Page 10 of Doctor's Surprise Twins

She nods. “I’m sure. You did good for your first day. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Thanks,” I breathe. “You’re sure?”

“Yep, kick rocks,” she says with a wide smile.

I don’t have it in me to laugh right now. All I can do is nod and start toward the locker room.

I don’t bother changing, I just grab my purse and coat and head for the elevator.

My body feels heavy, and I can’t figure out why. I’m not physically tired. I am mentally exhausted, though. How does everyone here deal with this kind of stress?

I feel like this should be the test on the first day of school to see if you want to work in the medical field. If it had been, I wouldn’t have wasted all this time just to learn that I suck at this job.

By the time I hit the lobby, I’m too tired to go any farther, so grab a seat on a nearby bench. I rest my arms on my bent knees, letting my forearms and hands dangle.

After a minute, I lean back against the wall, and my eyes move up to the ceiling.

What else can I do with a nursing degree? I could find a job at a pediatrician’s office. I’d still be a nurse and I’d still be working with kids. I just wouldn’t have to deal with life-or-death situations. I’d just take temperatures, check blood pressure, and fill out charts. A much more laid-back work environment.

But this is my dream. I’ve always watched medical dramas and pictured myself rushing from ER to ER, making life-saving choices, and having a dramatic, entertaining life that people would tune in for every week.

Shit… maybe I didn’t want to be a nurse at all. Maybe I wanted to be an actor who played a nurse. I roll my eyes.

I don’t know how long to sit there, but I know I can’t go home until I decide if I’m coming back. And I can’t decide if I’m coming back until I figure out if this is going to get better, if training makes all the difference, or if I simply made a wrong decision when choosing my major.

Have I tricked myself into thinking I’m meant to be something I’m not, or is this a case of imposter syndrome?

Am I just overthinking everything? Probably. Does that mean that I’m wrong? Not at all.

When it comes to working in a hospital, you either have what it takes, or you don’t.

My only question is: how do you figure that out?

4

ETHAN

Istep out of the OR, ripping off my gloves and mask before pulling off my surgical cap and gown.

I deposit them in the biohazard waste can and push my way out the swinging doors and toward the shower.

The stress of the surgery did a number on me, and I feel like I’ve been running on pure cortisol since I got back from lunch.

I enter the men’s locker room and unlock my locker. I kick off my shoes and then strip, stuffing my soiled clothing into my duffle bag before grabbing my shower caddy and moving toward the showers.

I step in, close the plastic curtain and twist the knob as the water sprays from the shower head. I hang my head forward and close my eyes, letting the warm spray rush over my head and face. I turn my back to the spray and wipe the water from my eyes.

After showering, I make my way back to my locker and I pull on a clean set of clothes, run my fingers through my hair, and shake my head, slinging water droplets in all directions.

Hooking my bag over my shoulder, I lock my locker and head for the elevator.

It’s been a long day. Most days feel that way after high-stakes emergency surgery.

The boy’s surgery was scheduled for tomorrow, but his heart couldn’t hold out another day.

Regardless, it’s done now, and he should be on the mend. Hopefully, he won’t have to deal with anything like this again for a very long time.

I’ve always been torn about working in pediatrics. I hate seeing all the sick kids, but at least I get to help them. I feel like I do more and care more than anyone could.

---