New developments for Sybil and Branson – more to come. Thanks for the reviews and comments. Enjoy!

AGAINST ALL ODDS

Chapter 21 – My Name Is

Sybil's first week in Belfast had been a whirlwind initiation into the world of medical practice. She was thrown into the fray and had to rely on both her medical and nurses training to help the many patients she saw. She also met an entirely new staff of doctors and nurses.

Located near the university, the women's hospital was a small facility with only thirty beds, plus a small ward for women with difficult pregnancies. Its primary mission was to take care of outpatients who visited their dispensary and send doctors into the city's various neighborhoods to attend women in their homes. Affiliated with London's first hospital for women and the medical school where she finished her studies, the facility was entirely staffed by women doctors. Dr. McNeil knew the hospital's head, Dr. Baird, from Edinburgh, and he was delighted to recommend to her his prized pupil for an internship. For Sybil it was a rare opportunity to be in a medical environment that wasn't ruled by men.

Over the course of her stay she would rotate to get experience in the different services the hospital offered. She had yet to work with the small obstetrics ward, but would have the opportunity in the last week of her five-week stay. She began her first week by seeing patients in the dispensary. The women, and on occasion children, required a range of care. While the military hospital offered an invaluable exposure to the treatment of bodily injuries, nothing had prepared her to the ways that industrial work impacted the lives of women of all ages. Many suffered maladies caused by the abysmal conditions on their jobs—from difficulties in breathing caused by poor ventilation in the cotton mills to chemical burns from dyes in the tanneries. She noticed a number of mothers were now the sole providers of their families because their husbands had been killed or missing in the war. For the first time, she witnessed the devastating toll the four-year conflict had taken on the wives, mothers, and daughters left behind.

The hospital had three small rooms for visiting doctors off the kitchen in the rear. Sybil's room had a bed and stove that she used to heat the room and to make tea. Its windows overlooked a small garden where the cook grew vegetables and herbs. She had the option of cooking in her room or dining with the other staff in the nearby kitchen. The days had been long, so she was happy to sit down to a hearty meal with the other visiting doctors—a woman from Leeds and the other from Dublin. Both were friendly and Sybil enjoyed sharing stories about how they coped in the male dominated world of medicine.

While it would be a challenging month far from home, she had never felt freer. Somehow cutting her hair was an act of liberation, meaning she was no longer dependent on someone to help her with acts of grooming. Through her work she now earned a salary, enough to support herself, albeit modestly. Her parents had continued with their barrage of objections till she left England's shores. Thankfully Mary, Isobel, and Matthew defended her choice. She never meant to cause her parents worry or appear ungrateful for their generosity in giving her an upbringing without want. But she needed to make this journey both professionally, and more importantly (unbeknownst to them) personally.

During her second week Sybil made house calls with one of the staff doctors Emily Moore. Their appointments were spread across three neighborhoods, which meant that Sybil was able to get a sense of the lay of the city. It was good to be outside as the weather was warm, although on most days clouds filled the sky. She and Dr. Moore, one of the first woman doctors in Belfast, went from house to house—typically small two story row houses. Each doctor carried with her a bag filled with equipment and medicines that they dispensed to the patients; some required follow-up visits and others did not. Dr. Moore possessed a remarkable ability to talk with her patients to tease out the details of their ailments. Because they were both women, Sybil noticed the female patients seemed less fearful. This trust in turn facilitated acceptance of their medical advice. She was learning a lot.

On Thursday after they finished their rounds Sybil told Dr. Moore that she wanted to head off on her own and would see her the following day. Before she left London, Sybil had written to Anna asking her to find out Branson's address from Mr. Carson. Anna used the pretext that she and Mr. Bates wished to send him an invitation to their July wedding—which was in fact true. Sybil carried with her their letter to Branson. Once she found his home, her plan was to leave the letter and a note telling him that she wished to see him, and where to find her.

As she walked toward the neighborhoods in the south part of city, she asked various people to guide her in the direction of the address she had. As she moved through the various communities, she observed row upon row of houses that varied in size and width depending on the class status of the residents. It took about an hour, but she managed to find his street. Like the residents she had been visiting all week, the house was brick whose dark grey color came from the sooty air that blanketed the industrial city. It was located close to the city's periphery and she could glimpse a hint of the countryside at the end of the neighborhood several blocks away. Unlike some of the poorer parts of town that she and Dr. Moore had visited tending their patients, the area's streets and houses were well kept. Children played at the end of the block and a butcher shop sat on the corner. Its character was close to what she remembered Branson describing years ago as they sat in the car outside the gates of Downton.

Sybil rallied her courage and knocked on the door of #63.

"Hello miss can I help you?" said a young woman with a thick brogue. She had light brown hair and could not have been more than seventeen. She noticed Sybil's medical bag, "Oh good we've been waitin' for the doctor to come back for weeks now."

"I 'm not here to…" Sybil began telling the girl who she assumed to be Branson's sister. Surprised by the mistaken identity, she realized that perhaps she could help his mother, so she decided to play along. "Um, good afternoon, I'm here from the New Hospital for Women at the University."

