-Part 4-
"Pressure"
March 5
A confining pain engulfs Robin as she lays in a bed up in the ICU. She stares up at the ceiling with a haunting face, barely blinking. Darkness fills the room and she lets her roommate sleep, having trouble doing so herself. From time to time, Robin hears noises from out in the hall; her ears ring and everything sounds distorted as emptiness fills her body. The stagnant air encircles her and teases her with feelings of sleep and well-being. Her eyelids become heavy and fall shut.
No sooner than she drifts off, her roommate (on pain medication, and high as a kite) decides to entertain her at one in the morning. "Xanadu!! Blah blah blah blah, Xanadu..."
Robin jumps and lets out sharp breaths. "God, in heaven..." she says softly. "Sir, please," she tries to make him quit, "if you could––"
He continues and keeps interrupting her.
"Sir, could...please... could ya cut it out?!"
The man keeps going, forgetting words and singing off-key.
Realizing it's useless to try to get his attention, Robin flops her head back down on the pillow and rolls her eyes at the ceiling. After listening to more, she gets angry and decides to turn her back to him––rolling over, pulling at the bedding, and grumbling to herself, "Crazy-ass...keepin' me up at one in the mornin'...good-for-nothin' tone-deaf guy wakin' me up..." She shakes her head and sighs as she closes her eyes; the man suddenly stops and Robin raises her eyebrows, saying in a whisper, "Thank you, God."
The silence doesn't last, though, as the man blurts out, "FAME!! I wanna live forever..." Robin's eyes are wide as she listens to more, "I wanna learn how to fly, high!!"
Now morning, Robin walks out of the private bathroom, dressed in green scrubs. She sits down on the bed and leans back against the head of the bed, which has been lifted. Her roommate, who evidently loves 80's musicals, has now been discharged, and she sits alone. She hears someone knock on the door and she looks over to see Dr. Robert Romano standing in the doorway, surprised to see him here. Robin grins, "Hi!"
"Well, well, well..." he says, "if it isn't our own Dr. Shepherd. Decided to join the patients, have you?"
"Tee-hee," she says sarcastically. "Not by choice."
Romano nods, "Yeah, I know what you mean." Only five months ago, Robert, himself, became a patient when he was trying to transport a patient on the roof. Luka and Dr. Susan Lewis were arguing with him about who was going to get to use the helicopter first. Robert won the argument and moved his patient closer to the chopper; then, the wind slung the chart to the concrete. He bent down to pick it up–– not realizing he was near the tail's rodder––and as he stood, the blades sliced his left arm completely off. He is still recovering and trying to get some use of it back.
"You look horrible," he says.
"So everyone keeps tellin' me," she says, sounding melancholy. "For one thing, my roommate, Mr. Davenport, kept me up 'til two this mornin' singin' songs from 80's musicals!"
Romano chuckles, "Well, that explains it." He notices Robin's behavior and becomes concerned. "Rob, are you gonna talk to anybody?"
She looks up at him, "Hmm-what?"
"Are ya gonna talk to anyone..." he repeats, "therapy?"
Nodding, she says, "Yeah, today. DeRadd said he'd see me."
"Good," he tells her, and an awkward silence falls. "So, uh...I guess I'll leave you alone and let you get some rest," he grins slightly, "we'll see ya soon." As Romano turns to the door, he suddenly remembers, "Oh, I got you a present!"
"Really?! You?!"
He hands her three candy bars, and leaves––saying on his way out, "It reminded me of you!"
Sitting in silence, Robin seems amused, offended, and touched at his gesture. She smiles and lets out a dry laugh––tossing the chocolate onto the bed and looking out the window at the city outside.
Robin sits outside the office of Dr. Carl DeRadd––the chief of Psychiatry. She moves around in her chair impatiently––running her fingers through her hair and drumming her fingers on the armrests. Suddenly, the door opens.
"Ah, Dr. Shepherd, come in," DeRadd smiles.
She gets up and walks into his office––trailing a hand down the front of her scrub top, getting the wrinkles out.
Inside the room, he closes the door and says, "Take a seat." As Robin sits, DeRadd walks behind his desk and sits down himself. "So, Dr. Shepherd, we all heard about what happened the other day," he says, "and we are deeply sorry."
"Thank you..." she tells him, "but it's not your fault. If it's anybody's fault, it's my own."
"Why are you blaming yourself?"
"Wouldn't you blame yourself of you'd just been diagnosed with an incurable disease?"
DeRadd wonders why Robin isn't as forthcoming with her feelings as he'd hoped. "I'm guessing you don't really feel up to talking right now, do you?"
Robin rubs her forehead, "No...not really."
He nods his head, realizing her physical state. "Okay... We can talk another time," he says as he stands.
Robin stands up and shakes his hand, "Thanks," and turns to leave. She opens the door and walks out––her expression disappears altogether; she looks haunted, distraught.
Dr. DeRadd is left to wonder what will become of herself in the days and weeks to come.
-Part 5-
"A Time to Forget"
March 6
Dr. Kerry Weaver ambles down the hall toward Robin's room, not quite sure why she wants to see her. She slows as she reaches the open door, and then knocks.
