”I’ve been in baggage claim for twenty minutes, I’m really in a rush, sir. Can you check?”
…And now I know I’ve pissed him offbecause he doesn’t even take time to look at my breasts.
” Look, ma’am, the band is working. Now you can either wait for your suitcase or walk away without it, I don’t care. Stop bothering me while I am trying to do my job.”
Ugh! What an asshole! Papa warned me about the edgy American behavior, but I refused to believe everyone was so damn rude all the time.
Miraculously, I spot my pink suitcase strolling along with some other pieces of luggage. Thank God! I’m way behind schedule anyway. I grab the thing and start power walking my way to the exit of this damn place. I have never liked airports. Too many people walking in too many directions and making noise.
Clicking my high heels on the floor – it was a bad idea to wear high heels on a nine nine-hour flight - I finally get out to a sea of people waiting outside. Great, now I have to spot Paris. Good thing my dear cousin has hot burgundy hair and long legs. That makes her easier to be found in a crowd, especially when she’s waving both hands above her head like she’s doing right now.
“Oh, my God, I can’t believe you’re finally here!” She jumped on me full force, her limbs around my body like a boa constrictor.” I missed you! I missed you! I missed you!” I know, I missed her too. All our lives, summers and big holidays were spent traveling back and forth between France and the States, so we could be together, and since we were old enough to have a phone, we have texted all day, every day. Sadly, because of nursing school and her modeling career, we haven’t seen each other in almost two years.
So, she can scream, sway her arms around, do a dance, I don’t care, I’m just glad I get to see my cousin.
Too bad I don’t have time to enjoy it right now.
” Me too, love, more than you know it.” And I’m serious, I can barely hold my tears, and Paris is already brushing a few from her own face. ”We really need to go. I’d love nothing more than to catch up, but can we do it later tonight? I’m late for my first day at the hospital.”
She sniffs her nose and looks at me confused.
”Wait, today is your first day?”
I nod. I know, I’m stupid.
”But you just got off the plane.”
”My flight was delayed almost thirty hours because of a mechanics strike and I had to switch my itinerary, take a connection from Barcelona. It was a mess, really.”
My back is wooden , my joints hurt and I haven’t had a decent shower in three days but I can’t screw this up. This exchange program is the biggest opportunity to complete my education early. Two years here will equivalent to the three I have left to graduate.
” I have to drive you straight to the hospital; I don’t even get a quick bite? And you just flew for ten hours and have jet lag, can you work?”
” I managed to catch a few hours of sleep on the plane. I’m good, really. I’ll take you out tonight, but right now you have to help me carry this suitcase and move, Paris!”
No one would wish to be in Paris’ way when she’s in a rush, trust me. We made it all the way from O’Hare to Old Town in twenty minutes and we stopped at a Starbucks drive-through. When she parked the car in front of the hospital, I still had five more minutes to spare, and yes, we used it to cry in her car. But now it’s time to put on my big girl pants because I have to meet my key person. Dr. Zachary Ford, the letter of orientation said, and he’d tell me everything I need to know.
Adjusting the handbag on my shoulder and straightening my back, I walk into the ER and take a deep, calming breath. It’s ok, I’ve done this before. I’d worked in Lyon’s Regional Health Center for nine months as a scrub nurse, I know my way around the OR, I know everything by the book. True, Lyon’s Regional is not this ginormous medical center, but I can do it. I know I can.
Three o’clock by the ER admission desk, that’s what the letter said, so I take my place right there and wait.
I look around and I see a few lost young doctors walking by, probably interns or first-year residents, carrying lab samples. Another doctor, a woman with beautiful, long, black hair in a ponytail, is stitching up a child, and a nurse is changing the sheets on a bed that was just used. I let out a heavy breath, relieved that it’s quiet around. I was a little scared of the transition to a big city hospital but if I’m lucky, things will stay mellow until I learn the ropes around here.
The black-haired doctor is struggling to grab a pair of scissors from the sewing tray, and I almost bolt to help her out of impulse, but I stop myself at the last second. Better not jump the gun before I talk to Dr. Ford. I’m surprised she doesn’t have a nurse to help though. Actually, I’m surprised there’s not many people on sight in the ER.
What, people don’t get sick in Chicago?
Speaking of, where’s my attending? My watch, which is precisely set to Eastern time, tells me I should have met him fifteen minutes ago.
A nurse in pinks scrubs comes to the desk, and I find up the courage to go and ask her for help.
“Excuse me.”
She looks up from the yellow file she’s holding and smiles at me.
“Yes, can I help you, are you looking for a patient?”
“No, actually I’m the new scrub nurse. I’m waiting for Dr. Zachary Ford.” Her luminous smile withered away as she noted something on the file before answering. Her tone was bored and uninterested.
Did I do something?
“Aha, I don’t see him. I’ll page him.” She doesn’t wait for anything else, just gives me another dirty look and goes out into the hallway.
That was weird. That’s exactly why I should stay in my place until I have an idea of what’s these people’s deal.
Ten more minutes pass and I’m one step away from finding that nurse and make her page the attending again when the doctor who was working in the ER approached the admission desk. She took out an iPad and noted something on it, probably the electronic chart, and then she did something very funny: she found a mug with coffee, looked at it, smelled it, and took a big gulp. I couldn’t keep myself from smiling, and she saw me doing it. Luckily, she smiles back.
“That’s not yours, is it?” I ask. The brunette shrugs her shoulders.
“Don’t judge, I’ve been here since last night. Can I help you with something? I’ve noticed you didn’t move for the past half hour.”
“Umm...someone named Dr. Zachary Ford should do my orientation today and show me around. I’m the new staff.”
She looks at me from my eyes all the way down and back up, and nods in approval.
Thanks? I think.
“You’re Zach’s new scrub nurse?”
“Yes.” Or I will when he bothers to show up.
“I’m Jessica Monroe, pediatric third-year resident. Welcome to Chicago General.” Jessica holds her hand out and I shake it with gratitude.
“Thank you, I can’t wait to start. Actually, I came here straight from the airport.” Snorting, she leans on the admission desk and takes another sip from the stolen coffee.
“I can hear an accent in your speech. Canada?”
“France.” I say and her eyes widen.