Carina's First Day as an Intern

Carina had matched at Johns Hopkins, not a surprise given that she had been top of her class at that very institution. This had made everything a lot easier, because otherwise she and Maya would have had to pick up and move with very short notice. Carina loved Maya more than anything, but she wasn't the easiest to move with. Well, logistically she made moving easy, but all of her lists, albeit incredibly useful, drove Carina insane. Plus, it was always stressful for Maya, and usually resulted in daily panic attacks. Despite the multitude of lists, Maya was always convinced that they were forgetting something. So as excited as Carina was to be working at one of the best hospitals in the country, she was almost more relieved that they hadn't had to go anywhere for her to do so.

This was the first of Carina's three graduations that did not lead up to a vacation. Instead of having the summer off as they usually did, Carina's internship was scheduled to begin virtually right away. So, in the week since she'd crossed the stage, she and Maya had been spending as much time together as possible in preparation for the traditional 36-hour shift that would begin Carina's career as a doctor. Maya was about to get pretty busy herself. Following her win at the Olympics four years prior, for the first time in her life, she hadn't had the slightest idea what she was going to do next. She had spent the majority of Carina's time in med school cherishing her newfound freedom. She had attempted to take up a hobby, but twenty failed scarves and a trash can full of crumpled origami swans later, Maya had determined that she wasn't really the hobby type. Instead, she'd started to run again, not competitively, just as a way to stay healthy and get rid of excess energy. She'd started going to therapy, and finally told off her dad. She'd tried to get her mom to leave him, but that had gone over about as smoothly as the origami swans. When Maya had told her therapist about that particular detail, she'd told her that Katherine had to come to that decision herself, if and when she was ready.

Over the course of that four years, Maya had also helped Mason through five separate stints in rehab. The longest Mason had managed to stay sober in between them was six months. Every time he had called her in tears from an alleyway, or an E.R. doctor had informed her of another overdose, the crack in her heart had gotten a little bit bigger. No matter how often her therapist, or Carina, had assured her that it wasn't her fault, Maya couldn't help but to think that it was. If only she hadn't gone so far or stayed away so long. Realistically, it was a miracle that Mason wasn't dead. There had been many close calls, including a bad batch that had landed him on a ventilator for almost a month. However, there was a reason that he wasn't dead— the paramedics that had dedicated their life to being first responders, who jumped into action the second they were alerted by dispatch about a possible heroin overdose, who rushed to the scene and administered Narcan, and gave him CPR until they were blue in the face and their hands were numb. The paramedics who loaded Mason into an ambulance and assured him that everything was going to be okay and made sure that it was until he could be handed off to the doctors.

It was the moment that a wide-eyed, red-haired girl in a Seattle Fire Department uniform had found Maya at the hospital and handed her Mason's wallet, asking for an update, telling her that she'd recognized her from a photo tucked into a $20 bill, that Maya knew what her new dream was. She wanted to be a first responder, more specifically a firefighter. Fire had always fascinated Maya, ever since her neighbor's house had gone up in flames during a storm when she was ten. She'd awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of sirens and had watched from her window as the firefighters had jumped out of the truck yelling orders, and put the fire out with a hose. So, while Carina was about to start an OB/GYN internship, Maya was about to start at the fire academy.

