Cameron
The morning has been brutal, like always. Between back-to-back patient consults, coordinating with attendings, and making sure I don’t pass out from exhaustion, I’ve barely had a second to breathe.
I finish up charting notes on my latest patient when I spot Wes leaning against the nurses’ station, sipping on what I know is the coffee I left there.
“When’s your check-up?” he asks, casually, like he didn’t just commit a crime.
I exhale, rubbing a hand down my face. “In an hour. I gotta finish up with my last patient, then I’ll head over.”
Wes nods, watching me for a second. “Text me when you’re done. Let me know what they say.”
I shake my head, reaching over and stealing my coffee back. “You’re worse than Gabrielle.”
“That’s cause I love you more than she does.”
I just smirk. “Doubt it, I don’t think you want to do some of the things she’s told me she wants to do to me. That’s love,” I tell him, pushing off the counter and heading towards my next patient’s room.
“Gross!” Wes calls out to me. “But I would like to hear about those things in detail later.”
“Not a chance,” I call back.
* * *
These are the appointments I hate the most.
She’s young, too young.
Eleven years old and out of options. She’s been in and out of this hospital for the past few years, fighting harder than most adults ever have to. And now, she’s about to be transferred to hospice care.
I school my expression as I step inside, offering her parents a small, reassuring smile. Her mother is sitting on the edge of the bed, running a gentle hand through her daughter’s hair, while her father stands by the window. I can tell he’s trying to hold himself together.
I clear my throat, stepping closer. “Hey, sweetheart.”
The little girl—Samantha—gives me a small, sleepy smile.
“Hey, Dr. Hayes.”
I pull up a chair, careful with my words. “Today is a big day for you.”
She nods, her little fingers tracing patterns on the blanket. “Mom says I’ll be going home.”
I glance at her mom, who’s already fighting back tears. “You are,” I say gently. “And I want you to know how incredibly brave you are, Samantha.”
She gives me a small, lopsided smile. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
Her father finally turns, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “I just…I don’t know what we do after this.”
I exhale. I wish I had the right words. I wish there were something that could make this easier for them.
“I can’t imagine how you’re feeling,” I admit, my voice softer. “And I won’t pretend to have the answers, but I can tell you that you’re not alone. We’ll be here for anything you need.”
Her mother nods, wiping at her eyes as she tries to look away so her daughter doesn’t see.
Samantha looks up at me. “You used to be sick too, right?”
I freeze for a second, then nod. “Yeah. A long time ago.”
“And you got better?”
I swallow, nodding again. “I did.”
She hums, thoughtful. “I think it’s cool that you help kids like me now.”
My throat tightens as I reach for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re amazing, Samantha. I’m so grateful I got to meet and know you.”
She squeezes back and that little gesture tries to undo me completely.
When I leave the room, my chest feels too tight still. My heart always breaks for these families. But I push past the feelings weighing on me and go to follow up with my attending, run through some notes, and finally check the time.
My turn.
* * *
I make my way across the hospital, checking in for my annual scans and bloodwork.
I don’t love being on this side of things, but I don’t have much of a choice. Being cancer-free for ten years doesn’t make the fear of a possible relapse go away. Especially since it’s common with the type I had.
After going through the usual rounds—EKG, blood draws, scans, and a basic physical. I sit on the exam table, waiting for my results.
Dr. Brown walks in, flipping through my chart.
“Well,” he starts. “Most of your scans came back completely normal.”
I exhale a relieved breath and nod. “Good.”
“We’re still waiting on a few additional tests, though.
Some of them take a little longer, as you know, but based on everything we’ve got back so far, you’re in the clear.
I know you had some concerns, but I don’t see anything alarming.
We’ll call when we have the full results, but I wouldn’t lose sleep over it, Dr. Hayes. ”
I nod again, running a hand through my hair. “Sounds good.”
He pats my shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Everything’s looking good. Just take it a little easier. These years in the hospital can be grueling. Don’t overwork your body. It’s been through a lot in your lifetime.”
A wave of relief washes over me with the results as I shoot Wes a quick text.
Cam: All good. Everything is normal so far. Waiting on a few more tests, but looking all clear.
He replies immediately.
Wes: Glad you’re not secretly dying. You’re not allowed to leave me behind yet. Call Gabrielle before she has an actual panic attack.
I smirk, already dialing her number.
She picks up after the second ring.
“Hey,” she says. The sound of a TV playing fills the background on her end.
“Hey, trouble.”
“You calling me with good news?”
I lean back against the wall outside of my doctor’s office. “Yep. Everything came back normal so far. Just waiting on a couple more tests.”
She groans. “Ugh, I hate all the waiting. It’s so annoying.”
I chuckle. “Tell me about it.”
There’s a small pause before she asks, “So, what’s the plan now? You going home to get some rest?”
“Actually,” I say, glancing at the time. “I was thinking about picking you up for a last-minute dinner reservation to celebrate. Are you free?”
She hums. “Depends.”
“On?”
“What’s in it for me?”
I smirk. “Oh, you know. Good food. Excellent company. Devastatingly good-looking arm candy.”
She snorts. “Devastatingly?”
“I like to think so.”
Gabrielle laughs, and I can see the eye roll that probably accompanied it. “Yeah, I’m free. Just lounging around.”
I start walking down the hallway, lowering my voice just slightly. “And what exactly are you lounging in?”
She pauses. Then, with an absolutely sinful amount of amusement in her tone, she whispers, “Nothing.”
I nearly choke. “What?”
She sighs dramatically. “I just like to walk around my apartment naked when I’m alone. So freeing, you know?”
I drag a hand down my face, heat creeping up my neck. “Geez, Gabrielle—”
She laughs. “I’m kidding. I’m in sweatpants and a sports bra. Nothing sexy, trust me.”
I exhale a pained breath, shaking my head. “You could make a garbage bag look sexy, Gabrielle.”
She laughs again, and I can hear her smile through the phone. It’s my favorite form of oxytocin.
I glance at my watch. “I’ll be by in like an hour after I shower and change.”
“Sounds good,” she answers.
Before we hang up, I lower my voice again, teasing her. “If you were naked, I’d say don’t bother getting dressed. Just let me in, and I’ll handle the rest.”
She playfully gasps. “Dr. Hayes, how scandalous.”
I grin. “It’s one of my best qualities.”
“Mmm, I’ll see you soon.”
“See you, trouble.”
I hang up, shaking my head with a smirk before heading home to take a very cold, very long shower and then get to her as fast as possible.