Free Subject to Change by Alessandra Thomas

handed me coffee and a protein bar, I passed off the feeling as hunger, but walking into Doctor O’Donnell’s office, it came surging back again. The same condescending half-smile was on her face, and she barely looked at me when the desk receptionist showed me into her office.
    “I’m glad you’re back, Miss Daly.”
    I wanted to say, “You are?” But instead I returned her tight smile and said, “Thank you,” making sure that my eyes met hers. I knew I needed to strike the right balance of brave and submissive if I was going to survive this for the rest of the semester.
    “I’ve been thinking about your first day with me ever since you left,” she said, still shuffling through papers.
    “You have?” My heart jumped. Maybe she felt badly about the way she had spoken to me. Maybe she wanted to change things, to let me speak to patients, reassure them. To do the stuff I had done with Theresa at the Rowland House.
    The stuff I was actually good at.
    “I want you to come with me on my pediatric oncology rounds today, Josephine. I think we had a bit of a misunderstanding about…how I do things here. Frankly. And I think that if you come with me, you’ll see where I’m coming from.”
    The gears in my brain whirred. This was exactly what I was supposed to want to be doing. Be excited, Joey. This is what you’re here for.
    But if I was supposed to be so excited, why was there a strange heat creeping up the back of my neck, and why was I suddenly so short of breath?
    I forced a smile, counted my breaths, forcing them to be slow, and waited while she gathered up her papers. By the time we were headed out of her office, I felt like I could breathe again, if only a little.
    Doctor O’Donnell made no conversation on the way up to the floor. I remembered how my mom, sister, brothers and I would walk up to the oncology ward to visit Dad every morning and every afternoon, before and after school. Those solemn walks framed my whole life for a year and a half. And now, with the look of this hospital so similar, I was beginning to realize they’d frame the rest of my life, too.
    A girl with long, shining black hair shot through with purple streaks and a messenger bag stuffed full got on next to us. Doctor O’Donnell pressed the button for the sixth floor, then looked at the girl expectantly.
    “Oh, that’s where I am, too,” she said with a soft smile. I glanced down at her bag. I could barely see the corner of a hardback picture book and the curled paper end of one of those birthday party noisemakers peeking out of the corner.
    Clearly, she wasn’t a doctor. She must have been some kid’s big sister, coming to cheer them up. No one brought picture books and toys to the adult oncology ward. I smiled back at her as we stepped off the elevator.
    Walking out into the hallway, I realized why the oncology ward should always be on a higher floor — sunlight. It flooded the halls and made the sterile environment seem just a bit warmer, even with the smell of the hospital cleaners and sight of the IV poles waiting at the nurses’ station flooding my senses.
    Even though the murals and sunlight made it different, this floor had enough in common with dad’s oncology unit that I started fighting for air again. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I repeated it over and over until I could control the dizziness.
    Our first stop was halfway down the first hallway. Doctor O’Donnell’s hand paused on the door handle as she turned to me.
    “Remember,” she said. “You’re here to observe only.”
    I nodded, willing the lump forming in my throat to stay back. I hadn’t even heard about this kid’s situation yet, and I was already starting to lose my shit. And I wanted to be a doctor. Get it together, Joey.
    Doctor O’Donnell gave me a tight smile. “We’re on rounds, so I won’t be talking much either. That’s for my med students.”
    Something in me got a little excited — I hadn’t known we’d be on rounds.