Jenny didn't show up to work yesterday or today. I tried texting her to check on her and she read my messages but never responded. Losing a patient is hard and this job isn't easy, so maybe she decided that it isn't for her. It's better for her to find that out now before she spends thousands of dollars on furthering her education. But still, I pitied her.

Pushing the thoughts of Jenny out of my head, I focused back on my current patient; a little four-year old boy who was enthusiastically crinkling the paper on the examination table. His mother sat off to the side, looking completely exhausted but watching her son with fondness, nonetheless.

"Hey kiddo!" I said cheerfully, and he paused his crinkling to look at me, his little face brightening at the sight of me, "How are you feeling today bud?"

He looked down at his hands, completely focused as he intently tried to make his fingers form the right motion to give me a thumbs up. He finally managed to get his little thumbs up, prompting a big smile to form on his face. Both his mother and I clapped for him and his smile grew even bigger. I am so glad that even after all of the challenges he has been through, he isn't afraid of me. I think it helps that I don't wear a white coat like the doctors who poke and prod him do.

I spun around in my wheeled stool and scooted closer to him, "Ready for me to listen to that heart of yours?"

He nodded excitedly and I placed the stethoscope on his small bare chest. The familiar lub-dub of his heartbeat filled my ears as my eyes traced the healing scar that now runs down his front. Still, I smiled, thankful that it seemed like his heart-surgery was a success. As per our usual tradition during our appointments, I flipped the stethoscope around and placed it over my own heart. While the little boy "listened" to my heart, I talked to his mother.

With a smile, I told her, "His heart sounds all good, momma. Unless there are additional concerns or new symptoms that arise later, I think you will be able to stop coming to see me."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Lane. You have been..." her voice caught in her throat and tears glistened in her eyes, "You have been amazing throughout this whole journey. You will never know how much I appreciate you."

I hung my stethoscope back around my neck and patted the boy's head, "It's my pleasure. Message me through the patient portal if you have any questions or concerns. The nurse will be back in shortly to check you out."

She nodded her head, and I stepped out of the room, feeling grateful for a positive appointment to end my day today. After the week I have had, I needed some positivity. My phone buzzed in my pocket as I sat back down at my desk, and I was surprised to see a missed call and a text from my sister, asking for me to call her when I could. I quickly responded and told her I would call her as soon as I got off work.

As I finished the remaining documentation and paperwork for the day, the office slowly quieted as my colleagues finished working for the day. I think it might have been quieter since Jenny wasn't here. I realized that it was the first Friday that Jenny was not here to ask me to go out to Crane's for drinks. I also realized that in the eight months I have worked here, not a single other person has ever offered to eat lunch with me, much less be willing to see me outside of work. Am I that unpleasant to be around?

I would like to think that I am easy to get along with, but I guess I could be wrong. I know I am the youngest on the team, but I like to think I am pretty good at my job and that my coworkers respect me. I am always one of the first to volunteer to help with something and I'm always on time.

I am quiet but I collaborate with my colleagues on patient cases relatively often and I think we get along pretty well with each other. But maybe they are just putting up with me. Maybe they just tolerate me enough to do their jobs because they don't actually like me. If they don't like me, do my patients even like me? They say they do but maybe they just say that to everyone. Maybe this isn't the right job for me. Maybe I don't deserve to be here. Maybe I should quit. Maybe I...

"Summer?"

I blinked and looked up at my boss who was standing by my desk, her arms loosely crossed over her chest. She looked down at me with concern on her face, and when her eyes flicked to my legs, I became immediately aware of the fact that I was rubbing my hands up and down my thighs. My heart was racing, and I hadn't realized I was almost panting because I was breathing so fast.

"Summer? Are you okay?" she asked cautiously, and I slowly nodded my head, taking some very large and intentional deep breaths.

"Yeah...I...just...need...some...water," I breathlessly said as I stood up from my chair which was a stupid decision because as soon as gravity started working on my body from a new position, my vision went black, and I felt myself falling.

After what felt like seconds but could have been minutes, I slowly peeked open my eyes only to immediately shut them again from the harshness of the light. The ground was hard beneath my back, and I could tell my feet had been elevated off the ground. The side of my arm was throbbing but at least my heart wasn't racing anymore.

I took a few steadying breaths and opened my eyes again, this time to be met with the sight of a pale and panic-stricken boss.

"Summer!" she exclaimed as she crouched down beside me, "Are you okay!?!"

"Mhm," I mumbled and pushed myself up onto my elbows.

"Hey, hey, hey...easy. I don't want you to pass out again," my boss said, as she helped me into a sitting position.

"How long was I out?"

"About thirty seconds. I was getting ready to call for help."

