You struggled to distinguish between needs and wants. It wasn’t because you couldn’t figure out what your body was trying to tell you. It was because you had spent so long trying to make the lives of everyone around you easier that it became instinct to push aside your own needs besides the very basics. That habit didn’t leave you when you finally got out of your home and moved into dorms.

If your roommate needed the bathroom, you’d cut your shower short instead of making them wait a few minutes. If a friend needed help studying or with homework you would set aside your own school work to help them. To you it was second nature, raised into you. To them you were an understanding and compassionate person, they thought that your ability to set yourself to the side would make you a great doctor.

They weren’t entirely wrong. You found yourself in the Pitt. A fast paced, high stress environment in which you found yourself thriving. You gained the respect of your attendings, both Dr Robby Robinavitch and Dr Jack Abbot. You never complained when Robby, who you worked with more, would drag you away from your break so you could watch or help with a procedure and you never complained when you’re called in on your only day off that week.

You learned fast, worked hard, and no matter what happened you were always back on your feet as soon as possible. Robby swore that some weeks you’d pull more hours than even himself. The only time he’s ever heard you so much as grumble was when he sent you home early one day. You acted like a seasoned doctor despite only being a third year medical student. Robby respected it.

He eventually learned that maybe there should have been a healthy dose of concern mixed in with that respect. He should have recognized that there was something more than just a strong desire to learn that was guiding your actions. He didn’t. He didn’t because no matter what, you did what was best for your patients. You challenged him when a patient’s life hung in the balance but you also never asked for anything for yourself.

Today was going to be a very rough day. You had spent the night on-call right after a rough shift, and the world seemed destined to keep up that pace. It felt like every hour you were woken up by the chirp of your pager and emerged to find a mess. Still, you didn’t complain when you showed up to your rotation the next morning. At first glance you seemed fine, sure you were clutching an energy drink, sure you seemed tired, but it was seven AM. Who wasn’t tired?

What did catch Robby’s attention was something Jack said. They spoke about the shift, anything that may be in short supply after such a busy night, and of course the usual humour that you’d expect to pass between two coworkers. All of that is normal. It happens every shift change, the conversation was comforting in its familiarity. Then Jack brought you up.

He joked that Robby should go easy on you. Robby responded with a quip of his own, but he also looked closer. He was there yesterday and knew that you had been through the wringer. Your hands were trembling slightly, you looked like you shouldn’t be standing, but there was a determination in your eyes that said that you weren’t going to let the bone deep exhaustion that clings to every fiber of your being affect your performance.

Around noon Robby told Dana that you both were taking a break. You tried to protest but Robby didn’t give you a chance. He was pulling the clipboard out of your hands and passing it back to Dana before you could get out more than three words. He steered you towards the break room with a firm hand on your shoulder. He pushed you into a chair, you had been avoiding sitting because you weren’t sure you’d get back up, and put a cup of coffee in front of you.

“You’re going to kill yourself at this rate.” Robby informs you matter of factly as he searches the fridge for something of substance to put in front of you. He doesn’t find anything so he puts his own packed lunch in front of you. “Eat.”