Carina was in the process of deciding whether or not she wanted to go to the "welcome mixer" that the hospital was holding as a way for the interns to mingle before being shoved into the thick of it together. Carina would have been excited to go, but she knew that it was more for the surgical interns than anyone. In the grand scheme of things, they were the popular kids, and OB was the lowest of the low— even the nurses were higher on the totem pole. Carina was not sure that she wanted to spend an entire evening with a plethora of drunk baby surgeons bragging about how they were going to be the first of their peers to enter an OR. The event would most likely end in one-night stands for half of the attendees anyways, and Carina already had a beautiful woman in her bed every night. The same woman, who she loved, and planned on being the only woman that she ever slept with. Maya had encouraged her to go, saying that she would never know what could have been if she didn't. Maybe she would meet her new best friend or beat a cocky surgeon in beer pong. Carina had reminded Maya of what had happened the last time she'd played beer pong, adding that she had no desire to be friends with any surgeons and doubted that a single other OB would be there. To that Maya had shrugged, saying that it was up to her, but she would be delighted to tag along and keep her company. Carina had to admit that she liked the sound of that: a chance to get drunk on free booze with her girlfriend and make fun of her future colleagues. Plus, regardless of Carina's customary preference not to focus on such things, showing up with an Olympian on her arm definitely wouldn't hurt her image. When Carina mentioned that to Maya, she replied that she would be happy to serve as arm candy for the night if it meant that everyone would get the opportunity to see that running wasn't the only category where she had struck gold. Carina laughed.

"How did I get so lucky?"

"No, Carina, the whole point is that I got lucky."

"Stupida."

"My girlfriend, Carina DeLuca, is beyond amazing, and she's going to be an incredible doctor, and I am lucky to get the chance to be the woman on her arm," Maya continued. Carina's cheeks flushed, and she poked Maya's chest with her finger.

"Bambina, you might just get lucky if you keep this up."

"Oh," Maya raised her eyebrows, "I like the sound of that."

"You do, do you?" Carina teased as she placed her hands on Maya's hips, and stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

"I really do." Maya captured Carina's lips with her own.

For the next few hours, Carina and Maya forgot all about the mixer. They forgot about everything that wasn't a tangle of body parts, and the bottle of whipped cream that Carina had swiped from the fridge on the way to their bedroom. That was, until a calendar notification went off on Carina's phone, and they realized that they were most definitely in need of a shower, and most definitely going to be late. At half past 11, over an hour since its start, Carina walked into the basement of her alma mater's center building in a long-sleeved navy-blue jumpsuit with her arm wrapped around Maya, whose one goal to make her girlfriend the bell of the ball was helped along by the Team USA button pinned to her dress. Being fashionably late appeared to have been the right move, causing every glossed over eye in the room to look their way. With just one accidental grand entrance, Carina had moved a notch higher on the totem pole.

However, that did not make it any easier when the harsh, monotone beeping of her alarm clock sprung Carina from a dream the next morning. Due to their late arrival, she and Maya had drunk considerably more red wine than they should have in a short amount of time. Sure, she had a high tolerance, but there were very few people immune to the clutches of a red wine hangover. Carina grabbed her pillow, and held it over her face, screaming as loud as her tired vocal cords would allow. Why they held the "welcome mixer" the night before their first day Carina could only guess: some type of masochistic power move from the higher ups, or perhaps just a well-intended lesson in the dangers of partying while on the job. Whatever the reason, Carina wished that she hadn't fallen for it, or at least hadn't drunk nearly as much as she had. There were easier, less consequential ways to get free booze. The muffled scream drew Maya out of her own alcohol induced slumber, her head shooting up as she looked around.

"What? What's wrong?" she asked frantically, before groaning and grabbing her head.

"That." Carina replied, referring to the migraine that Maya was in the process of discovering, one identical to her own. She couldn't help but to smile when she took in the sight of her girlfriend. Carina's memory of their return to the apartment was hazy at best, but she had a vague recollection of Maya stripping naked before getting into bed, mumbling something about how she no longer needed to wear clothes. Maya's sudden movements upon waking up had jostled the sheets, revealing what was exposed underneath.

"I am resentful that you have the option to go back to sleep whereas I must go work for 36 hours, but I will admit that the sight of your culo nudo (bare ass) is helping." Maya took this as a hint to examine herself and realized that it was not the hangover that was responsible for her shivering, but rather her lack of clothing.

"Oh."

"Si. 'Oh.'" Carina teased. Maya looked up at her with wide eyes, biting down on her lip. She tucked her unbrushed hair behind her ear in an attempt to prevent it from falling in front of her face.

"Do you have to go right now?"

