You Make It Easy

Take Her Down.

Maya~

"So the second week of January, right?" Sydney asks me.

"Yeah."

"Okay, yeah, you're already in for that week for paid time off unless you want to use your vacation days."

"Can I do half and half?"

"Sure."

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure it went through."

"Yeah, you're set."

She leaves the nurses station just as Bridget came back, "Hey, I'd check with Sydney about our week in Nashville. I just checked with her about mine. That way she can't say we didn't put it in our check with her."

"Smart thinking. I'll ask later. She seemed busy."

I lean back in my chair. "What do you have right now?"

"A guy with most likely pneumonia. I'm waiting on x-rays. A kid with a broken wrist and a girl with severe dehydration. She was actually at a Brewers game."

"You just had to throw in that detail, didn't you?"

"It's only important because of who you know. How is he?"

"Are you actually asking me that question? Do you actually want to know that? It might scar you."

"Oh my god, not like that. No, ew. Gross."

"You didn't specify."

"I thought you would understand."

"Clearly I didn't."

"How is he, like personally, I guess?"

"I wouldn't know. Haven't seen him in a week. His regular season is winding down."

"Are you going to go to any postseason games? Because I would go with you."

"We can."

Her pager goes off, "We're finishing this conversation once I get back."

"Wouldn't expect us to leave it where it was."

I stop compressions, staring at the monitor to hopefully see some activity. I look to Bridget and shake my head, "Someone call it."

I throw my gloves in the trash on my way out. "Time of death, 14:32," Bridget says.

That's my fourth loss of the day. I start the paperwork once I get to the nurse's station. I hate days like these. Paperwork isn't fun but losing people sucks even more. We won't know what killed them until an autopsy is done.

It's days like these that make me question my skills. Am I good enough? Yes, probably. But why do days like this happen? I hate questioning my skills, and my colleagues' skills. I get in my head about all of that.

"Can't save them all," Bridget says.

"That's my fourth one."

"This week?"

"Today."

"Well, okay then."

I sign off on the paperwork. I'll need a drink after I get home. "I have other patients to check on. Hopefully, no one else dies."

"Maybe you should just go home."

"Yeah, like Sydney would let me."

"You have a point. She wouldn't."

Christian walks into the kitchen from the garage as I hold a spatula in defense. He sets his keys on my counter, "What was a spatula going to do?"

"I don't know. Would you have rather me used a knife?"