Zero Bonus for Saving Lives
I was the best surgical hand in the department, and after three flawless operations in a row, I got slapped with an official reprimand and had my entire month's bonus docked.
I wasn't having it. I marched straight to the Medical Affairs Office to hash it out with the manager, Gerald Sneed. "I've given this hospital ten years! Name one time I wasn't the first one in when it mattered! Last year, I pulled five surgeries back-to-back and collapsed on my feet by the end of it! What exactly did I do wrong that you're cutting my bonus over?"
I was good at what I did, but my life outside the hospital was no easier. Mortgage, car payment, my kid's basketball lessons. I had been counting on that month's bonus to cover it, and now it was gone. I wasn't letting this slide. Since when did a successful surgery count as a mistake?
Given my standing at the hospital, Manager Sneed didn't dare go toe-to-toe with me. Instead, he tried to smooth things over. "Dr. Cole, during that surgery you ran at three in the morning two nights ago, you drank two bags of glucose solution off the books, and it ended up billed to the patient. The family found out and accused us of overcharging. It's already blowing up online. Our hands are tied here."
That's when it came back to me. That emergency surgery two nights ago had been a mess. It wasn't even supposed to be mine. I had already been on my feet in the OR for thirty-six straight hours, but the deputy director came looking for me and swore no one else could pull it off. So I gritted my teeth and scrubbed in.
The surgery went perfectly. And somehow, that was what it got me.
I took a breath and changed my tone. "I understand completely. This one's on me. I'll take a month off, go home, and think it over."
Manager Sneed, pleased with himself for scoring one against me, approved the leave on the spot.
What he didn't expect was that only a week later, the hospital director himself would call, begging me to come back to work.