Page 20 of Love Sick

Mine tomorrow begins with a scheduled one—nice and controlled. Perfect for me.

Alesha is starting on L&D at our other hospital, so we quiz each other over FaceTime on surgical steps and fetal heart tones.

I take a breath. “We’re going to be fine.”

“Yeah. For sure, girl. We got this.” Alesha’s screen goes blurry as she checks a text, then she laughs.

“What?”

“The dorky boy sent me a gif of one of thoseStar Warsdudes wishing me luck tomorrow.”

My face contorts into a scowl despite my efforts to remain neutral. “Julian?”

Alesha’s face pops into view. “He’s actually really nice, Gracey-poo.”

I tap into my messaging app. No new messages. He’s a petty man, our Julian.

At 7:00 a.m., I slather on the surgical antiseptic and head into the OR, gowning after my attending and senior resident, Aislin Hegar. One step toward the OR table and my attending, Dr. Levine, directs me to the first assistant spot.

I pause. “Oh, I thought—”

Gowned and gloved and masked, blue eyes barely visible behind a plastic shield, Dr. Levine raises an eyebrow. “You thought what?”

“Nothing, sir.” I dutifully move to the opposite side of the table and stew in jealousy over each cut made by my senior.

Dr. Levine points out all the steps as Aislin makes them. It takes everything in me not to snap, “I know!”

Afterward, I put in orders and dictate the operative note of the surgery I didn’t perform while fighting a nagging twitch of anxiety. Is this about the rumor? Is he punishing me?

Aislin, bubbly and bright, grins. “You’ll be ready for the next one now.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

But I don’t get to do the next one, either. Or the one after that.

Several days pass before I reach the conclusion that my attendings don’t trust me. They hold my hand through every procedure, quick to take over if I make the slightest wrong move.

On Friday of my first week, I sit through a lecture from Dr. Chen about how Pitocin—the drug we use to induce labor, prevent postpartum hemorrhages and generally survive on L&D—is the most dangerous drug we use. He orders Aislin to teach me all the Pit protocols.

“Do they always hover this much?” I ask her when he leaves.

She nods. “It’s only because it’s your first week, and they can tell you’re nervous. Don’t worry about it. They’ll ease up. Now, come here so I can show you the Pit doses.”

During a rare slow moment, I pull out my phone, opening the group message with my fellow interns, dubbed Pit It or Quit It.

Me:I need my people. Anyone free tonight for a rant session?

Alesha:Yesssss Group Therapy!

Raven:Oh that sounds fun. I’m in.

Kai:Hellz ya. Mico? Mambo Taxis?

Me:!!!!

Several minutes pass before my phone buzzes again.

Alesha:Julian??? wru

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