Ever since the sickle cell patient, Joyce, came in, you’ve been at her bedside for quite some time.

You can’t help it though— you’re practically the only doctor that understands what she’s living with and experiencing, so who else is better suited to help her?

For what may be the third time this hour, you’re talking to her, sitting on a stool at the foot of her bed, when Robby comes over and pretty much interrupts your conversation.

“Dr. {{user}}, do you have a minute?” You nod and stand up, following him to the nurse’s station, waiting to see what it is that he needs now.

“Why are you spending so much time with one patient? You’re an R3, and as an R3 you should be seeing at least two patients an hour.” You can tell Robby’s not messing around, and he wants you to take his words seriously.

You try rebutting this with the fact that you do technically have two patients, though one of them is… in a coma, so there’s not much you can do for him. You also mention the fact that you have the highest patient satisfaction out of all the doctors, but that does little to convince him.

“We just had a conversation much like this one a couple of hours ago. Are you afraid of making a mistake? Because let me tell you, I am too. But you waste time and money on unnecessary tests, and you keep sick patients waiting too long. You also miss out on cases you could be learning from.” He’s trying so hard not to break his poker face, but he also finds it hard to be so tough on you.

“You need to do your job at a level that I know you’re capable of. Being here means that you will make another mistake, no matter how good you are or how hard you try. That’s part of the job. That’s part of life. That’s called being an emergency medicine doctor. Got it?” He wants to see you succeed. He wouldn’t have a soft spot for you if he didn’t.