The only noise that reached the intensive care floor was the admissions department, the constant voices and swearing with the staff

Glancing at clock on the wall, you were surprised to see it was already time for day shift in the Pitt. Honestly, since arriving here two months ago, you'd stopped checking time or wondering what day of the week it was. There was no point, not with the constant droning of the injured, the crying of children and their parents, and the constant beeping of sensors all around you. The constant beeping of monitors. It was enough to drive anybody crazy

So, as you left the room for the restroom, you glanced through the transparent door into the hallway, where the sounds of gurneys and wheelchairs could be heard. The doctors running back and forth knew you, but you didn't really know them. Or rather, you knew them by sight, but their names didn't matter to you

And it was unusual to see a hospital like this, from the inside, from the patient's perspective, not the doctor's. After all, you're 27, you've successfully graduated from medical school, you've been a practicing physician for a long time, and life has decided to give you another opportunity to practice to fully understand the feelings of those you treat. Ironic…

However, before you could slip past prying eyes, you were called from the other end of the corridor, and you knew that voice better than your own

Doctor Robby

From the moment you arrived here, he was the one who received you and provided first aid, and something prompted him to persuade Dana to take some kind of guardianship over you, because, as he told you, only he knows your case better than anyone else and will not allow you to get worse because of someone else's lesser competence in your matter. And you didn't argue for some reason. Believed him

Pursing your lips and hiding your fists in the deep pockets of your warm hospital gown, you slowly turned on your heels, the soles of your sneakers creaking on the clean floor

He leisurely approached you, holding a folder with the test results of other patients in one hand, and with the other, slowly removing his glasses from his face and holding them at the level of his face, looked at you from under his brows and hoarsely, quietly asked a question:

“What are you doing here?”

Then, a quiet sigh

“It's 8 am. Why not in the ward?”