Yearning (A short collection of yearning tales)

The consultation room fell silent, and the Chief of Medicine, Gavin Cleary, looked up at me in shock. "What did you just say, Dr. Shaw?"

I pushed the appointment form back to him. "I'd like to recuse myself from this consultation. I'm not taking Tina Fletcher's daughter as my patient."

Gavin frowned. "Mindy Fletcher is a victim of severe bullying, and she's showing signs of self-mutilation. You're the most suitable person among the city's youth crisis intervention experts to take this case."

I nodded. "Which is why I will give her a proper referral. I would suggest getting in touch with Emery Crane's team from Citizen Hospital as soon as possible, but I will not be taking her case."

Gavin lowered his voice. "You must have a reason for doing this."

I took out a form from my drawer. It was an application to recuse myself from the case, and I had already filled in the reason for my decision.

[Experienced serious past conflict with the patient's guardian, which could potentially affect neutral views and effective judgment during consultation. Submitting application to recuse from the case.]

Gavin's expression changed as he stared at the form. "Serious past conflict? Do you know Tina Fletcher?"

I did not answer his question. I just said, "I will submit all the necessary information according to procedure, but for now, I'd like to apply to recuse myself."

My assistant, Elaine Lambert, did not understand my decision. "Dr. Shaw, Mindy Fletcher's condition can't be delayed. The survival rate for cases like this will only increase if we step in as early as possible."

I looked up at Elaine. "That's why I should recuse myself while there is time. A doctor who has deep conflict with the patient's guardian is not suitable to treat the child. I can put together the assessment report for the other team, and even take part in public academic discussions on the child's condition, but I can't take the case."

Some people started whispering about this.

"Dr. Shaw usually isn't this way."

"She used to even take emergency cases for children who have no family."

"Did Tina Fletcher offend her?"

I heard everything they said but did not explain. I was reminded of an afternoon fifteen years ago. I was wearing an overwashed, old uniform with sleeves that were frayed at the side, and my schoolbag was a cheap flea market bargain that cost only $2. The zip was not working, and I had to close the bag using a safety pin.

The boy sitting next to me sniffed in my direction and covered his nose exaggeratedly. "You smell poor. Didn't your mother buy you any soap, Nora?"

Everyone in class laughed, and my grip tightened on my pencil, not daring to look up at them. That pencil was a half-used pencil that I had found on the floor.

After that, they threw my books into the bin and locked me in the toilet, pouring buckets of water all over me. During lunch, they threw my food on the ground and said that it was a meal fit for a pig. They even shared pictures of my food in the class group chat with the caption: [Check it out, a garbage collector.]

I approached Tina with blood dripping from the corner of my mouth. She was busy marking the class' homework and did not even look up at me.

"You shouldn't be blaming others for your predicament. The fault might be yours, and you should reflect on that first."

Gavin knocked on the table, pulling me back from my reverie. "This is going to cause serious backlash because Tina Fletcher is not an ordinary family member. She has been working in the education field for years and has a large network of connections. If you don't give a definite reason, it would be difficult for the hospital to explain things to her."

I pushed the application form back to Gavin. "Then we'll get the Ethics Committee to assess the situation. I'll provide all the necessary information."

With that, I got up to leave.