Robin looks over and smiles, "Kerry! Hey!"
Weaver is surprised to see her in such high spirits, "Hi! You're going home, I see."
"Yeah," she sighs, "and, uh, I wanted to talk to you before I left."
"Okay," Kerry says.
Robin clears her throat and tells her, "I, uh...wanted to see what my schedule is for next week."
Dumbfounded, Kerry hesitates. "Well, you're not working at all next week."
"Why not?"
"You need time to rest and get your strength back," she explains.
"I'm fine, Kerry," Robin smiles, "I'm fine."
Kerry can see her frail state—mentally and physically. She doesn't buy it for a second, and she talks to her in a soft tone. "Look, Robin...working is not an option to you right now. You are taking some time off, and if you don't like it...tough."
"Kerry, please," she begs, "I'm not ready to throw in the towel yet, okay? I can't sit at home and self-destruct."
"You can't treat a diabetic patient in a trauma without self-destructing either," she says quickly.
Robin knows that she's right and gets emotional, "God, what am I gonna do, Kerry? I don't know what to do."
After a long silence, Weaver offers, "Come back in a few days and we'll discuss it then... Meanwhile, keep seeing Dr. DeRadd. We'll be basing our decision on what he thinks."
Robin wipes her eyes and says softly, "Thank you, Kerry."
She grins and nods, as if to say, "You're welcome," and slowly leaves. After Weaver disappears, Robin stands alone—thinking about what to do next. She clears her throat again and takes a long look around the room, loathing it in a way. One last moment passes and she picks up her backpack, which Susan brought to her––stuffed with clothes, a toothbrush, and things she might need. She leaves with a heavy sigh, closing the door behind her.
-Part 6-
"Things Not Seen"
March 12
Drs. Romano, Weaver, and Shepherd sit in a conference room, ready to discuss Shepherd's return to work. She sits on the opposite side of the table from Kerry and Robert—who are being unusually quiet; her elbows propped up on the armrests of her chair and her fingers laced together. She raises her eyebrows and then asks, "So, uh...what's the word?"
Kerry hesitates before saying anything. "Well..." she begins, "after talking with Dr. DeRadd, we feel that these past few weeks have taken a toll on your mental health and that you wouldn't be able to handle the weight and stress of coming back to work so soon..."
Robin has a feeling that bad news is on the way, and she takes an angry, deep breath.
"We feel that you need to take some time off...so, starting today, you are now on an extended leave-of-absence."
Taken aback by this, Robin stares at Kerry with a stone-cold gaze. "How long?"
"Since you've already been off for a week...you'll take another three weeks. A month altogether," Kerry sighs.
Robin has a strange grin on her face—in disbelief. "What'll I do about money?"
"It's a paid leave," Weaver tells her.
Robin nods her head slowly, and both Robert and Kerry can see that she's not happy. "Kerry...please. This is all I have."
"We know how difficult this must be for you—"
"Do you?" she interrupts. "Because I don't think you do. You don't know what it's like havin' to watch the clock all day; havin' to stab myself with a needle every time I eat a damn meal. I don't wanna hear anyone say that they know what it's like...because they don't."
Kerry takes a moment, letting the awkward silence drag on. "Are you gonna be okay with this?" she asks with caution.
"Well, that goes without saying, now doesn't it?" Robin says flatly, staring at Kerry, then Robert. She looks down at the desk and says slowly, emphasizing every word, "This is all I have... My friends... and my job." Then, she glances back at the two of them again.
"We're so sorry, Robin," Kerry tells her softly.
Robin's eyes are heavy with anger as she says, "Thanks..." and then stands, "thanks for nothing." She moves to the door and starts to leave.
Romano calls out to her, "Robin..."
"See ya in three weeks," she shouts as the door closes behind her.
The two doctors sit in silence, until Romano chimes in, "Is it me, or do we piss off more people than telemarketers?"
The elevator doors to the ER slide open, and Robin saunters out and into the main hallway.
Seeing her approaching the front desk, Carter and Pratt smile. Carter starts to say something, but Robin interrupts him. "Don't even say it..."
They get confused when she heads straight for the ambulance bay doors. "Where ya goin'?" Pratt asks.
She stops and turns to face them, "Home, to sit on my ass and mope around for three weeks."
Carter chuckles, "Why?"
"Because they're making me," she says bluntly. "They think I'm 'unstable'," she says, making quotations in the air.
"Sorry," Carter smiles sympathetically.
Pratt adds, "Come by and visit us."
"Will do," she grins, and she moves to the doors again. "I'll have to, anyway, to get my paychecks."
The men stand behind the desk, wishing that none of this had ever happened to her. Suddenly, Pratt grabs a chart and says, "She gets sick, gets off for four weeks, and she gets paid? Damn, man, she's got it good!"
He walks away without another word, and Carter shouts, "I don't think she sees it like that, Pratt."
Robin walks through the ambulance bay, freezing—having never taken her black winter coat out of her locker before she left. She doesn't want to go back inside, so she keeps walking. Her face is glum as she turns the corner, heading for the El. Her world has become gray, and she has no idea what her mind will put her through in the coming weeks.