"Please, come in. Yes, its my ma has been taken with sickness. We've ne'er had a lady doctor before."

Sybil walked into the house and Mary guided her to the front parlor, a bright room done up in pale green flowered wallpaper. As she looked around the room it had two chairs, a sofa, and a piano in the corner. She noticed a large photograph of a man, who must have been Branson's deceased father, hung above the piano surrounded by photographs of other family members. She knew this wasn't the house where Branson had grown up. With his salary in service he had been able to get them into a larger home in a better neighborhood closer to family and in a less congested part of the city.

She heard footsteps in the back and the sounds of playing children. "Just our little monsters." And then she yelled "Fiona, Maeve, Brian quiet down, doctor's visitin'." She heard the footsteps get louder and three little faces—twin girls and a little boy—popped into the doorway curious at who this new visitor might be. She observed that the twins had Branson's eyes and the same beguiling expression of wonder. "Go on this isn't a zoo," Mary shooed them off. The young woman turned back to her guest and said "Ah, dun' mind them haven't seen a lady doctor before either."

"Oh, my name is Sybil, Dr. Crawley," and she reached out her hand as she took off her glove.

"Mary Branson's my name. You're not from 'round here are ya?"

"No I'm from England, the North. Please to meet you. My older sister is named Mary."

"I'm the oldest 'round here. Well, oldest girl that is, save for my brother Tom whose out workin'. My mother's upstairs. She's been in bed these past six months or more, first the typhoid. Dr. Kincaid, says she may have a bad heart, but he hasn't been back here for a month now, so I'm right happy to see ya. You can leave your hat and coat down here."

Mary took Sybil upstairs to see her mother. The upper level had one room in the front and two small bedrooms in the back. She took her into one of the smaller rooms.

"Ma, it's the doctor come to see you," Mary introduced them, "And it's an English lady doctor no less."

"Good afternoon Mrs. Branson," Sybil greeted the woman as she looked around for a table upon which to place her bag. His mother was a small woman with the same light brown hair light of her daughter and piercing blue eyes of her son. She had a slight frame and had clearly lost a fair amount of weight due to her illness. "I am Dr. Crawley from the New Hospital for Women."

"Haven't heard a that one, but happy ta see you. Welcome to my home—trust my Mary was gracious to ya? Girl, go put on a pot o' water for the missus so she can take tea before she leaves," she said in voice that conveyed that while she was bedridden she still ran the household. "I reckon we haven't had a lady doctor 'round here, 'specially one so young. Guess we women are goin' in ta all kinds of new things nowadays."

"Yes we women doctors are a bit of a novelty-still, but they'll be more of us. Your daughter tells me you were very sick about six months ago, what has your doctor given you to take?"

"Mary show the doctor," and Mary picked up two bottles of various drafts. Sybil looked them over.

"Yes, thank you. If you don't mind I'd like to listen to your heart and lungs," she asked Mrs. Branson. Sybil retrieved her stethoscope from her bag. She sat on the edge of the bed and helped Mrs. Branson sit up. She listened to her heart and then from the back her lungs. She checked her pulse and felt the muscle tone on her arms and legs—she may be diminutive now, but clearly this had once been a sturdy woman. Sybil could tell from the power of her voice, that Branson's mother still had a lot of vitality in her. Then Sybil asked a series of questions about habits over the last few months, her diet, mobility, and mood.

Mrs. Branson told Sybil that with four young children about she hadn't the energy to do much. She depended upon her oldest daughter to help out. "Tis spring and I miss my garden out back—it's always pretty. Mary's so busy, she's no time for it. I'm sad it's gone all wild."

"My mother too loves her garden," Sybil replied as finished her physical examination.

With a heavy sigh she reached out to grab Sybil's arm and added "Me sons come back home after bein' in the army over in France. I thank god he wasn't killed or come back missin' a limb. He's a bright lad—he was in service, ya know a driver for lords and ladies. He came back home ta help me and the youngin's, but I want somethin' better for him than workin' in the shipyards."

"You're happy to have him back home?" Sybil asked hoping that Branson's return had given her some relief.

"Well, me and his late father sent him to school. I tell ya never in all my life have I seen someone eat and breathe books. He's a smart one, he's got'ta go out in to the world and do somethin'. Out'ta this place for sure, he can't stay. I need ta show him that I can get right and work again." Sybil could hear the pride in her voice as she spoke about her son.

"Well, I shall see what I can do," as she rummaged through her bag and pulled out a vial. "Take this in water once a day in the morning, it will give you more energy." Mary came back in the room. "Perfect you're here. You will both have to follow my directions. Mary I want you to help your mother get out of bed every day first for a half an hour, then an hour, making it longer every day. Eventually she is to walk around upstairs, as much as she can. Let her get some fresh air by a window if you can. Then she should try going downstairs in a couple of weeks. You'll have to get your mother moving again—this will help her heart to heal which may have been damaged from the high fever of the typhoid. But it is reparable if you follow this regime."

"Yes, Dr. Crawley," Mary said grateful for the positive news.

