grant. I checked with the grant administrator. Adesola is my co-investigator on it and they’re reasonably sure she’ll be able to keep it. My employees will have jobs, long-term funding. They’ll be okay, thank God. I won’t be there, but my employees will have jobs. That’s the most important thing.”
Leigh’s mouth hung open. “You just said what?”
“Yep. I’m quitting.”
“And you’re smiling about it. But,” Leigh spluttered, “You just got tenure. Finally. I’ve spent the last two years listening to you explore every possible doomsday scenario. How you would end up homeless and unloved if you didn’t get a grant or didn’t get tenure. And now what? You’re just going to throw it all away?”
“Yes.” Certainty that I’d finally done the right thing rushed through me.
But it was bittersweet.
Because the first person I’d wanted to tell?
Nick.
Even with the brave face I put on, inside I was bleeding.
She sat down, looking dazed. “Alright. Okay. Anything else?”
“Yes. I’m going to start a nonprofit. It’ll be very small at first, just here in Green Valley. We’ll focus on patient advocacy to start. I’ll actually use all the patient materials, the decision aids, the question prompt lists, all the tools we developed to help patients better communicate with their doctors. I’ll get help from other clinicians and educators to do education classes and teach people how to manage their chronic illnesses. We’ll provide space for support groups, right here, so folks don’t have to drive into Knoxville. Maybe even have a day where we get a volunteer nurse practitioner in to see folks, so they don’t have to drive all the way to the hospital. That’s just to start. Then, I’m going to work on advocacy at a national level, pick some of my colleagues’ brains about advocacy work for burned-out clinicians, health care reform and getting those issues out there. I’m going to travel, try to learn more about what works in other health care systems. I can’t lie, I don’t have it all figured out at all. I’m sure I’m gonna mess up. But I’m excited to see where this takes me.”
I was breathless, excited by the possibilities, eager to find another piece, another dimension of myself.
I was simultaneously heartbroken Nick wouldn’t be by my side.
Leigh looked stunned. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
“Wow.”
I lowered the last boom.
“And I’m going to London for a few weeks.”
“Who are you?”
“Remember Christen, from grad school? The exchange student from Oxford? Well, we kept in touch over the years. She’d been begging me to visit, and I finally said yes.