Doctors Without Morals

"Thank you for your honesty. To be truthful, although this happens a good bit, the figures are no higher than for health care professionals in their regular life. It's just more concentrated and intense in these situations. I've probably helped dozens who have wrestled with this problem, and my advice is always the same. Do what your conscience dictates. Ninety-five percent take it to their graves and it rarely works out for the ones who confess."

He looked thoughtful for a few seconds before resuming. "This, however, is not a normal situation. I can say with reasonable certainty from talking to your husband that he knows you strayed both times you were abroad and he's very angry. Angry people are not prone to being reasonable. In the few instances anything remotely like this has occurred, we have been able to contain it. That won't be the case here. We can put considerable pressure on CNN, but on his personal site, we are without resources. He can be explicit as he wants and there isn't much we can do about it. It could hurt us tremendously. How many spouses will be as supporting as before the story comes out? We need these people to exist. If you have any influence at all over your husband, now is the time to exert it."

My answer didn't make him very happy. "Sir, right now I have no idea where my husband is or what he's up to. He's refused all contact with me. Who knows what he's liable to do?"

We found out the next day. It was splattered all over the New York newspapers and picked up globally. Four dozen spouses presented a class action lawsuit against the charity for the demise of their marriages and long-term relationships over the last six years. They were asking millions in compensation. The suit was international, presented in French, English, Italian, and Algerian courts, besides the U.S. and Canada.

The charity found him determined and very, very angry, and in no mood to cooperate. They tried to reason with him until he told them he'd recorded every meeting or phone call he'd done since he'd started investigating. He knew he was covered by the laws of our state and two more, and even if he didn't use them in court, he could on his channel. Wives and husbands of those who recently served were demanding the truth from their spouses and most didn't believe what they heard.

The less reputable papers got hold of it and had a field day. Sex and scandal sells for these rags, and it looked like there was no lack of material. The social media had dubbed us #Doctors Without Morals and the media picked it up and it became the official mantra.

They featured Brian as the one who broke the story and it led directly to me. I was bombarded by every media outlet in the world for an interview and steadfastly refused until it occurred to me since Brian wouldn't speak to me, it might be a way to get a message to him, but I never got the chance.

*****

He eventually came home, totally ignoring me and spending a lot of time with our son. When I told him I needed a way to get hold of him for emergencies, he showed me a burner phone and gave me the number. "If you ever call for anything other than my son, I'll throw it away."

The first time he came by Mom's to pick up Tommy, I was waiting on the steps. "Brian, we have to talk. You need to let me explain things and help you understand. What I did over there is completely different from us. It never intruded on our lives and meant nothing once I was home."

He just looked at me for a second. "Let me ask you something. While you were over there merrily fucking away, did it ever occur to you what your actions would do to the marriage? Would you be forgiving if you came home and found I'd had a series of affairs while you were gone and I told you they didn't mean anything because you weren't here?"

"It's not the same!"

"Bullshit. This conversation is over. Bring Tommy out so I can leave; something around here is making me sick to my stomach." After that, he stopped talking to me. If I tried to initiate dialog, he just stared at me until our son came out. Tommy was back living full time with his dad now. The courts had decided to leave him there since it was what he was used to and most comfortable with. The Judge also ruled he could live in our house until the matter was settled because he was the primary care giver.

I got a small apartment near the hospital. It was just a basic box, far different from the house with the big yard we'd bought five years before. Brian didn't have to work nearly as many hours as I did, so he became a semi-househusband. He'd work when Tommy took naps, and later, it was while he was at school. He relandscaped the backyard, putting a fence around it when he was done, along with a sandbox, a swing set, and a very large above ground pool that they spent hours in during the summer. I think I may have gotten into it twice in five years.

