{"id":3114,"date":"2017-12-03T17:03:06","date_gmt":"2017-12-03T17:03:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/?p=3114"},"modified":"2023-02-14T03:01:44","modified_gmt":"2023-02-14T08:01:44","slug":"doctor-patient-confidentiality-chapter-thirty-one","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/doctor-patient-confidentiality-chapter-thirty-one\/","title":{"rendered":"Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Thirty-One"},"content":{"rendered":"

The curtains rise slowly, revealing our ensemble of violinists and vocalists to an incredibly large, seated audience.<\/span><\/p>\n

The enormous stage lights are bright and feel hot against my face and neck, perfectly illuminating our musical assembly from high above our heads. The auditorium is packed, just as I expected it to be\u2014as we \u0938\u092c <\/em>expected it to be.<\/span><\/p>\n

The annual Weitzman performance is one of the events that always gets sold out quickly. Last year, I was seated in the audience, far behind on the other side of the renowned stage my moccasin-clad feet are currently planted on. I had been restless at the time, feeling giddy and excited for the whole duration of the show as I watched my upperclassmen perform their hearts out.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0I\u2019d been so eager to see the show that I ended up staying in my seat the whole time, even during the intermissions. I didn\u2019t want to miss a second of the experience, even at the expense of my unhappy bladder, so I sat there for two and half straight hours in sheer amazement, just happily taking it all in. I kept imagining what it would feel like to be up here, and I couldn\u2019t wait to find out. Now I know, although I never imagined I\u2019d be feeling the disappointment I feel now.<\/span><\/p>\n

Get a grip, Roni!<\/em> I mentally shake myself. I need to get out of this funky mood, at least for now. What\u2019s done is done, and I\u2019m here now. I may not be in the exact position I thought I\u2019d be, I may not be in the exact position that I want, but I\u2019m still here, dammit! And this is still a performance that I\u2019m going to be judged on, one that\u2019s going to count toward a good portion of my final grade at the end of the semester, so I have to bring my A-game, no matter what.<\/span><\/p>\n

Besides, when I really think about it, just having the privilege to be on this stage is more than enough, and this moment is too important to me to not give it my absolute best, regardless of whatever else is going on in my life. There\u2019s no point in beating myself up over what I can\u2019t control.<\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t even have the time to fully process all the emotions running through my mind all helter-skelter. I\u2019ll deal with all of it later. Right now, all I\u2019m going to focus on is singing my ass off, because that\u2019s all that matters.<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/span><\/p>\n

An energetic chorus of claps bursts through the auditorium, echoing and reverberating throughout the hall. The audience is full of smiles, and they all rise in a magnificent standing ovation to demonstrate their praise. The smacking sounds crack through the air and bounce off the walls and ceiling, making their way to the stage and back. A few whistles and verbal cheers make their way through the tidal wave of claps as well.<\/span><\/p>\n

The applause is even grander than the audience creating it. They\u2019re clapping and cheering as if they\u2019re getting paid to do it. It\u2019s obvious that they really enjoyed the show.<\/span><\/p>\n

Normally, I\u2019d be getting an incredible rush of adrenaline by now.\u00a0 I\u2019d always imagined I\u2019d be feeling ecstatic in this very moment, right after such a huge and highly anticipated show, but I feel anything but.<\/span><\/p>\n

I should be on \u2018the ultimate high\u2019 after seeing their reactions, I should be making my way up to cloud nine, but instead, all I feel is numb right now. Numb and demoralized and\u2026unsure. Unsure of everything<\/em>. Life seems to have a fondness for doing that to me lately. The curtain lowers and shields our ensemble from the view of the audience once again, but we can still hear the very audible slaps and smacks of their seemingly undying applause.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, my gosh, you were great, Kayla!\u201d I hear someone say. \u201cThe audience loved you!\u201d they continue to gush.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m afraid to turn and look to see who it is, so I don\u2019t. That\u2019s the last thing I want to be hearing right now. But honestly, it wouldn\u2019t matter if I did, anyway. They\u2019re right. Kayla did an amazing job. It\u2019s a hard pill for me to swallow, but it\u2019s the truth. Still, that doesn\u2019t make admitting it or standing here and listening to their gushing any easier to deal with.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0I don\u2019t want to be here right now. I \u0928\u0939\u0940\u0902 \u0915\u0930 \u0938\u0915\u0924\u093e<\/em>.<\/span><\/p>\n

I move away from the cluster of people gathering around Kayla and joining in on the gushing praise. I absently glance at my watch, and my heart does a double flip.<\/span><\/p>\n

Shit!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m supposed to meet Nicole outside and I\u2019m already running fifteen minutes late thanks to a few unforeseen delays that happened during the show. I grab all my stuff and quickly head toward the stairwell leading to the back entrance, but my plan is thwarted almost immediately.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0Swarms of performers are quickly gathering in front of it, completely blocking off the passageway. It\u2019s already so packed with everyone standing around and congratulating each other, with a few people trying to one-up someone else. They\u2019re all busy relishing the highs they\u2019re on\u2014like I \u091a\u093e\u0939\u093f\u090f <\/em>be doing, instead of scurrying to head to some rich guy\u2019s party so that my potential whoring skills can be \u201cassessed\u201d by a scary woman who seems to be utterly obsessed <\/em>with rainbows.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u092d\u0917\u0935\u093e\u0928<\/em>, this is turning out to be such a shitty night.<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s impossible to make my way through the back. My only other option is leaving the building through the main entrance\u2014with everybody else from the audience. I really don\u2019t want to take the front door route as I\u2019m not at all in the mood, or have the time<\/em>, for that matter, to make small talk with anyone, but right now, I don\u2019t have a choice.<\/span><\/p>\n

