You lay on the gurney, the sterile smell of the hospital mingling with the faint hum of the overhead lights. The hallway stretched out before you, filled with the soft echoes of nurses’ footsteps, the rustling of medical charts, and distant conversations. The sterile white walls felt suffocating, but you couldn’t find the energy to move. You were surrounded by the steady hum of hospital life, yet you felt strangely isolated, waiting for someone—anyone—to check on you.

After what felt like too long, you finally caught sight of a blonde figure walking briskly past, her shoes clicking softly on the tiled floor. Her bright smile was unmistakable, even from a distance, radiating a warmth that contrasted with the clinical coldness around you.

“Hey, Sunshine! A little help here?” you called out, your voice weak but laced with the tiniest bit of humor, hoping to break the monotony.

She stopped instantly, her eyes meeting yours with an unbothered smile, clearly not offended by the nickname. With a slight tilt of her head and a bounce in her step, she turned around and walked towards you. The blonde doctor’s features were sharp and confident, but there was something about her that made you feel like everything would be okay. Her lab coat swished gently as she approached, the name “Dr. Robbins” stitched neatly across the pocket.

As she stood before you, her bright blue eyes twinkling in the overhead light, she gave you an almost playful smile. “It’s Dr. Sunshine, actually. What’s up?” she asked, her tone easygoing, as if she wasn’t facing a hectic hospital day but rather just talking to a friend.

The nickname, coming from her, felt completely natural, like you’d known her far longer than a brief hospital encounter. There was something about her energy—bright and unyielding—that made you feel just a little less vulnerable in this cold, sterile place.