Page 9 of Doctor's Surprise Twins

“You poor thing; you’re in shock.” She looks at the hand she’s holding, watching it shake. “Take a deep breath, okay? Like this.” She takes a slow deep breath, and I follow along, only my breaths are short and shallow.

She shows me again and again, and with each breath, I’m able to go deeper until I have control over my body again.

“There. Did that help?”

I nod, but tears still roll down my cheeks. “It’s alright. Everything is fine. Just a little first-day jitters. Happens to everyone,” she says, standing and releasing my hand. She nods down the hall. “Why don’t you go to the restroom and get yourself cleaned up?”

I nod and stand, not even sure what she means by that, but I need a moment to decompress, so I go. I walk down the hallway in a daze.

Everyone around me looks like they know where they’re going. They all look at me with concern as I walk past in a daze. I know where the bathroom is; I passed it earlier. Now, I’m just relying on my subconscious to get me there because my mind is occupied by everything that just happened.

Why did I react like that?

How could I freeze up when there was a child there that needed help?

What if I had been the only one there?

Would I have remembered my schooling and jumped into action, or would I have frozen and let the child die? How in the world does anyone get used to this?

How much training does it take to remember what you’ve learned in an emergency and not break down like I’m doing now?

I push my way into the bathroom and stand in front of a mirror, leaning over the porcelain sink. It’s hard and cold, and I use that to ground myself.

What are the steps to calm yourself down when you’re having an anxiety attack? 5-4-3-2-1 Method. Name five things you can see.

I look around me. My hands, the sink, the tiled walls, the tiled floor, the window.

Four things you can touch. The sink, the faucet, the mirror in front of me, myself.

Three things you can hear. Water dripping. My breathing. Voices in the hallway.

Two things you can smell. Bleach and food from the cafeteria.

One thing you can taste… Let’s skip that step.

I look into the mirror now and see my red, bloodshot eyes. My lashes are wet and matted together, and mascara is running down my cheeks. I guess that’s what Val meant by getting myself cleaned up.

I wet my fingertips and wipe at the mess on my cheeks. It leaves them slightly red, but red is better than black. Once my face is clean, I turn and grab some toilet paper from a stall to blow my nose. Then I take a deep breath and wash my hands.

I feel better, but I’m still left with the question: Did I choose the wrong career path? Did I make a mistake? Have I been wrong all along?

When I thought about being a nurse, I always saw myself talking to patients, handing out medication, and doing routine checks.

I never thought about the emergencies that required me to remember my training. I screwed everything up. I should have worked toward a degree in business management or something.

There’s never a life-or-death emergency in business management.

It sucks that you waste four years of your life before you learn that you suck in an emergency.

What the hell am I going to do now? This is the only thing I ever saw myself doing.

I push the thoughts from my head as I exit the bathroom and return to the nurses’ station. When I stop across from Val, I lean against the desk. She looks up at me, offering a tight smile. “You know what?”

My brows lift.

“Things are slowing down here. Why don’t you go ahead and clock out for the day.”

“Are you sure?” I look around to make sure I’m not needed somewhere.

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