"Yes, doctor thank ya, you're the first one that checked all of me. Maybe its 'cause you too are a woman, ya know what ta look for. But I thank ya fur takin' the time," she smiled for the first time since Sybil had come into the room. She noticed how her lips turned up in the corner just like her son's smile—the one she'd seen so many times and sorely missed.

"You're welcome, I will try to stop by again next week to see how you are coming along if you don't mind."

"Not'at all. And please stay for tea with Mary, maybe next time I'll be joinin' ya."

"I'll count on that Mrs. Branson," Sybil replied shaking her hand. She was glad to see that her diagnosis had lifted his mother's spirits. She left the room and went back downstairs with Mary.

"You'll stay for tea then?" Mary asked. "I'm sure you're a busy doctor and all, but I don't get to see many folks now that I'm mostly home with ma and the little ones."

Sybil considered the likelihood of meeting Branson, especially since her intent was to leave the letter and not to make a house call. She would take a chance as Mary had been welcoming, "Um, of course I'd be delighted."

"Oh good, I'll be right back." And Mary went to the kitchen to make the tea. While she waited Sybil looked about the room. She took in the photograph on the wall. It must be his father she thought, something about the way the man held his head that reminded her of Branson.

She heard a little voice, "Why do you look at papa?" Brian asked her from the hallway.

"He has a very fine face," she responded.

"Looks like me," he said as he came closer and the two girls followed, "what d'ya got in that big bag."

"All sorts of medical equipment," she told the curious little boy, she remembered from Branson he would be around seven, the twins were a year younger.

"Like what?"

And she opened it and pulled out her stethoscope, "Like this. Do you know what it does?"

"No, can you show me?" he said and the twins nodded their heads.

"Now come here," and she put the ends in his ears. "Hold this to your chest. You all have to be very quiet" as the two girls came on either side of Sybil.

"What's that thumpin' sound?" he asked in awe.

"Its your heartbeat. You are listening to it pump the blood in and out."

"Real blood?" he asked looking up at her excited by the prospect.

"Yes, young man—real blood!" as she tweaked his chin and smiled back.

Mary returned "Ay you three best be gettin' in the back. I left a biscuit for each of ya—Brian don't you be eatin' the twin's biscuits," she told them.

"Thank you missus doctor," they said in unison as the three dashed in the back to the kitchen.

Mary sat the tray down that contained a pot, two cups and a plate of biscuits, "Sorry Dr. Crawley hope they weren't to much of a bother."

"No they're very adorable."

"Oh ho, I should leave 'em wid ya for an afternoon—you'll 'ave your fill. But mostly they're good, not too much trouble."

As both young women sat facing one another in the two chairs, Mary poured the tea and handed the cup to her guest.

"Your mother said you've been looking after the children?"

"Don't much work anymore since she's been sick. I mostly take care of the house, the cookin', cleanin' and all. I do some sewing piecework when I can. My brother Kevin who's thirteen helps my uncle with his farm not too far from here. And my oldest brother Tom works in the shipyards; he too helps my uncle on the weekends. Since papa died we've all had to help out more. I had to leave school and go to work."

"Do you miss school?" she asked Mary, who seemed to be taller than her mother and perhaps favored her father in that regard.

"I do, miss mostly the learnin'. I saw how Tom took to it and wanted to follow what he did. I read his books when I can. Though its mostly beyond me 'specially since I haven't see much o' tha world. I sometimes think I could be a ship's captain or explorer like those lads went ta north-pole. Do ya think women can do those things?" she said with a passion that suggested she'd spent a lot of time thinking about life beyond this tight-knit community. "Have ya traveled you being a lady doctor from England and all?"

"No I've not travelled much. I grew up in a very tiny village, so I didn't see much beyond that world. Though, I received my medical training in London, which was big and busy compared to my small town. I went to France last year, but have yet to see more," Sybil told her. She found kinship with Mary and confessed, "I too dream of other places. I like to hear what other people say about the far away places that they come from. I feel like I travel the world through them. I feel like I'd already been to Ireland. Your br…" She stopped. Indeed Branson had told her about the hilly landscape around the city that he remembered from visiting his uncle and aunt's farm.

The two women were almost finished their tea when they both heard CRASH—what sounded like something large and glass shattering into a million pieces. "Arghh, those three. See what I told ya. I'll be right back."

After Mary left to go check in the kitchen, she heard the front door open and close; next the sound of footsteps going up the stairs. "Ma, I'm back home. How are you today?" trailed off in a familiar voice. It was Branson. She put down her cup and went for her coat, hat, and bag. She hoped he would stay upstairs long enough for her to slip out the door. She pulled Anna's envelope and her note out of her pocket, and propped it up on the tray with the teapot.

Mary was coming out of the back carrying Fiona who was crying with a cut on her hand. She yelled, "Tom, come downstairs the lady doctor seeing Ma is still here, stop in to meet her."

In a panic Sybil dashed out of the parlor, just as Branson had turned from coming down the stairs. They froze—as if each had seen a ghost.

She blushed and stuttered, "T-Tom, I came to…"

"Sybil, what on earth are you doing here?" he said in disbelief, his mouth turning up into a smile.

"You two know each other?" Mary asked confused by their familiarity.

But Mary's question fell on deaf ears as the two lovers crossed paths once again.