Fifteen more minutes until the department meeting is over. Fifteen more minutes until I can spit out this piece of gum that has turned rather gummy and completely tasteless. Breathe, Summer. It is just fifteen more minutes.

My hands are clammy, and I feel like everyone has been able to hear me chewing this piece of gum for the last forty-five minutes. I meant to spit it out into the wrapper before the meeting started, but I got distracted by my sweet co-worker Jenny, and then the meeting started, and I didn't want to spit my gum out with everyone in here. And now it would be weird to spit it out now so I just have to wait until I can either get back to my desk or escape to the bathroom.

I am thankful I am wearing a dark sweater over my blouse today, so no one will be able to see the sweat stains that are likely visible on my shirt. I hate these meetings. There are too many people crammed into a small room with practically no elbow room between us, and we are expected to actively pay attention the entire time.

Normally, I can pay attention, but I forgot to take my anti-anxiety medication yesterday, so now I am an anxious, sweaty mess for literally no reason. I take a few inconspicuous deep breaths and wipe my hands on my pants. There is no danger here. My co-workers like me; at least I think they like me. My boss seems pleased with my work recently and even complimented me on my rapid but thorough documentation last week.

Breathe. Ten more minutes. Write down the words you are hearing. Pretend that you are fine. Write down the upcoming evaluation dates and when new student researchers will be shadowing us for the day. Write down the changes to the documentation system. Five more minutes. Breathe. Focus on the words you are hearing and write them down. Two more minutes. Breathe.

Done.

Even though I desperately wanted to sprint out of this room, I waited until at least three other people had left first. I can't seem too eager to leave, and I don't want to seem like I am lingering unnecessarily, so I always leave when about half of the others have left. I plastered a soft smile on my face and gathered my papers, standing up. I slowly made my way over to my desk and grabbed a tissue to spit this horrible piece of gum out. I grabbed another tissue and fake blew my nose, so no one would question it when I walked over to the trash can to throw away my tissues.

I stuck my hand under the hand sanitizer dispenser to wipe my hands clean, so no one would think I was gross for not sanitizing my hands after blowing my nose. I made it back over to my desk and gracefully sat down, crossing my ankles as I pulled myself toward my computer. I had four more patient files I needed to finish before I could go home for the day. At least today is Friday, and I can rest over the weekend.

Patient One is a ten-year-old girl who was recently diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a heart condition that causes blood to flow backward into the mitral valve of the heart. My job as her genetic counselor is to help her cope and learn to deal with the new diagnosis. I uploaded my notes from today's appointment:

Patient appeared relaxed and comfortable during the appointment. Patient reported frequent dizzy spells since the last appointment. Mother says, "She often has to take breaks when walking up the stairs because she feels out of breath."

New medication was started twelve days ago and does not seem to be helping yet. Encouraged the family to be patient and give it more time before discussing other treatment options. Follow-up scheduled for six weeks.

I added her new medications to her list before sending a quick message to her mother through our patient portal, saying I was happy to see them today and that if she ever has any questions, she can message me here.

I repeated the process for my remaining three patients, also sending quick messages to their parents or guardians. While documentation is not my favorite part of my job, it is critical to provide accurate descriptions of the appointments for each patient's team of medical professionals to collaborate, creating the quality medical care I wish I could have had when I was a child.

I have had my fair share of horrible doctors, and my experiences as a patient were the biggest factor in deciding to become a pediatric genetic counselor. I wanted to make sure my future patients always felt supported and heard, and that their families felt educated and included in the medical treatment process for their loved ones.

"You up for heading to Crane's for drinks tonight, Summer?" Jenny asked me, leaning on my desk.

Jenny recently joined the team as a genetic counselor assistant, but I enjoy her presence. She is always ready to lend a helping hand and doesn't complain, even though she primarily does documentation and coordination of care for the patients on our rotation. Plus, she is easygoing, and even though she is a few years younger than I am, I can see us becoming friends at some point. Work friends, for sure.

"Summer?" she asked again, and I realized I hadn't responded. I fought the heat that pricked the back of my neck and made sure I had a smile on my face when I finally replied.

"Thank you for the offer, but I am feeling quite tired tonight. I don't think I will be able to make it. Rain check?"

"You always say you are tired. Please just come with me? This is the fourth week in a row that you have turned me down."

Had it really been four weeks since I have continued to turn her down? I don't want her to think I can't have fun and relax some, but I really just want to change into pajamas and read a book until I turn the lights off at ten.

"Plleeeaasssee?"

Despite my better judgment and my steadily increasing anxiety, "I would love to."

"Yay! I can swing by your apartment around 8 if that works? Wear something fun!"

"Sure. That sounds great," I smiled.

Wear something fun? I had no idea what that meant. I would just ask my roommate, Kay, to help me pick something out. Crane's is a pretty casual bar, so I don't have to dress up, and I didn't want to wear my professional clothes for sure. Thankfully, I had three hours until Jenny would pick me up.

I logged out of my computer and turned it off. Gathering my papers, lunch bag, purse, and keys, I started to make my way out of the hospital. But I noticed that my pocket felt empty and realized that I hadn't grabbed my phone, so I rushed back to my desk, grateful that my phone was still sitting there and no one else noticed that I hadn't grabbed it the first time. I took a deep breath and plastered that fake relaxed 'I definitely don't have crippling anxiety' kind of smile onto my face and left the hospital. For real this time.

Kay helped me choose a pair of dark jeans with a pretty and flowy peach blouse and a pair of tan-heeled sandals to wear. I did my makeup naturally and was going to do my hair, but it was determined to do its own thing tonight, so I let the auburn wavy curls rest on my shoulders, pulling just a few pieces out of my face.