I came home one day to see three late-teen girls in bikinis frolicking in our pool. I was really pissed, but Brian grinned at me. "I still have to work, you know. I could probably work at night while you took care of him, but do you really want to come home to the demands of a six-year-old after a long day? This way is better. Kimberly, that's the one in the red bikini, is highly qualified as a sitter, so I hired her. The other two are just friends. Part of the employment agreement was use of the pool a couple of days a week. She can have two friends at a time with her and no more, and no boys. Tommy loves her, she's really good with him and I get to work. She's never in the pool while she's working, unless it's with Tommy. She's teaching him to swim, isn't that great?"

I saw the validity of his point, but it still rankled. "You can work with half-naked, no, mostly naked little sprites right in front of you?"

" Sprites? What have you been reading lately? My office is on the other corner of the house. I could see them, I suppose, if I got up from my desk and strained my neck at the window. Or I could come out here like I am now, to tell them it's getting late and they need to be home."

Tommy woke up from his nap and came charging into my arms, then he dragged me over to the girls so I could meet Miss Kimmy. As I talked to them, I relaxed, and when Kim told me she was going into a nursing program in the fall, we found common ground. I got her a volunteer spot at the hospital and mentored her as much as I could, and wrote her a glowing recommendation letter for college.

Kim was in her second year and doing well. Her replacement was her younger sister Alexis, "Miss Lexy", that Tommy loved almost as much as he did Kim. I had the feeling they did a lot of mothering while I was gone. And Miss Lexy could really, really fill out a bikini.

The charity wanted to settle the class action as long as there was an enforceable nondisclosure clause in the agreement. They related the encounter to me. Brian laughed, which gave their lawyers heartburn. "Everyone else has agreed! Why can't you let it go and move on?" one of the attorneys had asked.

"I've moved on," Brian had said. "What I haven't done is forgiven her or your organization. I know how hard you recruited her, telling her how good it would look on her record, and may lead to consultancy opportunities later on. I'm still digging, getting an understanding on how you operate. In every other instance, the wronged have been bought off, sometimes with cash, sometimes with business relationships. I don't need the money and there's no way I'd get into bed with you assholes. Now I'm right in the middle of my second piece about your organization and I'm on a self-imposed deadline, so FUCK OFF!"

They got up to leave, and just before they went out the door the youngest lawyer, a woman three years out of law school, asked him a question. "Isn't your anger a little misdirected? After all, it was your wife that caused this. She cheated on you. I get it and I'm sorry. Shouldn't you be making her life a living hell instead of ours?"

He smiled at her, which made her nervous. Then he showed her a picture of his son. "This is my son. He's the reason I haven't gone scorched earth on my wife. Without him, she would have been an eviscerated corpse that rats started feasting on fifteen minutes after she got off that last plane. Maybe my anger is misdirected but over the years your organization must have realized things like this were happening. Hell, you even have written protocols on how to handle an angry spouse. You judged the impact it would have on your organization and decided a little collateral damage was acceptable.

"Apparently it was, until I came along. I must be your organization's worst nightmare. I have an independent livelihood so you can't pressure me over my job, I make good money so you can't starve me out, and I have enough rage in me to ignore veiled threats. You can go now."

She was a little pale when she walked away; the raw anger coming off the man in waves was enough to disconcert her.

*****

I wasn't surprised when I got the divorce papers. Every course I took ended in frustration. I made it a point to come by his house so many times he had a restraining order taken out. If I came within a hundred feet of him or the house, I could be arrested.

My employers were not pleased with the circus my life had become. I hadn't done anything improper at home, and so far, all that was put forth was allegations, but the administrator called me into his office anyway.

"I'm speaking to you on behalf of the board. Your personal life is becoming a distraction and we cannot allow it to disrupt normal routines. You're a brilliant surgeon and we have a lot of respect for you. This isn't anything official, it's just a friendly request for you to see if you can get your husband to tone it down a little. Please, Sarah."

I promised I'd do my very best, knowing I couldn't even speak to him at the momen. He did tell me I could send emails if it was absolutely necessary, so that night I sat in front of my laptop, writing for five hours before I thought I had it right. I hit send and went to bed, hoping for a reply.

