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Story By Little Sunshine, Canada
A Hospital Story Part 1- Julia has an accidnet.
Dr. Henry Morgan walked briskly down the hallway to the hospital ward where he worked. Henry had been a doctor for close to twenty years. His specialisation was psychiatry. He was a tall, handsome man in his late forties. He had been considered quite the heartthrob when he first began his residency at Toronto General. Then he had been a dashing young man of twenty-five; a committed, brilliant perfectionist. His keen mind, gentle hands and striking looks brought him much attention. More than one of the nurses had a crush on him in those years. But anyone who got to know him quickly learned that his true love was his work. He was a dedicated physician. He spent longer hours on the wards than almost anyone else. There was no room in that lifestyle for a wife, and he dated very little. Most often, the women he dated quickly realised that he loved his patients in a intense, focused, tender way. They could never compete with it. They would always come second. He was meticulous in his care of the patients. He loved them in the truest sense of the word – not in a sexual way, but with the understanding and compassion of a wise father.
Now he was older. His black hair had turned to salt-and-pepper gray, and there were deep lines in his face, brought on by years of stress. His dark eyes, however, still held the same intelligent gleam.
As Henry made his way to the ward, he thought about his patients. He had been attracted to psychiatry by the sheer challenge of it. What made people become suicidal, or manic, or alcoholic? And how could he make them well again? For the last 10 years, Henry had been the medical director of the young adult wing of the psychiatry department. His patients were over 18, under 30. Some of them were severely depressed. Some were in the midst of delusions. Others wasted away in some sort of self-imposed hunger strike. It was one of these ones that he thought of today.
Julia Quinn was a haunted-looking young thing, with pale skin and a mass of dark, rumpled hair. She had been brought to him dehydrated and emaciated, and strangely cheerful. Henry had been struck right away by the girl’s unusual demeanour. Many of the young people he worked with were sloppy and ill mannered. In his career he had been routinely sworn at, slapped and scratched by angry, out-of-control patients. This girl was different. He had been struck by her careful, polite manner. When he had asked her how she was feeling, she answered shyly and then said in a sweet voice, “And, Dr. Morgan, how are you?” Henry had been strangely touched by her simple question. From that moment on, Julia had become a bit of a favourite of his.
She had been on the ward now for two months. He had her on the regular course of antidepressants, zinc and calcium that they gave all the anorexics. She had been on gradually increasing calories as well. All accounts from the nurses were consistent with his impression: they found Julia sweet, cooperative and pleasant, although perhaps sometimes a little too anxious. She also seemed almost pathologically eager to please. She had gained very little weight, but it often took some time for patients to recover nutritionally. She seemed to be doing well emotionally, although sometimes Henry wondered if perhaps she was too shy to show any suffering.
Henry arrived at the ward and checked in at the nurses’ desk. Pat was on duty – a large, redheaded woman with a capable and comforting manner. Henry always felt safe when his patients were in her hands. She briefly filled him in on the patients. Chad was responding well to the antipsychotics, and appeared less delusional. Katy was still on close observation, but hadn’t tried to run last night. And little Julia had had a bit of an accident. One of Henry’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He felt worried and surprised. He pictured her bruised or cut, perhaps after fainting.
“What do you mean? Is she hurt?” he asked in a concerned tone.
“Oh, no, she just had an accident and wet her bed. I found her this morning trying to change the sheets all by herself, the poor little thing.”
A strange feeling rose in Henry’s chest. He knew how sensitive Julia was. She would be utterly humiliated by this incident.
“How did she react?” he asked Pat.
“Oh, she was upset, trembling just like a leaf. Well, I just told her not to worry, these things happen. We’re a hospital, there are no shortage of sheets. And she asked me not to tell anyone. But I did want to mention it to you, Dr. Morgan, because I thought you would want to know.”
Henry nodded and smiled. “I’ll go in and check on her. Is she all cleaned up?”
“Oh yes, we’ve got her in fresh pyjamas and I changed the bed. She’s just finished her breakfast and she’s on bedrest for an hour now.” The eating disordered patients were routinely put on bedrest after meals, to prevent them being tempted to purge or over-exercise. The girls hated the enmaked rest, but it was for their own safety. Most spent the hours reading or watching TV.
Henry made his rounds of the ward, visiting each of his young charges, inquiring about symptoms and adjusting medication.
When he got to Julia’s room, he found her sitting up in bed, sewing on a small cross-stitched picture. She looked up somewhat anxiously as he came into the room, but hid her fear with a winning smile.
“Good morning Dr. Morgan,” she said politely in her pretty voice.
“Hello Julia,” he said with a friendly smile. “How’s my girl?” He pulled up a chair, and took a seat next to her bed. He knew it always made her a little nervous to talk to him, but she always made an attempt to cooperate.
“I’m feeling alright… How are you?”
“I’m fine,” he said. He gave her a penetrating look. “I hear you had a rough night, lassie.”
At these words, her pale cheeks slowly turned pink with embarrassment. She looked away from him and stared down at her hands holding her needlework. She said nothing.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked gently.
There was a long pause, while she continued not to look at him. She then said softly, “Well, I woke up in the night and…” She trailed off miserably.
He waited patiently. “It’s alright, my dear, what happened?” He hated to embarrass her further, but he wanted to let her know that it was acceptable to talk about such problems here.
She resumed her explanation in a very quiet voice. “Well, I realised that I had wet the bed.” At these words, her cheeks turned even brighter pink, and she looked as thoroughly ashamed as it was possible for a young girl to be. Henry felt sympathy for her. His sympathy turned to concern as he realised the girl was beginning to tremble. She turned to him with eyes full of fear and regret.
“Dr. Morgan, I’m… I’m so sorry,” she said. Her face was so frightened that he felt the need to comfort her immediately.
“Now, now, it’s nothing to worry about, love.” He put a hand on her back, and drew her to him, putting his arms around her. “Good lord, you’re shaking, child.” His gentle touch and soft words brought immediate tears from her.
“Oh, my my my. Don’t cry lassie. These things happen. You’ve got nothing to be frightened of.” He pulled away and turned her face towards him.
“Look at me. Did you think I would be angry at you?”
She nodded tearfully.
“Of course not Julia. You’re in the hospital, child. You’re a very sick young lady, and sometimes when young girls are ill they wet the bed. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t worry about that one bit. Do you hear me?”
Julia’s trembling gradually subsided, and she appeared calmer. “Thank you,” she said shyly. She withdrew from his embrace and bravely regained her composure, although she still looked somewhat fearful.
“I know Julia. You try so hard to be good, you hate having anything happen that’s a bit unfortunate, even something that’s not under your control. Now Julia, I’m going to ask you a question and you must answer me honestly, dear. Did you take any pills?”
She looked at him silently.
“Any diuretics, laxatives, anything of that sort missy?”
She shook her head.
“Answer me, love, I want to hear you say it.”
“No Dr. Morgan. I promise I didn’t take any pills,” she said sincerely.
“Good girl,” he said with a warm smile. “We’re going to get you well, little one,” he promised. He gripped her in one last bear hug, and then left her room. He thought wryly that this girl felt more regret over a bedwetting accident than most patients did after assaulting someone. She was really a very sweet little thing.
He stopped by the nurses’ desk on his way back to the ward. “Pat, I’ve talked to Julia. She didn’t take anything. I think it was probably just a typical little accident. But keep me posted if she does it again, alright? Pat nodded.
For the rest of the day, Julia was in the back of his mind.
To Be Continued…
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