Will You Love Me Then?

Chapter 9 - Summer

Jenny didn't show up to work yesterday or today. I tried texting her to check on her and she read my messages but never responded. Losing a patient is hard and this job isn't easy, so maybe she decided that it isn't for her. It's better for her to find that out now before she spends thousands of dollars on furthering her education. But still, I pitied her.

Pushing the thoughts of Jenny out of my head, I focused back on my current patient; a little four-year old boy who was enthusiastically crinkling the paper on the examination table. His mother sat off to the side, looking completely exhausted but watching her son with fondness, nonetheless.

"Hey kiddo!" I said cheerfully, and he paused his crinkling to look at me, his little face brightening at the sight of me, "How are you feeling today bud?"

He looked down at his hands, completely focused as he intently tried to make his fingers form the right motion to give me a thumbs up. He finally managed to get his little thumbs up, prompting a big smile to form on his face. Both his mother and I clapped for him and his smile grew even bigger. I am so glad that even after all of the challenges he has been through, he isn't afraid of me. I think it helps that I don't wear a white coat like the doctors who poke and prod him do.

I spun around in my wheeled stool and scooted closer to him, "Ready for me to listen to that heart of yours?"

He nodded excitedly and I placed the stethoscope on his small bare chest. The familiar lub-dub of his heartbeat filled my ears as my eyes traced the healing scar that now runs down his front. Still, I smiled, thankful that it seemed like his heart-surgery was a success. As per our usual tradition during our appointments, I flipped the stethoscope around and placed it over my own heart. While the little boy "listened" to my heart, I talked to his mother.

With a smile, I told her, "His heart sounds all good, momma. Unless there are additional concerns or new symptoms that arise later, I think you will be able to stop coming to see me."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Lane. You have been..." her voice caught in her throat and tears glistened in her eyes, "You have been amazing throughout this whole journey. You will never know how much I appreciate you."

I hung my stethoscope back around my neck and patted the boy's head, "It's my pleasure. Message me through the patient portal if you have any questions or concerns. The nurse will be back in shortly to check you out."

She nodded her head, and I stepped out of the room, feeling grateful for a positive appointment to end my day today. After the week I have had, I needed some positivity. My phone buzzed in my pocket as I sat back down at my desk, and I was surprised to see a missed call and a text from my sister, asking for me to call her when I could. I quickly responded and told her I would call her as soon as I got off work.

As I finished the remaining documentation and paperwork for the day, the office slowly quieted as my colleagues finished working for the day. I think it might have been quieter since Jenny wasn't here. I realized that it was the first Friday that Jenny was not here to ask me to go out to Crane's for drinks. I also realized that in the eight months I have worked here, not a single other person has ever offered to eat lunch with me, much less be willing to see me outside of work. Am I that unpleasant to be around?

I would like to think that I am easy to get along with, but I guess I could be wrong. I know I am the youngest on the team, but I like to think I am pretty good at my job and that my coworkers respect me. I am always one of the first to volunteer to help with something and I'm always on time.

I am quiet but I collaborate with my colleagues on patient cases relatively often and I think we get along pretty well with each other. But maybe they are just putting up with me. Maybe they just tolerate me enough to do their jobs because they don't actually like me. If they don't like me, do my patients even like me? They say they do but maybe they just say that to everyone. Maybe this isn't the right job for me. Maybe I don't deserve to be here. Maybe I should quit. Maybe I...