medicine {h.s.}

CHAPTER TEN

november.

When Dr. Heidi Yamamoto speaks, the words come out clipped and rushed. "I don't have all the time in the world to stand here and introduce the speciality to you," she says to us, in that snappy manner I've quickly grown accustomed to. She doesn't necessarily sound mad. I would say she sounds more stressed or overwhelmed than anything else. Despite this observation, her countenance is the pinnacle of serenity. Brown eyes and arched eyebrows are serious and pensive, though still somewhat friendly. High cheekbones are rosy and she is even takes the time to smile at us. "You'll learn as you go," she assures us, waving her hands around as she talks, "and I promise you'll fall in love with the Gynie Gang, too."

Her heels click against the floor as she walks. An object in motion stays in motion, and Yamamoto obeys this law perfectly. Even at her brisk speed of walking, she continues to study the list of her patients for the day. "It's a busy day, today," she muses, her red lips pursed together. She's a very pretty woman, and well maintained, too. Red lipstick spread artfully across full lips, and her tanned features suggest that she is sun-kissed—if such a thing exists in Seattle. "Two patients are in labor presently, one is about to deliver, and we have two scheduled C-sections today. Who's ready?"

Immediately, five hands shoot up in the air.

The instantaneous response obviously pleases Yamamoto. Her lips spread into a wide smile as she continues on with her walk, resuming motion once more. Even if her dark blue scrubs hadn't identified her as an attending, the powerful walk would have. Squared shoulders are firmly set and she is walking with a speed that I've never seen anyone her height—shorter than me, though taller than five feet—achieve. "I am not the cool attending," she places air quotes around the words, "but I know how intern year works. We have a busy day today, so I am only offering this once: take five minutes and get a coffee. Labor is long and unpredictable. Go do whatever you need to do to get ready for that room because under no circumstances have you earned the right to be the bitchiest person in that room. Got it? Any takers?"

I scan the crowd of my fellow interns. Still not a coffee drinker myself, I opt to sit this one out. I can't speak on the behalf of everyone, but I know that Ruth and Monty send coffee back like its water; though, they both seem too nervous to be the first one to make the move. "I mean," Ruth hesitantly mumbles beside me, her eyes scanning around the group around us. "If you're offering...."

"I am." Yamamoto confirms once more, bowing her head deeply.

"Can I get you anything?" Ruth kindly offers, looking at our attending.

"Kind of you to offer," a genuine smile crosses Yamamoto's face as she studies Ruth. Ultimately, she shakes her head though, declining the offer, "I stock up every morning. I've already had two cups. Any more and I'll be off the fucking walls."

The semi-playful response warrants a smile from Ruth, who then quickly excuses herself; hurrying off to find the nearest cup of coffee. As a rule of thumb, nearly all hospitals are stocked with an abundance of coffee. Not only is this to serve the employees who suffer long and late nights, but also as a concession for the family and friends who are suffering long and late nights simultaneously. "I'm not offering again," Yamamoto warns, her voice firm. "I'm giving you five minutes."

TJ and Monty are the next to break. They leave at the same time, their footsteps quick to account for the moments lost. Once they turn down the hallway, only Styles and I are left standing beside Yamamoto. "Caffeinated?" She asks us, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. It's obvious that she puts a serious amount of time into her appearance. The intricate waves in her stylishly cut black hair is an indicator of that; as is the makeup that has been meticulously applied with a steady hand.