"Si. I cannot be late," Carina nodded, then paused before adding, "You are very cute even though your teeth are purple, because someone was too drunk to brush them last night." Maya groaned and dropped back onto her stomach.

"Yeah, because it was way too much work, and it is still too much work, and I am going back to sleep until the sun turns off, because I feel like I am dying, and instead of sexing me up, my girlfriend is going to go look up other women's vaginas." Carina laughed, and then regretted it due to the dull aching in her head that followed. She leaned across the bed and placed a sloppy kiss on Maya's forehead.

"The only vagina I have eyes for is yours, bella, do not worry."

"I love you. You are going to kill it. It, not a person. You are not going to kill a person." Carina rolled her eyes.

"Thank you for that, Maya. I assure you that one of those insopportabile (insufferable) surgeons that we met last night is way more likely to kill a person today than I am."

"True."

"I love you, bambina. Dormi bene. Text me when you can." Maya let out a grunt in response, already beginning to doze off again.

As Carina looked up at the hospital, she was equally excited and terrified. She was worried that she might throw up, and not just because of the hangover.

"Eventually we are going to have to go in," came a voice from behind her. Carina turned. The speaker was a blonde-haired girl with bright blue eyes and a baby face. She looked familiar, but Carina couldn't put her finger on why.

"Solo un momento longer," Carina said in reply. The woman's eyes lit up with recognition.

"Omg, you were the one who showed up late last night! With Maya Bishop!" Carina was not sure she had ever heard someone say "omg" out loud before. She had to admit, she was intrigued.

"Si," she nodded, "That was me."

"I have to admit, I am a big fan of your girlfriend's. We moved around a lot when I was growing up, and the Olympics was a constant that I could enjoy anywhere we went. I still cannot believe that Maya ran on that ankle and won. It was very impressive." Carina gave her a tight smile.

"Very. I cannot say that I was thrilled at the time, but she is one of a kind."

"Oh wow. So, you were already together then? How long if you don't mind me asking?" Just thinking about it made Carina feel warm and tingly.

"Since sophomore year of high school. I was actually there in London."

"That is so cute. I honestly thought that Maya was straight until I saw her with you last night. There haven't been a lot of public figures like us. It is nice to know that there was at least one, even if it wasn't public knowledge." Carina found herself being more drawn to this perky blonde by the second. Maybe she would make a friend after all.

"I'm Carina," she said, holding out her hand.

"Arizona. Arizona Robbins," the woman shook it, then added, "My dad wanted to honor his father. Navy. U.S.S. Arizona. Hence the name. We are a military family."

"Ah. While I am unaware of my mamma and papà's exact thought process, I do know that Carina means 'beloved' or 'dear' in Italian."

"I like that. Are you surgery?" Carina sighed. Here it was. The question that would inevitably end the pleasantries, stopping their budding friendship before it even had a chance to get off the ground.

"No. OB."

"Oh, sweet! That is so cool. I'm surgery, but I want to go into Pediatrics, so I guess that means we could be working in tandem," Arizona announced excitedly. Having expected disappointment, Carina could barely hide the unadulterated happiness that overtook her instead.

"I think that we are going to be friends," she thought aloud.

"Absolutely. In fact, I would say that we are already friends," Arizona said in response. Carina smiled. She was glad that she had taken the time to digest her surroundings before going inside. Otherwise, Arizona very well may have been just another cocky surgeon, and her another silly OB. Although, it appeared as if, like Carina, Arizona did not hold the opinion that OBs were any lesser than surgeons just because they wore pink scrubs and weren't scalpel junkies.

