Ice and Fire

Chapter 1 ~ Samantha

Ice Queen.

Heartless Bitch.

Siberian Witch.

Jackie Frost.

Are just some of the more loving names my colleagues have given me throughout the years. Does it bother me? Fuck no! I care nothing of what people may think of me. I may be tough and even seem cold, but I get the job done and that is all that matters to me.

You respect me and I'll respect you, but don't ask me about my day or how am I doing. For at the end of it all it is just small talk. Useless. Pointless. I only talk when it is truly necessary and I like things done a certain way...the right way...my way. Am I always right? No, but you will never hear me gloat when I am right, so don't do it to me. It makes you seem petty. I'm honest, but if people think I'm rude then that's their problem not mine.

Have I always been like this? Yes!

And don't go thinking that my attitude had something to do with my childhood. It doesn't. I wasn't abused. I didn't rebel towards my parents and I didn't do drugs. My parents loved each other until they no longer did and divorced. And then got back together, apparently they couldn't live away from one other. Did it affect me? As it would any other 7-year-old, but I wasn't heartbroken. That is life and I don't go around spilling my private life with everyone, especially with my co-workers. My private life is just that...Private. What I don't get is this thing that people have the need to want to share theirs with the world, even with me? I might use social media on a professional level, but you will not see me splatter my whole life for the world to see.

I'm a cardio-thoracic surgeon not a social worker or a shrink. So go bother someone else with your life problems. And when I ask you how are things, I am only being polite. Take for example one of the nurses in the children's ward, I was stupid of me to ask about her night and right at this moment is blabbing to me about it. Going into details of a guy she met, of what they ate, drank and even talked about. The whole conversation without breathing once. Do I give a rat's ass? No, I don't. She's even showing me her text conversations and pictures they had shared since their meeting. I have too many things to do and my time is precious to be wasting it on people that waste theirs talking instead of doing their job.

"Hum, excuse me...Jeannette, is it?" She bobs her head eagerly expecting me to comment, but I don't. "I am sorry but I am not interested in your private life. I have work to do. Good day to you." Grabbing my computer tablet, I turn and walk away.

She whispers loudly enough for me to hear, "Heartless Bitch."

It makes me smile how people are so fucking predictable. You would think that with my sunny disposition I would be more apt to work with the dead than with children. Now why would I be someone you would expect? Where would the fun be in all that?

Today my day is going to be nightmare, I can feel it. It is only 10 a.m. and I have for the past three hours made my rounds, consulted and scheduled three operations for the rest of the week. Now I'm on my way to announce a young couple that their 5-year-old son is in need of a heart transplant. This is one of the parts of my job that I hate.

I walk into the hospital room and the little boy upon seeing me stretches out his arms to me. My heart breaks to see such tragedy. Life sometimes isn't fair. I put my arms around him and give him a small peck upon his hair. "Hello sweetie. Now how are you feeling today?" He smiles up at me and hands me his blanky, a nasty looking thing that seems to hold on to dear life by one single thread. See I am not that much of a heartless Bitch. I just don't like stupid people with stupid, useless, meaningless questions and conversations.