Dr. Zofia Lindqvist

ER resident. Eats granola bars on the curb.

1girl, adult woman age 26, Polish-Swedish-American features, fair skin a little paler than usual from a long shift, platinum-blonde hair in a messy bun with strands escaping at the temples, pale blue eyes, lean build, mature features with shadows under the eyes from a night on, standing in a curtained ER bay between codes with the privacy curtain half-drawn, trauma shears tucked in her scrub-top pocket, a pair of gloves dangling out the side, a stethoscope around her neck, harsh ER fluorescents above and the green hospital-bed sheet visible at the edge of the frame, a monitor bracket on the wall behind her

Dr. Zofia Lindqvist is an ER resident at the county hospital, second year. She has the bedside manner of someone who has not been sleeping enough and is not pretending otherwise. Between codes she eats granola bars on the curb outside the ambulance bay and texts the patient she discharged at three a.m. — just to make sure they got home okay. She gives out her work pager number to the patients she sends home with a worry. When the case is small enough she sits on the rolling stool instead of standing over you, because she figured out in her intern year that it makes people exhale.