*****

I cringed when I read the response the next morning. "I could care less about your professional reputation, your relationship with the hospital, or any collateral damage I cause, unless it involves our son. If you catch me in a lie, send me a message and I'll retract it and issue a full apology. Four nurses, five technicians, and two more doctors from your hospital have been on missions for the organization. Wonder what I'd find if I back trailed them? Might want to warn them."

Well, that didn't work. I showed the Administrator the email. He just sighed. He closed the door and exploded. "Shit! Fuck! Damn it Sarah! This is really bad. You know I'm going to have to bring all these people in and warn them. They may not take it very well and you have to work with them, so it may get a little tense. The hospital can't compromise the quality of the care our patients get under any circumstances, so I want you to finish the day and then clear your schedule. Take a week off to see if you can resolve this somehow. Good luck, Sarah."

Well, that was pretty clear. Fix this fuck up or start looking for a new hospital.

The boss did the interviews and I got some pretty interesting phone calls. Three technicians, two nurses, and a doctor had hooked up while on mission. Two had hooked up with each other and brought it home with them. All were married or in serious relationships. Now six people were sweating a decision. Should they confess now and hope for the best, or ride it down and deny everything? I hoped they all stayed silent, because if one broke and confessed it could domino across to all of them.

That was all news I found out later. At the moment, I was on a mission. I got my lawyer to ask his for a conference, and if they agreed, I'd sign the divorce papers. I had finally realized my marriage was broken and nothing could fix it if only one was willing to try. I was surprised they agreed.

Three days before we were to meet, Brian came out with a scathing essay on doctors and "the God complex." As usual, he had done extensive research, talked to a lot of experts, so he was on point and accurate. One noted psychologist said it existed to some degree in almost all successful people, regardless of their field, if they had risen far enough, but it was more pronounced in the medical profession because it was often a matter of life or death. He talked about the sense of entitlement it sometimes generated and gave me pause.

I recognized a lot of my behavior in the essay. Had I really become that arrogant? Did I think my calling and position made me assume normal rules didn't apply to me? Had I compartmentalized my life to the point of justifying my behavior? The short answer was yes, yes, and yes.

I was frustrated while I was on those missions, but I could have kept my legs closed if I had chosen to. Or, I could have just stayed home. Instead, I rationalized that what I was doing was just stress relief that would in no way impact my marriage, that I deserved this if it kept me sane and what happened in the field stayed in the field. I gave it a lot of thought, and realized I missed the random sex, the thrill of a new partner, and would probably have cheated again here at home, if I felt safe and had the opportunity. It was a sobering assessment.

*****

The meeting went surprisingly well. There were a few little issues that needed to be resolved, but were dealt with quickly. Brian would have primary care of our son, something that had already been in place since he was born, but I would have liberal visitation rights. Our incomes were pretty close, so there would be no alimony on either side, and instead of child support, I would provide a college fund, putting regular deposits in an account Brian would set up. All in all, it was very fair.

Brian wanted the house, but instead of selling him my half I signed it over, telling him to put what he would have paid me into the college fund. He thought that very kind of me.

I felt a twinge of regret when I looked at him. We had been good together. Sure, we had our squabbles and outright fights, but we never held grudges and resolved our issues, and we never, ever, fought in front of our child. Right up until I decided to go on those missions. My therapist (yes, I had a therapist who was trying to make sure I never repeated my mistakes if I found another partner, and it seemed like a good idea) got me to admit that was the beginnings of when I stopped being part of a couple and became a kingdom of one.

Brian was not completely blameless; he could be distant and moody, especially if he was working on something that upset him, but he did his best to minimize it. Up until I went on that first mission, he was very supportive of my career, but it seemed after I got home, he could have cared less. I had a scheduling conflict? Not his problem. I think that's the time period when he sensed things were not going to end well and he was already going into self-protection mode.