Carina and Arizona had parted ways at the elevator, making plans to meet up again at the cafeteria when they got the chance. With an athlete as a long-term partner, Carina had seen her fair share of locker rooms. When she walked into the one designated for OB, she was pleasantly surprised. Compared to the sweaty closets filled with hormones she that was used to, it resembled the powder room of a 5-star restaurant. Carina hadn't heard great things about the surgery locker rooms, but it made sense. Surgery was often emergent, life or death, which meant that it didn't always bring in a lot of money. They couldn't very well deny someone a procedure that would save their life due to a lack of 0s at the end of the number in their bank account or hold off on a critical operation while they checked for proper insurance. Babies were different. Humans had been giving birth for hundreds of years, and most were perfectly capable of doing so on their own if need be. Those who chose to give birth in a hospital had the money to do so, and sometimes even sought out particular facilities. Babies brought in money. Surgery hemorrhaged it. It was one of the things that Dr. Blaylock, her mentor and favorite med school teacher, had always been telling her. Dr. Blaylock was one of the most well renowned OB/GYNs and fetal surgeons of her time, and when Carina had shown up to her obstetrics seminar her first day of med school to find Dr. Blaylock standing at the front of the classroom, she'd texted Maya in a panic ranting about how she was going to pass out and make a fool of herself. She had done neither, instead being the first to answer one of Blaylock's questions correctly, earning herself the title of "official mentee" until she had graduated. Carina barely had time to change into her scrubs before she heard the scrambled, nervous chatter of her fellow interns, signaling that the chief of OB had entered. Carina quickly tied her hair behind her head in a ponytail and moved so that she was visible.

"Good morning, everyone, I am Dr. Laurier, the chief of Obstetrics and Gynecology here at Johns Hopkins. First of all, I must be transparent and say that this is the most interns we've had start off here in years. Most of our department were once overly confident surgical residents that burnt out and switched to what they believed was an easier specialty. I guess convincing Dr. Blaylock to teach instead of retiring to Florida has paid off." There were a few scattered laughs, everyone too wary of potential consequences to react strongly. "God, laugh a little will yah? I won't bite. As I am sure you all have been made well aware, there was a reason why I worded that the way that I did. When doctors switch to OB, they believe that it is an easier specialty, emphasis on believe. Contrary to popular belief, OB is not all that different from surgery, and can honestly be harder at times. Every case there are least two separate patients that you have to worry about, the mother and the baby. Most cases there is also a second parent that requires your attention, and sometimes there are even three or four depending on the situation. Don't even get me started on whether your patient is a first-time mother, for that is a double-edged sword. First time parents are paranoid about every little thing and will call you multiple times a day. Repeat parents bring along their other children, causing you to have even more to deal with. Crap. I fear that I am getting carried away. It is time for the obligatory you are the doctors now speech. I'll keep it short and simple: a week ago you were being taught by doctors, now you are the doctors. Don't screw it up. I will let your residents take it from here."

With that Dr. Laurier was gone, leaving two younger doctors in her place. Unlike Dr. Laurier, whose scrubs had been salmon, their scrubs were the same pastel pink color as those that Carina and her peers wore.

"Allen, DeLuca, Martinez, you're with me," the shorter of the two said, glancing down to read over the list in her hand. Carina grabbed her stethoscope from her locker and draped it over her shoulders, before following her resident into the hallway.

"My name is Dr. Polly. A year ago, I was the only OB intern, and unlike Dr. Laurier, I cannot say that I am thrilled about this sudden uptake in interest. I spent my first shift juggling three separate cases, one of which was a single mother with pre-existing triplets who all had ADHD. Therefore, I find it widely unfair that each of you will probably only have one case at a time today. Do not expect me to be sympathetic if you find the next 36 hours overwhelming, because I promise you that you will survive, and it could be much worse. Any questions?" No one said a word, and Dr. Polly continued to stare at them. Carina realized that they weren't going anywhere until she got an answer.

"No," she said, taking one for the team. Allen and Martinez gave her a grateful smile. Carina already had so much that she wanted to tell Maya, and the shift had barely begun. She had anticipated that it would be a rough few months, but she'd been hoping for a resident that would be rooting for her success rather than being bitter over the differences in their experiences that she had absolutely no control over. Carina figured that she could learn from it, given that medicine was often just as unforgiving, a collection of outcomes that were more luck than hard work, despite the sheer amount of hard work that was involved.