Not too tight. You always pull your hair back too tight. Fluff it up some!

My mom's voice echoed in my head as I waited for Jenny's car to come into view. I love my mom dearly, and I am so incredibly thankful that we have such a close relationship, but she almost always has something to say about my appearance. It isn't necessarily negative, but it also isn't exactly positive. I was grateful for the coolness of the evening air; it helped to calm my racing heart and still my anxious thoughts.

Jenny's car pulled up in front of my apartment complex, and I stepped out from under the eave. She greeted me with a wave, and I texted Kay to let her know that Jenny was there. She texted me back with, 'Have fun and be safe!'

I smiled at Kay's text and got into Jenny's car. The smell of her perfume was almost too overpowering for the small space, but I didn't want to say anything, so I kept quiet, letting Jenny rant about her week and her current on-and-off-again boyfriend. Apparently, they are off right now, but she is hoping they get back together tomorrow or sometime. I don't know, I wasn't really listening. I was more focused on steadying my breathing.

Bars are not exactly in my comfort zone, and I kind of hate them, but I want to have a friend at work, so if that means pushing myself to step outside of my little box, I will do it. It is just for a few hours, and then I can Uber back to the apartment or call Kay if Jenny doesn't want to leave when I do or wants to leave with a...replacement for her boyfriend.

Jenny expertly parallel parks, not even hesitating to slide into the spot. I wish I could park like that, but street parking still makes me nervous. I don't want people to think I am incompetent and a bad driver, so I typically drive around until I can find a spot I can just pull into. Jenny excitedly pulls me into the slightly crowded bar, leading me straight to the counter.

"What do you want to drink? My treat since I dragged you here," Jenny said, showing the bartender her ID.

"Just a water is fine," I replied.

"Really? A water? We come to Crane's, and you just want water?"

I know she didn't mean it the way it sounded, but I keep a smile on my face. "I don't drink, Jenny. Plus, if you drink, then I need to be sober to drive your car back to your apartment."

"Can I have a martini and some water for her?" Jenny asked the bartender, who smiled and started making her drink.

"Do you really not drink?" Jenny questioned, a slight hint of amusement in her tone.

"Nope. I never have, and I don't plan to start now."

"Why?"

I literally can't without it interacting with my medications. Or the fact that I have so many other things going on that I don't need to deal with the side effects of alcohol.

"Alcoholism runs in my family. I can't be an alcoholic if I don't drink," I smiled. That reason is usually socially acceptable, and it seemed good enough for Jenny too.

The bartender handed me my water with a respectful smile, and Jenny paid for her drink. I took a sip of my cold water, feeling it travel all the way down. Drinking cold water is one of the best things I can do for myself when I am feeling anxious.

"OH MY GOSH! Jenny, is that you!?!" A woman's voice shrieked with excitement.

"Taylor! Hi!" Jenny matched her excited tone, and I fought the desire to roll my eyes.

"Come on, I so need to introduce you to this guy who is hanging out with us. He is soooo your type!" the woman said, pulling Jenny away from me and into the crowd before they both disappeared into the sea of bodies. Well, crap. I am literally only here because Jenny asked me to come. It's fine. But I am definitely moving from this seat. Too many people have already popped my security bubble, and I need a little space. Thankfully, I spotted an unoccupied booth in the corner.

Wasting no more time, I swiftly made my way into the booth. I chose the seat closest to the window, giving me an adequate view of the bar. I spread my stuff across the bench I was sitting on, hoping to discourage others from trying to join me.

I sent Jenny a text to tell her where I was sitting—not that she was going to see it, but it was the right thing to do. With some space between me and the other patrons, I allowed myself to relax a little. Even though I would prefer a coffee shop to a bar, this isn't completely unpleasant. They were playing decent music overhead, and it wasn't as crowded as I thought it might be.

I let out a sigh, letting my thoughts drift back to my patients. I need to collaborate with the rheumatology department on Monday for a new consultation, and I need to schedule a follow-up with my neurologist to discuss my migraines again. Before I forgot, I made sure to write them down in the notes folder on my phone. I absentmindedly took a sip of my water, writing down some more reminders for me to do later.

"Hey, beautiful. Are you by yourself?" A voice asked as a body slid into the bench across from me.

I looked up from my phone, trying to keep my face neutral. I quickly weighed my options; I could leave or entertain this for a bit. It is just one guy; what harm can come from a few minutes of socialization?

"Thank you. And my friend just went to get a refill, so she will be back soon," I smiled at the man. He looked to be around my age, and I guess most people would consider him attractive, but I am not interested in the type of guys that hang around bars. Hopefully, Jenny will come to find me soon.

"Well, I don't see your friend right now, so maybe my friends can help keep you company?" He said, his eyes roaming my face before dropping down to the small v-neckline of my blouse. I felt the urge to pull my shirt up more, even though I knew nothing was showing anyway.

"That's okay; I am good to just wait for my friend," I politely declined with a smile, and he winked but stood up and left my booth. I breathed a sigh of relief and took a long sip of my water. A few minutes later, he came back with two of his friends in tow, and I tensed, feeling my heart speed up.

"You are too pretty to be by yourself tonight, sweetheart," the man said as his friend slid in next to me and he resumed his position across from me.

The man next to me threw his arm over my shoulders, and I cringed at the gesture before picking his arm up and moving it off me.

"I told you I was fine. I am just waiting on my friend," I said, scooting as far as possible away from the man next to me. Warning bells were going off in my head, but I had nowhere to go. I was trapped. I don't like feeling trapped.