2. Work: The Everyday
The clock struck eleven fifteen. I gathered up my chemistry books in my arms and threw my pen into the pocket of my scrubs. My friends waved goodbye to me as I shuffled away from the lab tables and out into the hallway. I moved quickly, heading out to the student parking lot. My cooked-spinach-green blazer sat in its spot. I yanked my keys from my pocket and threw them into the ignition. The engine sputtered once, and I hoped a little bit, because my beloved little Tina ran on the fuel of hope, sarcasm and country music, and the engine purred (or grumbled) to life.
While I drove, listening to a CD of Jason Aldean and dubstep, I picked up my name badge from my cup holder and clipped it to the collar of my scrubs. I also put my watch on my left wrist. At a red light, I pulled my hair back.
A few minutes later, I pulled into the employee lot of our local hospital, where I spent my afternoon. From noon until five, I worked at the hospital, shadowing in different departments, for class. I turned in a giant paper at the end of every month about the diagnoses I saw and the procedures I did, and that was my grade. Honestly, it was the best class I’ve ever taken.
I swiped my card, which allowed me inside.
The clerk at the desk waved to me. “How’re you today, Annie?”
I grinned back. “Good, you?” I began walking backwards to the elevator as she replied. I gave a polite nod in return before going up to my floor.
My floors varied, based on where I was needed. I was typically in the emergency room, just because I had my EMT license, so I knew most of the procedures, and I could do a lot more. However, I still had to go up to the third floor and check in with my manager, who worked in the Medical Laboratory. After I stepped off the elevator, I waved at my manager, and stepped right back on again, to go back to the first floor, where the ER was.
My card swiped me in and I sanitized my hands before heading straight to work.
~
Around two, I asked an aide to cover for me so I could go to the cafeteria to take my break.
My best friend, Jane, was sitting at the little lonely table we always sat at. I walked past her to buy my food (a salad, a bag of Cheetos and Pepsi, in case you were curious. It’s impossible to find vegetarian friendly things in this cafeteria). Then, I went and joined her.
She took one of my Cheetos. Jane, like me, also spent her afternoon in the hospital, except she was usually in oncology. She had straight, shoulder length blonde hair and hazel eyes that she sometimes covered with glasses. Today she had contacts. She was petite, like me. She was also an avid member of the community and a total genius, and sort of a hipster. Granted, I could fall under the same label.
“Anything fun happen today?” I asked her.
“Not really. The head of pediatric oncology from the university is here, so I’ve been talking to him about my thesis. You?”
I shrugged. “Same old. Broken bones, heart attacks.”
“Do you work this weekend?”
“Yeah. Just Saturday though.”
We continued with our small talk and made plans to hang out Saturday night, after I got off my 12-hour shift on the ambulance. As soon as I finished my food, I had to head back to the Emergency room though. I waved goodbye to Jane, stood up, and hip-bumped my chair back into place. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflective glass windows as I moved. My brown scrubs hung loosely off me—I really should get small scrubs, I thought. I was barely five-foot-two, and a size small was a little bit baggy for me. I also noted that I should re-dye my hair again, because it was fading from a soft black to brownish. Considering my skin was pretty much porcelain fair, I decided I would go with a brown for the next kind of dye.
