Page 30 of Anxious Hearts

It wasn’t going well.

Kelly was at the Society’s headquarters in a boardroom with a table large enough for the four committee members plus Stephen, Michael, Juliana and Kelly to sit facing each other.

Kelly felt like she was in some sort of cliched legal drama.

They were all talking about her as though she wasn’t there.

Dressed uncomfortably in her navy skirt and white blouse, her hair pulled back sensibly and more makeup than usual – at Toula’s and Juliana’s insistence – she couldn’t quite decide whether she was the victim or the accused.

Kelly, herself, had said very little. She had no representation other than Juliana and although Michael was there to support her, his definition of support was to refrain from condemning her and nothing more.

Stephen, the Society’s Director of Corporate Affairs, was being all calm and clinical.

Easy for him; his life wasn’t being torn to shreds before his very eyes.

This was all his fault. If he hadn’t arranged that bloody article and Kelly hadn’t ended up on that bloody telethon, none of this would be happening.

But she was still the one who had lashed out at that jerk in the supermarket.

And the committee had been hammering on for an hour about how she had to take accountability.

Own her actions, they said. Show remorse.

Demonstrate a desire for self-improvement.

Eli’s reference had been so full of effusive praise that it had made her blush to read it, but the committee had barely given it a second glance.

As she suspected, his position as a Registrar was one level above bottom-dwelling shit-kicker in their eyes and his opinion meant about as much as that of the night-shift security guard, who they would never, ever meet.

The committee chairman, who was also the Chairman of the Board, began outlining the possible sanctions under the Society’s code of conduct, ranging from a warning to suspension or cancellation of her membership.

That would be catastrophic. That would mean Kelly could not sit the clinical exam, which was scheduled for the first day of June, less than two months away.

The fear and rage were building so powerfully inside her that Kelly knew she was on the brink of an outburst in which she would question why she was being so severely scrutinised for something that had nothing to do with her job.

Why she was wasting her time here when she could be helping sick kids – the very reason the Society existed.

Juliana, who was sitting next to her, must have sensed the imminent explosion. She placed a hand on Kelly’s knee and shook her head slightly.

Kelly took a deep breath. It didn’t help.

She was frustrated with Juliana, who was adding almost nothing to the conversation.

It was so unlike the communications adviser to be silent and submissive, particularly before a group of middle-aged men – and the committee members were all men, of course.

Maybe she feared for her own job if she ruffled too many feathers. Maybe this was about self-preservation.

That made Kelly even angrier. Juliana was supposed to be her ally. Supposed to be by her side. Working with her. Defending her. Making sure this whole fucking mess went away. Instead, she was sitting there like a meek and servile nineteenth-century wife. It was infuriating.

The Chair stared at Kelly through slightly milky eyes, and a chill ran down her spine.

‘In all my years as a physician,’ he said. ‘I have never seen such appalling behaviour. Especially not from a woman.’

Juliana again placed her hand on Kelly’s knee. ‘Stay silent,’ she whispered.

‘You simply cannot unleash a foul-mouthed tirade on a member of the public and then assault him for no reason whatsoever. It is disreputable, unbecoming and completely misaligned with the values we have striven for decades to uphold.’

The only values you know are misogyny, oppression and sexism, Kelly thought.

She’d been in training sessions where this very man – and others like him – had made explicit references to the difficulties women have in committing to the job because of their family obligations.

It was pure mid-twentieth-century bullshit, but these guys still believed it.

And, what was worse, they were training up the next generation to believe the same thing.

Nobody challenged them. That would be the ultimate career sabotage.

So the women just worked harder and the men held their heads higher, truly believing they were superior just because they had balls in a wrinkly pouch.

‘I move that we cancel your Society membership, effective imme-di-ately, with a right of re-entry at the annual renewal period.’

‘But the membership renews after the clinical exam,’ she said. Her breath was short and laboured. The pulse in her neck beat wildly in anticipation of the noose.

The Chair looked at her like she was deranged. ‘Oh, you won’t be sitting the clinical exam, my dear. But at least you’ll have an extra twelve months to study.’

