3.
Ava
I type the last of my notes after I finish rounding on my patients, the busy halls of Mercy Hospital bustling around me. As I stride toward my office, eager for a moment of respite before diving into the stack of paperwork waiting on my desk, I spot Frank Warren, the chair of cardiology, approaching me.
“Dr. Winters,” he calls, his voice warm and friendly. “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course, Dr. Warren,” I reply, stopping in my tracks. I’ve always admired him as a mentor and role model, and his is a position I secretly covet—chair of the department.
“Are you still interested in running the fellowship program for our department?” he asks.
“Absolutely,” I confirm, feeling my heart race. This is the first step toward one day taking over Frank’s job, and I’m more than ready for the challenge.
“Great,” he says with a smile. “There’s an opportunity to make a real impact and help you get noticed. The fellowship-managing position will open up this spring. Have you heard of King George House?”
“Isn’t that the residential home where families from out of town can stay while a loved one is receiving treatment here?” I ask. I’ve had an occasional patient staying there.
“Exactly.” He nods. “They’re having their annual fundraiser in June, and this year, it’s our department’s turn to co-chair the event. I think it would be a great opportunity for you to showcase your leadership skills and help a worthy cause.”
I nod, considering the challenge ahead. Planning a large-scale event is unfamiliar territory for me, but I love the idea of stepping up and proving myself within the department. “I’d be honored to take on the responsibility,” I tell him.
“Fantastic,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’ll do a great job. This is Charles Johns’s passion project, so you’ll meet with him regularly. That connection with him will be great for your career here at the hospital. You can also talk with Cordelia Johns. She co-chaired the event last year.”
“Thank you, Dr. Warren,” I reply, my cheeks flushing with pride and anticipation. This is exactly what I need to further my career. Between my surgical rotation and clinic time, it will be challenging, but I know I can do it.
“Remember,” Dr. Warren says, his eyes serious, “this event is crucial. If you can pull this off and make it a night to remember, it’ll reflect well on your ability to lead, which factors into the decision about promoting you to run the fellowship program.”
“Understood,” I reply. “I won’t let you down.”
“Good luck.” He smiles, giving me a nod. “And good luck with Charles Johns. He’s difficult on a good day, and he’s head of the promotion committee.”
My stomach flips. This is a make-or-break situation. With newfound determination, I head straight for Cordelia Johns’s office. As I approach, her door stands slightly ajar, and I give it a gentle knock before peeking inside.
“Cordelia?” I call out hesitantly.
“Ah!” she exclaims as she looks up from her desk, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Come in, come in.”
“Thank you.” I step inside and close the door behind me. “Dr. Warren just asked me to co-chair this year’s King George House fundraiser, and I was hoping you could give me some pointers.”
“Of course!” Cordelia beams. She reaches under her desk and pulls out a massive binder. It’s at least four inches thick. “All the materials from last year’s event are in here,” she explains as she hands it over.
I take the binder, feeling its weight in my arms and marveling at the amount of work that must have gone into putting it together. “Wow,” I murmur, flipping through the pages.
“Last year, we held the event at VanDusen Botanical Garden,” Cordelia tells me. “The outdoor garden was absolutely stunning for photos, and the weather held up beautifully for late summer in Vancouver.”
“Sounds incredible,” I remark.
“Indeed.” She nods. “We were fortunate enough to enjoy Heron Lake as well. Over two hundred people attended, and it was a night to remember.”
I find myself feeling slightly overwhelmed, but I refuse to let that dampen my spirits. “And the catering?”
“Ah, yes.” Cordelia takes the binder back and flips to a section filled with menus and business cards. “We interviewed several companies before making a decision. All the information you need is right here.” She leans in. “Don’t let the binder intimidate you. The hardest part is finding the venue. After that, they usually have an on-staff party planner, and you only need to work on getting the word out. It’s pretty easy.”
“Thank you so much, Cordelia,” I say gratefully, clutching the binder to my chest. “I appreciate your help.” Though somehow, I imagine her idea of easy is very different from mine.
“Anytime,” she replies. “I’m sure you’ll do an amazing job. Do you know who your co-chair will be?”
“No. I’m not sure I even know the other department.”
She thinks for a moment. “It’s neurology. They’re super shorthanded, though, with Chrissy and Shelly out on maternity leave.”
My eyes grow wide.
“Don’t worry,” she assures me. “They’ll find someone else to help you if they can’t.”
Hoping she’s right, I wave goodbye and leave her office, the binder both an anchor and a lifeline. I have five months to get this done, and as I walk back to my office, I resolve to make this event even better than last year’s, no matter what it takes.