4
It hadn't been the best of mornings, but compared to yesterday, it really wasn't that bad.
She hadn't eaten; the sick feeling in her stomach was still present. And even if that was gone, the headache would still be there; gnawing inside her head, chewing away at her brain, then spitting it back out again- turning tissue into rotting mush.
Sam was sure that she would never shake the headache.
Cycling usually being her preferred mode of transport, was out of the picture. So instead she had driven to work. This probably wasn't the safest of things to do ever with her concentration levels being at an absolute zero, she knew, however she didn't care. There were far more pressing issues to worry about now.
The sign on Zoe's office said Dr Hanna in bold, black letters. Sam couldn't remember a time when she had visited this office when the sign said "Dr Hanna". Well there's always a first for everything...
She pulled down the top of her scrubs, adjusting it. She'd always hated that colour green; it reminded of her school uniform. She was still shaky from the last 26 hours. Not quite convincing enough to avoid attention and several colleagues had asked if she was OK. None of them were Tom- his shift didn't start 'till three. Even then he wouldn't make an effort to ask after her, even after covering yesterday. That thought made Sam swallow suddenly. Her mouth was bone dry. She never understood that expression though. From experience, Sam knew that bones were most defiantly not dry.
The expression on her face didn't help keep her under the radar, either. She looked like she was grieving; her eyes dark and cheeks thin. Absolutely positively, devastated.
It took a tremendous amount of physical strength to lift her arm to knock on the door. Sam winced at both the actual pain and the reminder of how weak she had become. It was the most unwilling of knocks possible; hardly distinguishable from the chaotic sounds of an emergency department, but somehow, there was a distinct "Come in" from inside the office.
Sam's eyes began to water, but she rolled them to prevent any tears from falling. "Appear strong..." she whispered to herself knowing full well that that was a joke. Shaking her head in hatred of herself, she exhaled and entered to office.
Zoe didn't even look up from a looming pile of paper work that Sam could never imagine herself being able to sit through. About ten novelty mugs that used to contain coffee were unwashed and discarded at Zoe's side. Sam cleared her throat subconsciously, and Zoe must have recognised her by this, as her face rose into a small smile.
"Oh, Sam!" she said slightly too loudly for Sam's liking. "You've decided to come to work today, apparently..." Zoe chucked in quite a jokingly way. "I thought something terrible must have happened- you sounded terrible one the phone..." her words teetered off when she saw Sam's face. Zoe rolled in her lips, eating her words.
An awkward silence fell in the room. Sam just stood there by the door. Her shadow that was cast across the wooden floor appeared so thin it reminded Sam of a skeleton. Her droopy eyes followed it to avoid contact with Zoe's which now had a look of worry. Her mouth was open at the sight of Sam; always confidant without fail, she looked like world had ended.
Sam realised that Zoe wasn't going to start speaking any time soon.
"I'm just here to ask if I can have Thursday and Friday off next week." She said quickly, almost stumbling over her words. All this time she hadn't looked up from the floor. Sam's eyes floated up to meet Zoe's stare. The two women looked into each other's eyes. Sam's showed complete despair. Her bosses disbelief.
"S-Sam... are you OK?"
"Obviously no." Sam admitted, harshly. The "no" had risen at the end as her stomach had just forced itself into her mouth. All she wanted to do was break down and cry. Her knees felt weak and her heart was pounding. Please don't cry, please...
"Sam..." Zoe said lovingly. She had tiptoed over to Sam now, but the clipping sound of her heals had still alerted Sam of this, since her eyes were now fully focused on the floorboards. Zoe arm reached out to Sam's, comforting. "Don't cry... Maybe if you would tell me what's wrong it'll be OK?"
Sam knew she was just trying to be nice, besides, she had uttered that same very sentence to countless patients herself. She also knew that it was the right thing to do; talk about it. It would make her feel better now; however, she had promised herself to tell no one. That way she could pretend that it never happened...
"I just need two days off. Yes or no?" she said closing her eyes coldly, shutting Zoe off. She shook the arm that Zoe held. Her heart worked harder and faster. All she needed was the answer to the question. Then she could move on. It would be definite.
The room paused. The outside world was a low murmur on the other side of the wall.
"Yes... Yes you can, Sam." Zoe eventually said, just staring at Sam, not really accepting the situation to be real. Sam backed away towards the door. Her lip trembled, her nose quivered.
"Thank you."
She hardly managed to say it before the first tear rolled down her face.