I dash in the other direction, making my way through one of the backstage exits and into the auditorium once more. The hall is rowdy as streams of people shuffle out while some continue to remain seated or chat in little groups in the corner. The aisles are so much more packed than it is backstage, but at least people are moving here.<\/span><\/p>\n

I do my best to wiggle through, smiling and saying \u2018thank you\u2019 when a few people congratulate me and tell me I did a \u201cgreat job\u201d. I only do it for the sake of being polite and as a gesture of common courtesy. I really don\u2019t feel like I deserve to be congratulated on anything right now. I did my best, but I know I wasn\u2019t at <\/em>my best.\u00a0 And that makes \u0938\u092c <\/em>the difference.<\/span><\/p>\n

As I keep walking, I think I hear someone call my name, but I\u2019m not sure so I ignore it. I continue shuffling among the masses of people with even more urgency, eager to get out of the annoying cluster as quickly as possible. But then, I hear my name again, and it\u2019s loud and clear this time.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRamona!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m a bit startled by the sound of the deep voice, and I turn to see none other than Jamie Wrighton walking up to me from a few feet away.<\/span><\/p>\n

My eyes widen at the sight of him. He\u2019s dressed formally, in a well-fitting dark grey suit and navy blue tie. He actually looks pretty fancy. I\u2019m honestly surprised to see him here. I hadn\u2019t really pegged someone like him to attend these kind of events.<\/span><\/p>\n

He sidesteps a few people as he makes his way over to me with ease, towering over everyone around him. It\u2019s almost as if people automatically just part and make way for him wherever he goes, and I\u2019m not sure if it\u2019s because of his height or because he\u2019s the school\u2019s star quarterback. Maybe both. Either way, right now I don\u2019t have time to try to decipher it, and I certainly don\u2019t have the time to make small talk with him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRamona, hey,\u201d he smiles, finally stopping just a few inches in front of me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJamie\u2026hey,\u201d I say. It\u2019s probably the lamest attempt at a greeting, but I\u2019m not exactly sure what else to say. He\u2019s the last person I expected to be talking to tonight.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou were great out there,\u201d he says, giving me another encouraging smile as he shoves his hands into his pockets.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d I say, feeling somewhat unsure. I have no idea where this conversation is going, but I don\u2019t have time to stick around to find out.<\/span><\/p>\n

I shift my weight onto my other foot by force of habit; something I do when I\u2019m in an uncomfortable situation that I\u2019m trying to get out of, or if I\u2019m being bogged down somewhere when I really need to be somewhere else.<\/span><\/p>\n

He starts to speak again. \u201cHey, listen. I was wondering\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad you liked the show but I really need to get going. Good seeing you again,\u201d I quickly say, stopping his words short.<\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t mean to cut him off. I honestly do it unintentionally. I really hate that I sound rude right now and I wish I could apologize, but I\u2019m certainly not about to give him\u2014or anyone else\u2014any more opportunities to keep me here any longer.<\/span><\/p>\n

I turn before he can say anything else and practically run through the remainder of the crowd as fast as I can.<\/span><\/p>\n

I hear him call out from behind me one last time before I head through the exit. \u201cYeah\u2026good seeing you again, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

As soon as I\u2019m out of the building, I immediately spot Nicole\u2019s car ahead.<\/span><\/p>\n

Okay, it\u2019s not like I really tried to spot it. It\u2019s literally right there, parked right in front of the main entrance, in a very unauthorized parking space.<\/span><\/p>\n

I can only shake my head in disbelief at the proverbial balls she has to do something like this, and on a day like this one, no less. This chick is really something else.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I quickly close the distance, not bothering to mention how blatantly she\u2019s breaking the law, because with Nicole, that would just be a waste of time. But at least she\u2019s here, just like she promised she would be.<\/span><\/p>\n

She puts her window down as she sees me approaching. I can\u2019t read her expression behind the large Guess aviators sitting proudly on her face. I guess she likes to stay fashionable year round, even in shit weather.<\/span><\/p>\n

She gestures with a slight cock of her head to the side. \u201cGet in.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/span><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The curtains rise slowly, revealing our ensemble of violinists and vocalists to an incredibly large, seated audience. The enormous stage lights are bright and feel hot against my face and neck, perfectly illuminating our musical assembly from high above our heads. The auditorium is packed, just as I expected it to be\u2014as we all expected it to be. The annual Weitzman performance is one of the events that always gets sold out quickly. Last year, I was seated in the audience, far behind on the other side of the renowned… \u0905\u0927\u093f\u0915 \u092a\u0922\u093c\u0947\u0902<\/a><\/span><\/p>","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2990,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"_themeisle_gutenberg_block_has_review":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[96],"tags":[],"series":[99],"class_list":["post-3114","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-contemporary-2","series-doctor-patient-confidentiality"],"featured_image_src":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/DPC-Wattpad-Header-1024x341.jpg","blog_images":{"medium":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/DPC-Wattpad-Header-300x100.jpg","large":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/DPC-Wattpad-Header-1024x341.jpg"},"ams_acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3114","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3114"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3114\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2990"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3114"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3114"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3114"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/hi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/series?post=3114"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}