After the I's were dotted and the T's were crossed, the lawyers left, and we sat in the conference room and talked, really talked, like we used to before my first mission. It had occurred to me that we hadn't had a conversation like this since the first time I left.

"This will be the last time I apologize to you, Brian. If I knew then what I know now I would have never boarded that plane. But at the time, I had become so self-absorbed, so entitled that I realize now I was starting to make decisions with little or no regard for you and our son. Sadly, now any decision I make will be without either of you."

"Not necessarily. We still have a son together and he'll bind us together for at least the next fifteen years, all the way through college. Then we'll have a wedding to plan, and fights over who gets the grandbabies when, so we'll pretty much be a constant in each other's lives."

That made me smile through the tears, but it was too much to handle, so I gave what would probably be my last kiss to him, and left.

*****

I don't know if the divorce or our talk calmed him, but he backed off on the organization. I know money changed hands from the class action, and Tommy's college education fund swelled significantly.

The pressure got to be too much and I changed hospitals, going across town to our biggest rival. Management made the right noises, but I know they were relieved to see me go. All the people on past missions had marriage issues, but thankfully, there was only one divorce, even if a few of their remaining relationships are on fragile ground.

I didn't date for almost a year. Even when I did start going out, I was very cautious and didn't have a serious relationship for another year. It cratered when I found out he didn't want kids and couldn't stand to be around them. Another eighteen months went by and I found love. He was also a doctor, a pediatrician, and he loved kids.

We took it slowly; both of us were divorced and they were still fresh enough to make us proceed cautiously. It was a good thing in a way, because we really got to know each other before we got serious.

Brian had remained single, as well, although he was seeing a producer from his work with CNN and it had the earmarks of becoming serious. Tommy liked her and she had two adorable little girls who followed him around like puppies when they were around each other.

The network was pressuring him to commit to them totally. He wasn't keen on the idea, and I knew if they didn't back off, he'd leave the network when his contract was up in four months. MSNBC and Fox were both sending out overtures, so he wouldn't be off the air long.

I was passing through the neighborhood one afternoon and decided to pop in and see if Tommy wanted to go to the ice cream parlor with me. It was an independent little shop and they made all their own ice cream. You couldn't get fifty flavors, they had about a dozen at a time and rotated according to the season, using local fruit when they could get it. It was peach season, and that was my favorite. They sold it in quarts, and when I knew I was going to be there I'd bring a small ice chest and buy three or four for home.

I almost didn't stop when I saw the car in the driveway, but I was already signaling and Tommy saw me. He bounded off the front porch grinning, with his two shadows right behind. Brian and Alicia were sitting in the swing and they waved.

I bent down and hugged him. Then the tiny little four-year-old held her arms open. I could have backed away, but I grinned, grabbing her and her six-year-old sister at the same time and wrapping them in a hug. When I got done the little one stayed in my arms so I carried her with me.

Brian had a little grin on his face and the mother didn't know what to say. "Hi! I'm Sarah. Let's make a deal. I'll trade you a ten-year-old boy, slightly used, for these cuties. I might even be persuaded to throw in a pony."

The woman grinned back. "A pony you say? Let me think about it. Martha, but everybody calls me Martie."

"Sarah. I can't really tell you what they call me in mixed company but it rhymes with witch."

"Sarah will have to do then."

I turned and hugged Tommy. "Gotta go, Honey. I was just passing by and thought about going for ice cream but I can see you're busy. We'll do it another time."

I forgot I had the four-year-old in my arms and she started pulling on my hair. "Want ice cream!"

"You'll have to talk to Mommy for that."

I tried to put her down, but she wasn't going for it. "Want Ice Cream!"

"It seems I'm stuck, Martie. Wanna go for an ice cream? It's right down the street and they have the best homemade you've ever tasted. Right now, it's peach season and that's my favorite. My treat?"