Day in the Life of a Doctor

Sitting in my office with my colleagues and boss, I attempt to act as average as possible. As average as a superhuman can at least. Working in the field of medicine, I have the opportunity to use my life-saving abilities to enhance the lives of everyone within the world. Each day, I miraculously save a patient on their death bed because of my superhuman abilities, but everyone working in the office believes I simply have marvelous education and physician knowledge that permits me to save everyone I touch. Honestly, I do not know how it works, but for it to work all I must do remains to touch the patient for three seconds. Any more or any less, my powers will not work and the patient will face immediate death. That remains why I sit in my current position. Why I cannot openly express the actions I have been partaking in. Why I must keep my abilities a secret. If I were to attempt to express my actions and their reasons, then I would face immediate termination and negative consequences, which is why I can never tell a soul.

“CODE BLUE, FOURTH FLOOR, ODE BLUE, FOURTH FLOOR!” the intercom shouts to all available physicians on near the room. Since Code Blue means the patient remains in critical condition and needs to receive immediate medical attention, I sprint to the room in the hope to project my powers onto the dying patient and save their life. As I enter the room the nurse asks, “Are you a doctor? Can you help?” Responding with a head nod, I rush to the bedside and take a look at the patient. I glance at the clock, then back to the patient, and back to the clock. Placing my hands on the patient’s heart and arm, I watch the clock pass three seconds and immediately release. Immediately, the patient comes out of critical condition and has an enhanced heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen levels. As the patient begins to wake, I glance at her chart and read the name, Holly Fitzpatrick. “Well hello there Holly, how are you feeling?” I ask as she becomes aware of her surroundings. Groggily and confused, Holly responds, “What happened?” Little did Holly know, she had experienced a fatal car accident and she remained as the only survivor. She had suffered severe brain damage and other orthopedic injuries, so her waking up so suddenly remained a shock for everyone. No one knew I had the power to save the girl. No one knew how she made it through. No one knew anything, engendering my coworkers to ask questions. 

This was not the first occurrence where I was involved in the miraculous saving of a patient near death. Everyone began to look at me and ask me what I did to bring the patient to life. Sitting there anxiously, I try to think quickly with assertiveness by saying, “First I checked her jdsjk that told me I had to sjdhf jdafh, engendering the result of waking her up.” To anyone without a medical degree what I stated sounded like complete gibberish, but to the room replete of physicians with a doctorate degree I stood as an educated hero. Surprisingly, I played the whole scenario off and everyone believed me, but one. The one guy standing in the back corner. Quietly, talking to no one, pondering life to himself, he stays behind after everyone exits the room. My heart rate accelerates before he has even said a word, but he has this confused, almost disgusted, look on his face. Jittering left and right, I open my mouth and say, “Is something wrong?” He doesn’t respond for three seconds, but then he says, “I’m Dr. Boehm, how did you save her life? How did you do that in a matter of seconds?” My stomach drops to the pit of my stomach. Lost for words, I stutter, “I umm...I...just told everyone how I saved her life.” Nervously, I begin to shake as I continue to wait for his response. Finally, he says, “You are telling me that in a matter of three seconds you saved the life of a dying patient? Holly wasn’t even supposed to make it through the night, and she happens to code-making her situation worse-but you miraculously save her in three seconds. I find that hard to believe.” Then he swiftly walks out of the room, as if he’s on a mission. With my heart beating rapidly, I sit down in fear. I’m unsure of what to do. Is he going to report the case? Will he report me? I’m in fear of the loss of my occupation and freedom. 

Hours pass and I face nothing happens. I haven’t seen or communicated with Dr. Boehm, I haven’t been called upon by my boss, and I feel as if I will face no repercussions. Continuing my day as normal, I complete my daily tasks. I do my patient rounds, fill out the charts, and use my powers on no one. Contemplating if I should ever use them again, I hear “CODE BLUE” over the intercom once again. Rushing to the room, I know I will have to use my powers to stop the death of the patient in the room. Unexpectedly, the only person in the room happened to be Dr. Boehm. He had set a trap. There was no patient. Approaching me he asks, “How did you save Holly Fitzpatrick?” In shock, I respond with a hastened voice, “I have superpowers. I can save any dying patient if I touch them for three seconds. I don’t know how and I don’t know why I just can!” Dr. Boehm’s face has no explanation; he was not expecting the answer I provided him with. As he takes a seat, Dr. Boehm sighs with confusion. After minutes pass, he finally responds by saying, “Why don’t you tell anyone?” In fear, I respond, “If I touch the patient for more than three seconds they die immediately. If anyone were to know, I would lose my ability to practice medicine because I have had patients die because of me, but within the past week, I understood why I killed them. I promise, no other patients have lost their lives due to me since I have come to an understanding with my abilities.” Shaking, I wait for him to respond at length, but instead, he says, “You know what I have to do,” and storms out the door, leaving me in the room crying.