In a blink the reflection returned to normal and I was left, mouth ajar in shock and fear with the poor woman staring at me with concern. For a second she looked at me like I was some kind of weirdo having a staring contest with her, but then her face turned from confusion to concern.

"Are you okay? You look terrible!" she exclaimed, hands still dripping from being washed. "Do you want me to go get some help or call someone?"

I took a deep breath and swallowed the gathering saliva that always rose when I felt like I might have to vomit. The fear in the pit of my chest was back and worse than when I had seen my own incorrect reflection that morning. I was having trouble breaking eye contact with her reflection in the mirror, I kept expecting it to change again or do something else to confirm that I was seeing strange things. With a lot of trepidation, I peeled my eyes away from the mirror and focused on the woman dripping water all over the floor between us.

"I'm fine," I managed to sputter out after a long, awkward pause. My voice sounded higher pitched than normal and definitely more than a little panicked. "Just having one of those days." I tried to laugh to improve the lie, but by the unconvinced expression on her face it did not help a single bit.

"One of what days?" she pressed and went to put a hand on my shoulder, then realized they were still soaking and quickly ripped a paper towel from the dispenser and dried them before gently laying her hand on me.

"Oh you know," I said with another unconvincing laugh, "too little sleep, too much stress at work, maybe a cold or something coming on. I'll be fine, just a little spaced out, maybe should go back to my desk and sit down and I'll feel better."

The woman hummed under her breath and nodded, but it was not the nod of someone who was believing a word being said. She was gently guiding me towards the bathroom door, I presumed to sit me down and help me recover from whatever was happening.

"I didn't wash my hands yet," I said, pulling away from her grip long and turning on the water at the nearest sink.

I kept my head down, intentionally not looking into the mirror as I washed and dried my hands. I didn't know what my reaction would be if I saw anything else out of place, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I would end up having an ambulance called on me. There was a nagging thought in the back of my mind that maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea, clearly there was something seriously wrong. Hands clean and dry, she returned her hand to my shoulder and put the other on the same arm and guided me out of the bathroom and towards the nearest conference room. She knocked and listened at the door, finding it unoccupied she opened the door and led me to a chair by the door.

"Who's your manager?" she asked while pulling her phone from her slacks pocket.

"No really, it's okay," I argued, "I don't want to use a sick day on this when I'm sure I can get through the day and probably feel better after some sleep tonight. I don't really have all that many left."

Truth was I didn't think I had any left at all. My dad had a heart attack at the start of the year and while it was touch and go I had drained all my saved leave and sick days being by his side just in case the worst happened. Otherwise, even though I was often pretty stubborn about taking sick time off and thinking I could just power through, I think this was one of those scenarios where I would have readily agreed to time off if I had any left.

The woman shook her head and gave me a look not unlike a teacher about to scold me for talking back. "Nope, not going to work for me, I don't care if you have leave or not, I'm a payroll manager, I can manifest a sick day for you if you need." Her expression softened a bit and she turned her head slightly to the side. "Now, please give me your name and your manager's name."

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"Sophia Baker and my manager is Rick Stevens," I conceded with a sigh. "I'm part of the accounting division."

With a wordless smile she quickly swiped through her phone and then brought it up to her ear and waited as the ringtone chimed in her ear.

"Mr. Stevens?" she asked as soon as a voice came on the other end. "Wonderful, this is Amelia Fredricks, payroll manager, and I came across your employee, Ms. Baker, looking very ill in the restroom on the fifth floor."

She gave me another smile and a look of encouragement. I realized I was shaking slightly and sweating far too much for the temperature of the room. I started to think that maybe I actually was getting sick and my body was just reacting in a strange way or maybe I was about to be seriously ill and this was a symptom beginning. That second option made me feel even more afraid, I had seen enough terrifying medical show episodes to know hallucination seemed to be always tied to an awful disease.

"Yes, I am going to make sure she's provided a sick day for the rest of the day and at least another for tomorrow to ensure she can get in to see a doctor." The payroll manager's face turned into a frown as my manager said something quickly and unintelligible on the other end of the line. "Mr. Stevers, with all due respect, I don't particularly care at this point in time how urgently you need all of your staff to be working. I think HR would have something to say about forcing a clearly ill employee to work themselves through a possible medical emergency instead of seeking help. If you insist though, I will take this up with the head of HR and explain the situation so they can make the determination."

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, then a quick gruff word and the call ended.

"Taken care of," she chirped, "is there someone I can call to come help you? Maybe a friend or family member?"

My mind was foggy and it took a moment to process her question. Most of my friends lived in other cities, the one close by worked nights as a nurse so calling her during the day, even for a possible emergency would make me feel very guilty. She would come with no hesitation and make sure I was taken care of, but I didn't like the idea of putting more work on her when she already worked so hard for so many hours.

"Umm…" I said after thinking for a moment if I had any other options. "Could we just get Carl to walk me out?"

"Carl the security guard?" she verified.

"Yeah, please, I think once I get out in some fresh air I can take it from there."

With a nod, she pulled up her phone again and quickly dialed another number. "Hi, security booth? Yes, this is Ms. Fredricks, could I please get Carl up to floor 5 outside conference room six for a friendly escort?" She paused and gave the person on the other end a moment to answer while she cast me a reassuring smile. "Wonderful, thank you, tell him we're waiting for him in the room."

After just a few minutes, Carl appeared, his face filling with concern when he saw me still shivering and pale in the chair.

"Thanks for coming up so quickly, Carl," Ms. Fredricks said and motioned towards me. "Ms. Baker here is not feeling very well and I would like to task you with escorting her and making sure she makes her way to a nearby emergency room and then home safely."

"No really, that's not necessary," I stammered. "I think I will be just fine, really."

Not only did I already have my fill for the next several years of sitting around in the hospital from keeping my dad company, but I really did not like the idea of paying for the insurance co-payments nor the idea of where the rabbit hole of telling a medical professional that I was hallucinating. At best I was just stressed and overworked, at worst I was going to a very specialized hospital involuntarily for a while. I hated that the worst option didn't currently sound all that far-fetched to me at that moment.

.

"I think to cover our bases here and certainly our liability to our employees, I must insist that you go," she said firmly, in the no nonsense kind of way that managers used to convey that they were not debating and it was not a suggestion. "Have them send the co-pay feeds to the company, I'll make a note on your file for the reasons and that I am signing off on it. I'm going to ask you have a doctor write a note on the outcome and when you can be expected back to work so that we can plan any coverage your position might require and let your manager know."

"I guess…"

"Great," she said, not letting me get in any more protest, "Carl, if you would please make sure she gets there safely, you will be compensated if her hospital visit takes over your shift time."

"I'd do it for free," he said, offering a hand to help me up.

"I really do think I'll be fine," I protested again.

"You don't look fine," Carl gruffed, "you're in my hands now and I'm in charge of making sure you're okay. We're going to the hospital if I have to drag you there unwillingly."

I grumbled under my breath, but accepted his help standing and began to follow him on still shaky legs.

"No talking back," he said with a light laugh, "like I tell my kids: you don't have to like what I'm telling you to do now, but you'll thank me later."