Chapter Text
Sienna Monroe loved her job. Well, “love” is a strong word. She liked her job. Being an interpreter was a pretty good gig, especially at a hospital as notorious as PTMC. Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center didn’t see the most deaf and hard of hearing patients, but it saw enough to employ five interpreters. Sienna was one of the newer employees, working for PTMC for a little less than a year. It felt longer, though, in the grand scheme of things.
Zoning back in, I see Keegan coming down the hall from the elevators. He gives me a small smile as he sidles up to the desk opposite mine. The interpreters office is small, but has enough room for the two interpreters on shift during the day. They rotated nights, which was a nice change for some.
“So, a little birdie told me you have a lunch date today?” Keegan asks with a smirk, leaning over the divider of the desks. I smile, pushing my glasses up slightly.
“I wouldn’t say a date, really, just gonna grab a sandwich with Santos before she gets dragged back to Hell,” I say, but I can’t help using their favorite term for the busiest department. The Emergency Department at PTMC was known to be popping at any given time of day, so the fact that Trinity was liked enough to be able to disappear for a quick cafeteria run was a miracle. I know she’s a favorite, even if Dr. Robby would never admit it.
I like the ED, like the ebb and flow of always having something to do. There were days when I was called down multiple times, but also times when I could just hang out and watch the doctors and nurses do their work. It was impressive to watch, to say the least. And Santos, well, she was about the closest thing to a friend I have. Whitaker came as a new addition, which was fine with her.
“If you think about it, will you grab me a coffee, then?” Keegan pulls me back into the moment, and I give him a small smile.
“Course, as long as you take the next Peds consult. Last one nearly threw up on me.” I say with a shudder, remembering the little girl who very nearly puked on my shoes that morning. Keegan lets out a groan, then chuckles.
“Fine, caffeine is worth it, I suppose.” he’s about to continue, but my pager goes off. They both glance down at it on the desk, seeing the department code. Keegan looks up at me, then rolls his eyes when he sees my grin. “Alright, go hang out with your friends without me.” he jabs, leaning back in his chair as I rise, pocketing the pager and shrugging off my cardigan. I give him a small squeeze on the shoulder, heading towards the open office door.
“Let me know how that Peds case goes, Keegs! I’m sure it will be so, so fun.” I laugh as I say it, walking down the hall to the elevator.
I don’t have to turn around to see him flipping me off.
~
As usual, the ED is bustling today. I step from the elevator, scanning the stations for familiar faces. I spot Santos quickly, sitting at one of the charting stations, most likely trying to catch up before the end of shift. Making my way over, I stand behind her shoulder and wait a solid minute. She doesn’t notice. I poke her in the side and Santos jumps, whipping around to berate me, until her anger fades and she smiles.
“Jesus, Sienna, don’t do that! I’m not expecting an ambush every time I call for an interpreter.” she chastises playfully, but I just smirk.
“Well, if you want the consult, you gotta pay the price. I don’t make the rules.” I shrug as Santos signs out of the computer and starts toward south 14. Santos briefs me on the case thus far as we walk, and momentarily, she’s pulling back to the curtain to greet the patient.
“Hello, ma’am, this is one of our interpreters, Sienna. She’ll be assisting us today.” Trinity gestures to me and I begin to introduce myself and translate Trinity’s words. The patient smiles, obviously relieved to finally have someone to communicate with.
This is a common case for the deaf and hearing impaired, in my experience. There is a large population that can only communicate with each other, which is extremely hard to deal with when also in pain. That’s one reason why I chose this profession. I know all too well the challenges that sign-only people experience, so if I can help, I will.
We get to work, helping the patient heal.
~
As we step out of south 14, Trinity turns to me.
“Thanks for the consult, once again. You wanna grab a bite now?” she asks, and I check my watch. Just after 4pm, meaning we have about four hours left on shift. I nod, turning towards the elevator. Just as we’re about to make our escape, a loud voice calls out from the ED.
“Miss Monroe, I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t steal my residents during a rush!” Dr. Robby calls, making his way towards us. “And Santos, if you need a break, maybe you can catch up on your charts?” His voice is serious, but his eyes are bright. Santos groans next to me.
“I just want to take 5 minutes and grab something to eat. Please. I’ve been charting all day.” she almost whines, which I stifle a laugh at. I turn to Robby, flashing my best doe eyes.
“Come on, Dr. Robby. Let me steal her away for one sandwich, a shitty cup of coffee, and I’ll bring her back refreshed and ready to finish the day.” My words drip with sugar, hoping he’ll agree. He looks between the two of us, clearly not impressed, but a smile is growing on his face.
“I will let her go, on one condition.” he says, holding up a finger as we start to celebrate, “you have to bring me back a shitty coffee. It’s been a busy day and our breakroom is lacking.”
“Of course. Anything specific or does it just have to be bad?” I cut Trinity off before she can snark back at him. He’s all smiles now, pondering my question.
“Surprise me. And don’t make a habit of this, you two.” he says, pointing at us. We scurry off before he can say anything else, giggling as the elevator doors close behind us.
We gossip lightly as we walk through the halls, entering the cafeteria in record time. I grab a sandwich from the pre-packaged cooler, while Trinity finds an energy drink and a coffee for Robby.
Finding us a table, I sit and tear into the sandwich. It’s the first real food I’ve had today, so I’m starved to say the least. Trinity sits and sips her drink, taking in the other doctors and nurses around us.
“Do you have plans this weekend? I was supposed to go out with Garcia, but she has some family thing. Maybe we could hit the bar?” Santos asks, but I can feel the curl of disdain in my stomach. I swallow the bite I’m chewing before I respond.
“I’m back to nights starting Friday. Working most of the weekend, though. Mia had to take some time off for a funeral, so I’m stuck here. But you should go out! Take Whitaker, lord knows he needs something fun to do.” I give her my best ‘I’m sorry’ smile, but she shrugs.
“Hey, I’m just sad you’re stuck here with the night owls. Ellis is cool, but everybody else kinda scares me.” she shudders, but I just laugh.
“They’re not that bad, you know. They just prefer a different kind of crazy.” I say, taking the last bite of my sandwich. Santos shrugs, taking another sip.
“I think we’re all crazy, working in a place like this.”
She’s probably right, but I’m not gonna tell her that.
~
After we part ways, Trinity back to the ED, me back up to the interpreters office, I find myself thinking.
Night shift isn’t so bad. Usually, I can catch up on my podcasts and read more, since there are typically less patients for me to translate for. It gives me more time to think and plan, but that isn’t always the best. When I have too much time in my head, I get a little stir crazy.
Still, it will be a change of pace, anyway. I haven’t had a night shift in a while, and its always nice to change up the schedule.
It will at least give me more people to talk to. Hopefully.