CHAPTER 1 THE CHAOS COLISEUM #2
“Well, we know I love a challenge.” I turned away from the window. “School is something I love with everything in me. More importantly though, I need the PhD to further my career.”
“You’re so weird. Like, I thought you just needed the master’s degree and license for social work? Don’t get me wrong, Aife, I’m happy for you, but I absolutely do not get it. Why is the degree so important if you’re already licensed?”
A small smile landed on my lips. Social work was one of those weird degrees where a master’s was seemingly all you needed. I’d spent two hard, long years working my ass off to get that degree and an additional two, hard years earning my second licensure for social work.
Social work had to be licensed for anyone to be hired, and there were three levels to it.
Once I’d graduated, I’d spent four hours of my life on the Licensed Master Social Work exam.
After that, I spent nearly two more years working hard to earn 3,000 clinical hours to earn my Clinical Social Work license.
Then to make my life more fun, I took the same tests for Illinois so I could get my PhD and work at the same time.
I loved social work. It was my passion and my calling.
Usually, social workers stopped after the master’s degree because we could still conduct therapy whereas psychologists and psychiatrists needed a doctorate or MD.
So many fellow social workers gave me grief for pursuing my doctorate simply because I didn’t need it to practice, and employers would have to pay me more for it.
However, research was a subject I was desperately interested in, especially because I wanted to overhaul the health care system.
That certainly required a PhD. So, I had applied at the University of Chicago and a few other places and was 15 eventually accepted.
Chicago also allowed me to continue to work in the hospital setting I wanted to be in.
This was important to me and the next step in my life.
“It just is, Andrea. There’s so much change I want to bring to the world, and a doctorate degree can only help.” Tucking some hair behind my ear, I glanced at my friend. Her opinion didn’t change my trajectory, but I did care.
Dre sighed softly. “I don’t get it, but I guess I don’t need to.” She pulled into my apartment complex. “Write that intro, babe. You joining me and Natalie tomorrow afternoon?”
“If I can finalize my intro, I’m going to a pick-up game with Davis.”
“Davis…” Dre scrunched her nose. “You know, I don’t always like that dude. He’s constantly sweaty. Did you see him at tonight’s game?”
Laughing, I hugged my friend. “Yes, he is very sweaty. He’s a great footballer though. Plus, he’s the only one willing to play with me. You and Nat are not sports players, just sports spectators.”
“Well, you got me there. See ya Monday, then?”
“Yes! Be safe!” I opened the car door and stepped out. “Text me when you’re home.”
She nodded and peeled out of my complex, leaving me alone.
I sighed as I opened my apartment door. As much fun as I had with Dre, I knew better than to let myself take any kind of break.
The dissertation was the final step before I needed to submit it to my advisor and defend it in 16 order to actually earn my degree, and I had a strict timeline in order to finish it.
Unfortunately, breaks did not factor very often into my work and writing schedules.
Dre was right though: hockey was exciting and fun.
Maybe I could at least watch sports on TV while I wrote.
Popping my neck, I quickly changed into sweats and grabbed a pen and notepad.
It irritated my advisor so badly that I hand wrote my papers first.
He always said that by the time he read my typed version, it was technically not my first draft.
I had a bad habit of editing as I transferred my hand-written words to typed ones.
I tried to keep that in mind as I started on my intro.
Words seemed to flow from my pen without me even needing to think.
Social work was my passion, but medical social work was my drive.
For years now, I’d wanted to conduct research on the medical practices in the United States.
It excited me and frustrated me at the same time.
Obviously the medical world needed to be better, the question was how.
I didn’t have all the answers or even necessarily good ones, but I wanted to try. No one would ever suffer like me again.
By the time my phone beeped to alert me of a text, I had essentially finished my introduction.
Tomorrow all I’d have to do was type and edit before submitting to my advisor, Craig Donnelly.
A little smile graced my face. There had been a time where this program and my job killed me.
Times like these made me feel crazy proud of myself; my research emboldened me.
Standing up and stretching, I shot Dre a text, happy she made it home safely.
Dre was a great friend and my first one in Illinois.
When I stepped into the hospital my first day, I was so nervous because I knew no one.
Within ten minutes, Dre had hooked herself onto me and made it her mission to show me the entirety of First Memorial.
I couldn’t help but love her. She was bubbly, friendly, and smart.
She was so totally herself, and a piece of me envied that.
Andrea was a rock star operating room (OR) nurse, and I couldn’t imagine my last three years without her.
Essentially, all my friends were connected to her.
To be fair, Dre could make friends with a gator though; that was just who she was.
My phone sounded again, lighting up to indicate a Facetime from my friend. I hid a laugh as I answered Dre. “Yes ma’am?”
“Ugh, so Southern and proper.” Natalie’s beautiful face popped onto my screen, sticking her tongue out at me. She often stole Dre’s phone. “You’re really picking fucking soccer over us?”
This time the laugh escaped. “You know I love you,
Nat, but soccer is my one true love. Plus, I haven’t played in like three months!”
“Whatever. You don’t love us.” Natalie pouted.
Natalie and Dre were roommates and had done their clinical rotations for nursing together. Their bond was tighter than Gorilla glue, tighter than SEAL battle buddies. They were essentially sisters. Really, all three of us were. Natalie was a nurse in the neurology unit—my unit.
“Why would you even want to get sweaty?” Natalie asked, frowning.
“I like to?” I shrugged and headed to my bathroom to brush my teeth.
“There are far better ways to get sweaty, love.”
Dre’s puff balls popped into the frame, a huge smile on her face. “Mainly sex.”
Natalie snorted, her black hair falling into her face.
“I don’t think Aife knows what sex feels like anymore.”
“Can you forget?” Dre asked in shock. “Aife, love,
did you forget what sex feels like?”
“Maybe that’s why she’s playing soccer tomorrow—to meet men!”
They both snickered, thinking themselves intelligent.
They were always too infatuated with my love life…
or lack thereof. Clearly, I didn’t have much of one between work and school, and I genuinely couldn’t remember the last time I’d even been on a date.
Sex had been three years ago, before I left Texas.
I was fine with these things though. Love would come when it would come.
“Y’all are freaks.” I pointed my toothbrush at them.
“Soccer is for me. And I have toys to help the sex part.”
“Good for you,” Natalie said seriously. “See you Monday!”
I blew them both a kiss and shut Facetime down. A yawn forced its way out of my mouth. I crawled into my bed and pulled the covers over me. Tomorrow was going to be a good day.