It was hour three and Carina had already cleaned more than one bedpan, and successfully delivered a baby. She had been paged to her patient's room with neither Dr. Polly nor Dr. Laurier anywhere in sight, but the baby had been in no mood to wait for them. Carina had studied the protocol associated with delivery so extensively that she had it memorized, but preforming it was a whole other ball game. When her gloved hands were halfway up the birth canal, Dr. Polly had finally appeared, talking her through the rest of the birth, before taking her out into the hallway and somehow blaming her for her own ignorance of the page.

"Forget what Dr. Laurier said about you being a doctor, DeLuca. You are not a doctor. You do not deliver babies. You deal with the families so that the real doctors don't have to, you draw blood, you pick up lab results, and you clean bedpans. You will not under any circumstances deliver another baby on your own, do you hear me? If I am not there, you page me again, and if you absolutely need to, you page Dr. Laurier, but you do not deliver the baby by yourself, am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am." As much as Carina hated standing down when she was in the right, she knew that this was not a battle worth fighting. If she tried, it would just make Dr. Polly dislike her more.

"And listen, DeLuca, you may have been Dr. Blaylock's protégé, but that does not mean anything to me. To me you are just as useless as the rest of the interns, and I plan on making sure that you do not get any special treatment just because this hospital's precious Blaylock thought you were noteworthy." Carina nodded, not trusting herself to speak without speaking her mind. She wanted to tell Dr. Polly that she had never asked for special treatment, that she'd only delivered the baby because its head was already visible, and she had paged her again, more than once. But instead, she nodded, and walked in the direction of the nurse's station to drop off the chart. When she got there, there was a group of surgical interns standing in a huddle by the entrance to the stairwell.

"Can you believe there's an Olympian here?"

"Do you think one of us will get to operate on her?"

"Nothing looked wrong with her."

"It's a hospital, Gordon, and she's an Olympian. Of course there is something wrong with her." Carina felt herself getting her hopes up. Most likely they were right, and this was a different Olympian, who was in need of some form of surgery. But how many Olympians were there that lived in Baltimore? At the same time, Johns Hopkins was number three on the list of best hospitals in the country, so it was reasonable to assume that an Olympian living elsewhere may have made the trip in order to receive the best possible care. Carina groaned. This was getting her nowhere; she'd have to ask the surgeons.

"Hey, I could not help but to overhear," she cut in, "What Olympian is it?"

"Why? Jealous that your pink scrubs will never allot you the chance to meet a high-profile patient?" one of them replied. He was gruff with curly black hair and a 5 o' clock shadow. Carina could tell that he was the ringleader of the bunch, just by the look he'd given Gordon who had been prepared to give Carina an answer to her question. Before she had a chance to respond, she heard Maya.

"Dr. DeLuca?" She turned and smiled, signaling by holding up her index finger that she needed a second. Maya nodded. Carina had held her tongue with her boss, but these were other interns, and although they thought that they had more authority than her, she knew that they did not, and she was ready to put them in their place.

"First of all, idiota, pink is far more interesting, and stylish than blue. Second of all, I do not need to use my job title as a crutch to meet people, nor do I need to know any celebrities to feel good about myself. Now, if you will excuse me, I have plans to eat lunch with my girlfriend and tell her all about the new life that I just brought into this world while you were, what, putting in a central line and trolling the E.R. for, as you say, 'high profile patients?'" At this point 5 o' clock shadow was red in the face, seething as he absently swatted at Gordon, who was poking him and gesturing at Maya.

"Okay, whatever, you are dating an Olympian and you delivered a baby. So what? People give birth all the time," he said, pretending to be nonchalant, but Carina could sense the urgency in his voice.

"Women give birth, Chad," Carina corrected him. She'd remembered something that Maya had told her about Chad being a generalized term for a misogynistic frat boy type, which explained this man to a T. "Not just people. Women. Also, I can see that you have taken it to heart when I told you that pink was more stylish due to the shade of it on your face right now."