I sighed and mumbled, "It's okay. I faint...sometimes."

"Why didn't I know about this?" she asked, her tone almost sounding accusatory.

"Because I don't announce it. It's not a big deal. I manage it..."

She interrupted me, "Summer. I need to know these things. If my clinicians are going to randomly faint, I need to know. What's your diagnosis?"

That is an intrusive question that I am pretty sure she is not allowed to ask but I want to keep my job, so I am going to answer it anyway.

"The main one is Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. The one that makes me faint is dysautonomia."

I have a whole laundry-list of diagnoses, but EDS is the diagnosis that all the others stem from, but she didn't need to know my entire medical history so I kept that information to myself.

Her face softened, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was qualified for this job, and I wanted it to be given to me based off my skills and experience, not because you were trying to check a box in your diversity column."

She was taken aback by my firm and slightly callous response almost as much as I was. I have never spoken that way to a boss, but I don't regret what I said. I have spent my life being shoved into boxes that I didn't want to be put in and for a long time I hated this broken messed-up body I was born into. And then I found my passion; helping kids who were going through similar situations that I went through my entire growing up, and when combined with a few near-death experiences, my outlook changed.

I looked at my boss and spoke again, my voice gaining a confidence that I didn't exactly feel, "I know you say that you aren't allowed to decide to hire someone based off if they have a disability or not but I also know from personal experience that checking that box on the application, can get your whole application discarded. I didn't tell you because you didn't need to know."

She smiled knowingly, "I understand. If it helps, I would have hired you either way and if you say that you can manage it, then I will have to trust you on it. But I also take the safety of the patients in this clinic very seriously. If you are feeling unwell, you need to tell me. How are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine. I just am going to move back to my chair and make a few phone calls. I will lock and close down the office when I am ready to leave. You can go home now."

"No. I am not leaving until you do, just in case you need me. I'll be in my office. Let me know when you decide to head out, okay?"

I nodded and she helped me into my chair, even though I told her it was unnecessary. She patted my shoulder and walked back to her office, leaving me alone. I looked down at my hands to find them shaking and I could feel my legs trembling; unfortunate common side effects of losing consciousness. I know I can't drive after a syncope (fainting) episode because it's unwise. I typically don't faint twice in a row, but I would rather not put that to the test, especially on the road.

The best thing I can do is just to sit and wait until I am feeling better, which normally takes about thirty minutes, but I almost always feel exhausted for the rest of the day. Thankfully, today was almost over.

So, I sat with my head laid on my arms until I felt the trembling in my legs subside. Only then did I gather my things, and when I stood up this time, I felt more normal. I poked my head into my boss' office and told her I was heading home. She told me to drive safely and that she would see me on Monday. I waved goodbye and started out to the parking lot.

Once I reached my car, I threw all my stuff onto the passenger seat, locked my doors and called my sister back. She answered on the second ring.

"Hey, Quinn. What's up?"

"Hey! I was just calling to see when you get off work. I can never remember your schedule."

"I just got out to my car."

"Okay, great! I am already at your apartment so I will just let myself in."

"Actually, would you mind coming to pick me up?"

She paused and concern laced her next words, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

I sighed, "I'm fine. I just fainted about forty-five minutes ago and still feel a little shaky. I don't think I should drive."

"I'm on my way. Where are you?"

I smiled and gave her the directions on how to get into the parking garage and what floor I was on. She said she would be there soon and after we both said 'love you' she hung up.

I watched her pull into the spot next to me and my heart swelled with joy as I got out to embrace her. I don't get to see my sisters very often anymore with them both being in college now and my work so every time I do get to see them is deeply cherished.

Quinn ushered me into her car, carefully placing my things in the backseat. Once we were both in and buckled, I started the conversation by asking how her junior year of college had started out. She quickly launched into telling me all about her classes, peers, and roommates while I listened, feeling grateful I got to see her today.

As I listened, I admired my baby sister who looks less like a baby every time I see her. Although she is a "real" adult now since she is twenty, I still consider her and Paige to be my little sisters. Quinn is slightly shorter than I am and has long blonde hair that she typically keeps pulled back in a ponytail or pulled up into a claw clip. She is beautiful and her newly gained confidence only enhances it. She is happy today and while she is already stressed from assignments, she also seems relaxed; like she has finally found her place and for that I am extremely thankful.

She expertly drives back to my apartment complex, following the directions on her GPS and I can't help but breathe out a sigh; relieved that she is a much better driver now than she was when she first started. Let's just say that the first year of her driving made me more than a little scared to get into a car with her.

She parked and in unison, we sighed, undid our seatbelts, and opened the car door at the same time, sending both of us into a fit of giggles. Gosh, I love my sister.