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Michelle, the night receptionist, sat behind her station sporting headphones, bobbing her head to something resembling music. My only concern was that the excessive bass from her portable CD player might pulverize her brain like a kidney stone. She saw me and allowed the headphones to slide from her ears to her shoulders. I gave her a smile.
"Hi, Dr. Lassiter. You're here late."
"Shh." I placed a finger to my lips. "Surprise inspection."
"It's been a quiet night. Not much to inspect. I think Dr. Canahan went to the cafeteria for coffee."
"I'm here, may as well carry it through." Quiet night; this should be quick and painless. I pointed a thumb towards the ER. "I'll wait for him inside."
These spot inspections weren't intense, they were more of a nuisance. The board merely wanted to evaluate the resident's unsupervised performance. Without patients, I wouldn't be able to observe young Dr. Canahan in action, but I could present him with hypothetical scenarios, then gage the speed and accuracy of his responses. These exercises held double edges. They actually helped keep my skills scalpel-sharp.
"Should I tell them you're coming?" She picked up the phone and was about to dial.
"Michelle, it wouldn't be a surprise then, would it?" Her lip curled and she crinkled her petite nose, apparently trying to grasp the sense of my logic. "Go back to your music."
Recradling the phone, and apparently regarding my tanned face, she asked, "How was Mexico?"
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