Kelly’s head started spinning. She gripped the table hard. Juliana held her hand.

‘If I may, Chair,’ Stephen said. ‘I believe there’s another option.’

The Chair chewed on the arm of his glasses. ‘Go on.’

‘Juliana’s media release on Sunday was a masterful mix of contrition and humility set against the backdrop of an environment so pressure charged that even the strongest would succumb.’

Kelly stared at her unlikely saviour. Stephen spoke like a complete corporate wanker but had suddenly become her life raft in the midst of the worst storm of her life.

‘We’re already seeing significant support for Dr O’Mara across social media. Not outright condoning her actions, as such, except for the feminist extremists. But certainly expressing sympathy for her and the work she does. Many of her patients’ families have posted messages of support.’

Kelly felt the back of her eyes sting. She took a deep breath, determined not to cry in front of these men.

‘She was already hugely popular after the feature article and telethon appearance. She has more Instagram followers than any other junior doctor in the Society’s history.

Whether we like it or not, she’s something of a poster child, so we must tread carefully with our response.

The public is watching and will judge us on our actions. ’

The Chairman put down his glasses, leaned back and folded his arms across his frail chest. Then he looked down his nose at Stephen. ‘This is the Society of Australian Paediatric Medicine,’ he said. ‘We are not judged by the public nor will we make our decisions through the lens of public opinion.’

Stephen dipped his head respectfully. ‘I understand.’

Kelly began to drown, hear head slipping under the waves as the life raft drifted out of reach.

‘But, like it or not, online opinion holds extraordinary power,’ Stephen continued. ‘A person or organisation can be destroyed in hours, eviscerated beyond redemption. I believe that if you are too harsh with Dr O’Mara, you can expect to hand in your resignation within a day.’

This guy is a genius, Kelly thought, coming up for air. The Chair had been masterfully backed into a corner and suddenly the decision was about his own survival, not just Kelly’s career. It was brilliant.

One of the other members of the committee smacked his lips.

‘He’s right,’ he said, directing his comments to the Chair.

‘Look at what happened to Blackburn. The online zealots discovered he was part of a church and concluded he was a rabid homophobe even though he’d never said a public word in his life about the gays.

He’d resigned within the week, clearly pushed over the edge. ’

‘This has nothing to do with gay people,’ the Chair said. Then he looked uncomfortably – and desperately – at Kelly and Juliana holding hands at the end of the table. His eyes were wide with trepidation, but it was clear he couldn’t bring himself to ask the question.

‘She’s not a lesbian.’ Juliana stared at him, deadpan. Her first words in Kelly’s defence for the whole meeting. But, fuck, the way she delivered them. The woman was a goddess.

The Chair cleared his throat and the other three old men shuffled uncomfortably. They were suddenly flustered, confused, vulnerable.

Stephen went for the jugular. ‘I recommend Dr O’Mara’s membership be downgraded to provisional and she be placed on probation until the end of May. Without further incident, her full membership can be reinstated so she can sit her clinical exam on the first of June.’

‘Absolutely not,’ the Chair said. ‘That sets a dangerous precedent, not to mention making us look weak and spineless. She must be suspended. That’s not negotiable.’

‘Suspended until the end of May, then,’ Stephen said. ‘Same process, though. If there are no other issues between now and then, her membership will be reinstated and she’ll be able to sit the exam.’

Kelly watched the two men as though this was a fight to the death – her death. The situation was moving too fast. She couldn’t control it. Couldn’t even slow it down. Her head started to ache and her left leg trembled violently. She tried to still it with her hand but that was shaking now too.

‘Agreed,’ the Chair said. ‘But there is one more condition. She needs to be stood down from her position at the hospital until the suspension is completed.’

Kelly felt the room spin.

Everybody looked at Michael.

Michael looked first at Kelly.

She gripped the table and pleaded with her eyes. Pleaded with him to say no. To not take away her job. Her life. Her very reason for existence. If he agreed, she would not be able to examine patients for more than seven weeks leading up to her exam.

He dropped his gaze.

Kelly was a dead woman.

Michael nodded silently to the Chair.

The betrayal was complete.