In six months, Gwen Johnston turns thirty, and when she does, she vows she'll have her life together. She'll no longer be jumping from one job to another, from one relationship to the next. A new, more mature, Gwen will have emerged. She's giving he...
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Getting out of Prince Rupert took longer than I expected. The car rental place was surprisingly busy, and even though I made a reservation, they only had this truck left. It's a hybrid, but it cannot be the most fuel-efficient option. After I finished arguing with the clerk at the rental, I stopped to grab snacks for the car. Eight hours of driving with no good food or drinks didn't appeal to me. I grab a handful of peanut M&Ms and drop them into my mouth.
What I didn't anticipate is that the silence I so craved on the bus tour is clawing and claustrophobic now.
The mindless chatter between Gwen and Esther was, in hindsight, a nice distraction from dwelling on my own depressing thoughts, which I did often enough when I was alone in my motel room. Trying to suppress the punishing desire to return to the field, escape whatever lies ahead of me on this trip, is no easy task, and I flex my hands on the steering wheel as I merge onto Highway 16.
On assignment, there's always something to be done for the community through outreach or treating patients or even being a listening ear for someone's life that's been far harder than mine. In my hotel room, I started to realize how isolated I've let myself get. My phone doesn't buzz with human connection like many of the people I work with. A few friends from back home or Angela or the occasional acquaintance from Doctors International, but even that's not frequent.
Before Diana died, I kept my connections on the job loose, and after she died, I let the strings get even longer.
To compensate for my solitude, I've spent a lot of time on this forced vacation listening to music and working out, trying to figure out how to get myself back to normal, whatever that is.
With Diana.
That's the last time I remember the restlessness inside me settling.
Maybe HR had a point. I have forgotten how to exist outside my job, and maybe that is a problem. Even if I can't say exactly what the problem is. My instinct is to buck the idea that how I'm living my life isn't healthy.
My singular focus has gotten me pretty far, kept me alive, but I'm starting to realize it hasn't made me particularly happy. Fulfilled sometimes. Full of despair at others. High highs and low lows. While I might have made a promise to continue in this line of work, I didn't promise Diana that Doctors International would be the only thing I'd ever do with my life.
It's been a long time since I've let myself dwell on Diana and how she might react. At first, that thought was a constant guiding light. What would Diana want?
But I haven't posed that question in a long time. Haven't posed any questions. Maybe it's time I start thinking about what I need answered for myself. I release a dark chuckle into the stillness of the car. Not a fucking clue where to start with that. What I need or want has never been a priority for me or anyone else in my life.
In the distance is a figure on the hard shoulder, and I squint while I try to determine why familiarity is stirring in my gut. When I'm close enough to make out that it's a woman, and that this woman is wearing the same clothes Gwen was earlier today, a spark of panic flares in my stomach. What the fuck is she doing on the side of the road.
