Dad Texted “Skip Christmas Eve — Your Brother’s Fiancée Is A Doctor” — She Applied To My Hospital
I stared at Dad’s text message on my phone while sitting in my office at Pacific Regional Medical Center. The glow from my three computer monitors illuminated the words that shouldn’t have hurt anymore, but somehow still did. Don’t come to Christmas Eve.
Marcus’s fiancée is a pediatric surgeon. We’re celebrating her success. It would be awkward having you there when everyone’s congratulating a real doctor.
A real doctor. I was the chief medical officer of an 847-bed Level One trauma center. I oversaw 2,847 medical professionals.
I’d restructured three failing hospital systems in seven years. Forbes Healthcare had named me one of their 40 Under 40 healthcare innovators six months ago. The article sat framed in my assistant’s office because I found it embarrassing to display in my own.
But to Dad, I wasn’t a real doctor. I typed back. Understood.
My assistant Rebecca knocked on my door. “Dr. Thornton, the board wants your final recommendations on the pediatric surgery expansion by January 2nd.
Also, we have the last round of interviews scheduled for the 26th.”
“Three candidates for the Head of Pediatric Surgery position.”
“Send me their files,” I said, turning back to my screens where patient outcome data scrolled past. “I’ll review them tonight.”
What Dad didn’t know—what none of them knew—was that I hadn’t just become a doctor. I’d become the person who decided which doctors got hired at one of the most prestigious medical centers on the West Coast.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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