May 13, Rural India.
Dear John,
I quit Medicins Sans Frontiers. It was bound to happen sometime, but now that it
has I'm not sure what to do with myself. At least I can say I went out with a bang:
I broke Dr. Givre's nose. Smug bastard. Do you know? He had the nerve to tell me
that the funds had been reassigned due to concerns over 'regional instability'.
Translation: He fucked up his creative accounting and needs to cover it. It's
hardly the first time, but I just can't deal with it anymore. Let someone younger
do it. I want to make a difference, but I want some kind of consistancy. Even if
it's a low budget, I want a stable budget.
Well, that's not going to be a problem at this point. After this, I'll be lucky if I
can get a job with any of the major organizations. I've got a little saved up, think
I'll visit Hannah for a week or two. I haven't seen her since she got married. I need
to figure out where I'm going to go from here. Wish me luck!
~ Laura
- - -
May 27, Suburbs outside of San Francisco, CA.
Dear John,
Well, I'm back in the states. San Francisco is exactly as I remember it, expensive
as hell. Hannah's been wonderful, and her husband isn't too bad. I feel like I'm
taking advantage of their hospitality, though. I've been here almost two weeks.
While they haven't said anything, I know I must be a bother.
But I'm having trouble figuring out where to go from here. If I even want to think
about going into private practice I'd need to sign my life away in order to pay the
malpractice, never mind start up costs. And it's not like 'rural instruction
specialty' is in high demand in an urban OB. I can make base pay if I sign on with
a hospital, but that's barely enough to pay my malpractice. Where do they think us
OB's get this kind of cash, do I have to marry a lawyer? I know I was out of the
country for ten years, but it couldn't have been this bad before I left.
But that's not why I'm writing, not really. I have another alternative, one that
appeared on Hannah's doorstep this morning. I haven't dealt with a man in uniform,
at least in a positive light, since I finished my ROTC time. It paid for college,
and when it was done I never looked back. Until today, when an Air Force officer
showed up with words like "Job Offer" and "Interested in your specific background".
My eyes about bugged out, and I found myself agreeing to go up to Colorado for an
interview. Because it's a job. Doing rural midwifery instruction. And I'd be
civilian contracting, so there's no risk of reactivation.
After a couple weeks of cooling my heels here at Hannah's, anything sounds good. I
hope it works out.
~ Laura
- - -
May 30, Cheyenne Mountain AFB
Dear John,
It's a good thing you're not real, because I'd never be able to send this. I've
taken the job that I wrote about last time. It's not quite what I was expecting.
I'll be working out of a base and doing day and week trips for teaching purposes.
Good food and hot showers! I'll be the only OB/GYN on base, but that's hardly
surprising. Apparently the CMO specifically requested someone with my background.
There is one complication, one which I couldn't believe at first, and still hasn't
really sunk in. The base? Is in another galaxy. GALAXY. I'm shipping out tomorrow
for Atlantis (Atlantis! I won't believe it until I see it. I'm reasonably sure
this is a code name of some sort) for a two year assignment. It's a 20 day trip on
a spaceship. Thank God I'm not claustrophobic.
Exciting as all this sounds, the man who explained the position was insistant on
pointing out the drawbacks. Said fair warning was the least he could do. He said
there's some kind of a war going on, evil life-sucking aliens vs. humans.
Personally, I think he's exaggerating so that whatever's really there doesn't freak
me out. It's not like I've never worked in a combat zone before. It means that the
civilian populations are going to need more help, not less.
Another galaxy!
~ Laura
Forward to June
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