"My name is not—"

Carina interrupted him before he got the chance to finish, "My deepest apologies, I really should get going. I do not have much time to eat, and I would like to enjoy it." Carina reached for Maya's hand, and the two of them took off towards the cafeteria, not daring to look back until they were out of sight. When "Chad" and friends were no longer within earshot, Carina let out a sigh of relief, and Maya burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, did you see the look on his face? He was absolutely livid, being shown up like that in front of his boys."

"And by a woman, and an OB, no less," Carina added, "How did you know where to find me?"

"I ran into this ray of sunshine of a woman, Arizona, who remembered me from last night. She said that the two of you were friends, and that she'd spoken to you again this morning. She told me where you would probably be," Maya explained. Carina smiled at the thought of her new friend. She'd been worried about how to cancel their lunch plans, given that they had yet to exchange phone numbers, but now she no longer needed to.

"Ah si, that new best friend of mine that you were referencing last night in regard to why I should go to the mixer."

"So, what I am hearing is that I was right?" Maya asked, "I'm going to be completely honest, I do not remember much from said mixer."

"No, we did not become friends last night. This morning, while I was standing outside the hospital trying to calm myself down enough that I could go in without vomiting. She came up behind me and was actually really helpful. She talked about how much it meant to her to have learned that there had been a figura pubblica she'd looked up to that liked women after all."

"Oh woah. I did not even think about the implications of that. I guess I met you young enough that I never needed a role model that was like me, because I had you."

"Si. Lo stesso per me, ma tu." (Same for me, but you.)

"So, being best friends with a surgeon, huh?"

"Stai zitto e ascolta come ho fatto nascere un bambino," (Shut up and listen to how I delivered a baby,) Carina said in an attempt to keep Maya from calling her on her bluff.

"Wait, Carina, you actually delivered a baby? You did not just say that to make 'Chad' feel bad about himself?" she paused, then added, "Haha, Chad feel bad." Carina gave her a look.

"Stupida. Yes, I actually delivered a baby. I got paged and my resident did not show up in time, and the bambino's head was already halfway out of the vagina." Maya stepped in front of Carina, preventing her from going any further. "Cosa?"

"Carina DeLuca, you mean to tell me that you delivered a baby all by yourself, on your first day as an intern?"

"Si, Maya. Do we need to take you downstairs to get your hearing checked? I have said that three times."

"Holy fuck, Carina, I'm so proud of you. Pardon my French, but you brought a life into this world today all by yourself." Maya grabbed Carina, and kissed her, hard, not caring that they were in the middle of her workplace. Carina, on the other hand, did care.

"Okay, bella, usually I am all for the public displays of affection, but my resident already hates me enough without catching me making out with my fidanzata while I am supposed to be working," she said, then sighed contentedly, taking Maya's hand again instead, "Grazie. Ti amo."

"Ti amo. We will talk about your resident later, but first we must go to the cafeteria, because I am starving, and I bet that you are also starving, and you must tell me every single detail."

They had only made it about as far as the doors to the cafeteria before Carina's pager had gone off, signaling her next patient. Maya had reluctantly left with a kiss, numerous words of encouragement, and a promise to text her.

Ten hours and a plethora of dirty bed pans later, Carina found herself curled up on the floor of an on-call room smelling of placenta and puke, attempting to use the official John's Hopkins Hospital hoodie that she'd snatched from the gift shop as a pillow. They had last dibs on the on-call rooms, below every attending, resident, and surgical intern. On this particular night, there had only been one left. Allen and Martinez had arrived first, each taking a bunk, before texting Carina to let her know they had found one— so much for repaying her earlier favor. That was why she was on the floor, exhausted, praying that in spite of the less than ideal conditions she could manage to get merely a wink of sleep before her pager would go off once again and continue this lovely introduction she was getting to her dream job. Precisely at the same moment that she was beginning to drift away, her surroundings disappearing from her consciousness, there was the same beeping that had been controlling her whole day, that had woken her that morning, and it was back on her feet to start all over again.