4.
(tärkeintä on, ettet sinä koveta sun sydäntä koskaan)
Josh waked up early, yet pretty brisk. Sunlight was coming inside the room, promising another fine day. He drew the curtains aside and opened the window. In the morning, the hospital park looked completely different than last evening, but its beauty was equally impressing. Josh prepared himself breakfast from Etienne's supply, that he'd slightly depleted yesterday, and ate quickly. It wasn't even seven, so he decided to go for a short walk.
Moving amongst the thick trunks and observing the play of sunlight, whenever it managed to get through the layer of leaves, Josh came to the conclusion that his rapture - as well as some unexplained, almost palpable, gratitude that he could be here - might result from that he'd lived the last two years in Paris. And while Paris could be a wonder of architecture, there wasn't really much of nature in it. Then again, Josh had spent in provinces all his childhood and later, for seven years, had lived in Saint Grollo, that was located in the enormous park, just like Sainte-Jeanne hospital. He really liked Paris and enjoyed staying there - and, as long as he was with Alain, he didn't care about the place - but now he just couldn't remain immune to the fact that outside his windows were trees he could walk amongst for hours, and not another house with a tiny bit of sky, while the nearest patch of greenness was a square two hundred meters long and fifty metres wide.
His feet took him towards one of the deserted buildings, a two-storey pavilion with arched windows. What could have it served as? A ward? A medical office? Or maybe just an utility room, built and decorated like others, to match the general design? He tried to imagine the hospital just as it must have looked in the beginning of its functioning. Actually, it wasn't hard to believe that any moment a lady in a stylish dress would emerge from behind the tree to walk in the open and reflect on her distress... She would sit down on that bench there, maybe with a book that would help her to divert her attention from her concern... or maybe she would ask another patient to keep her company, in order to enjoy her presence and support. He had no idea how treatment might have looked like in 19th century, but he thought that, just like now, the most important was the contact with another person, a possibility to talk, to confide... He suspected that the troubles of most upper-class representatives' here had been more or less imagined, yet for themselves they would seem real and certainly distressing; it was a good thing they could have regain some peace here. Nevertheless, now the hospital served those who really needed it, and Josh thought it was right this way.
A bit farther, he saw a building that, to the contrary, he recognized immediately: it must have been a chapel. One could tell already from afar that it had been long abandoned. The windows lacked many panes, one of the door leaves had dislocated from the hinge and was now hanging tilted, and there were clusters of nettles growing all around. He tried to have a peek inside but managed to saw only ratty pews; it was quite a depressing sight, so he stepped back quickly. A glance at the watch told him he should already head back.
A quarter to eight, as he walked towards the administration building, it was already quite hot. The sky, as he could tell through the tree crowns, wasn't obscured by a single cloud. The park, however, didn't seem dry; quite the contrary, it appeared humid, although it could be that the ubiquitous greenness was creating such an illusion. Still, he hoped that it would rain soon, for he didn't wish to see this place sun baked.
He had no trouble finding the director's office and knocked on the door right at eight o'clock. He was answered by 'Enter!', so he walked inside, his heart beating fast. The wooden floor creaked under his feet; wood appeared to be the main material of the slightly old-fashioned room. Now, however, something else was striking here: the office was buried in papers and books, and amongst that chaos resided a slight man whose personality seemed to be described as 'a bunch of nerves'. 'Director would certainly benefit from stay in hospital himself. Or, rather, far from it,' Josh thought involuntarily, coming closer. Upon seeing him, the man jumped to his feet from the armchair and ran up to him, and Josh noticed that the suit was hanging on him as if it was too big; the director probably had spent many nights waking, and worry had made him skip some meals, too...
The man began to shake hands with him. "Mr Or, I'm so glad to see you...! I'm Eugene Girard, the director of Sainte-Jeanne Hospital. Please, sit down. I hope you forgive me this mess," he said, shifting some papers aside to make some place for him. "Please. Would you like some coffee?"
Josh sat down where some free space had appeared and looked at the man, who took the other chair. "Thank you, Sir, but I've just had breakfast."
Director was staring at him intensely and seemed ready to start up again if it could please Josh one way or another. On one hand, Josh found that flattering; on the other hand... he felt strange, being given such an attention. For a moment, he simply stared back, although he quickly decided there wasn't much to look at. Director Girard was a man at... well, yes, Associate Dean Villeneuve's age, only much shorter and slimmer, to say nothing of his slight baldness. Also, he was far from being as calm as his friend from Paris; quite the contrary, in his presence Josh felt even more nervous, especially under that scrutinizing look.
Finally, when silence became impossible to suffer, he began shyly, "Director, you wished to see me...?"
The man started, as if he'd just realized it to be the case indeed. Josh suppressed a sudden urge to laugh and asked himself whether he would survive the whole month of being around that man. But, he quickly decided, they would hardly see each other; the director seemed to be a very busy person...
"Ah, that's indeed so. Mr Or, I'm extremely happy that you could come here. You're really saving us," he threw out in just one breath. "I hope you've had a pleasant journey and that the flat is to your liking, although the standard is quite low and-"
Josh interrupted that litany of things he found pretty irrelevant. There were more important matters, and he wouldn't know his position unless they discussed it. He also came to the conclusion that the sooner they got it over with, the sooner Director could return to his duties, that were certainly more significant than talking with a student. He'd better take matters in his hands.
"Yes, Director... I hope that you tell me more about my duties here..." he suggested. "I'm very interested in this... work." saying this didn't came easy. A second-year student and work? "I suppose I shall start right away...?"
Director blinked - and smiled lightly, which made his face look better at once. "I see you're enthusiastic about it. I'm really happy to know that," he said, still smiling. "Yes, I think it's best if you start today. Of course, first you have to learn about the hospital and the wards. We'll start with formalities, but it would be favourable if you meet the patients today, at least some of them."
Josh nodded. He'd imagined it to be that way himself. "Am I going to have a specific assignment or work on all three wards?" he asked.
"I see that you've already acquainted yourself with the hospital organization," Director said approvingly.
"Etienne described it to me yesterday, so I know it, more or less."
"Etienne...? Ah, that's right, he was asked to receive you. Well, I thought about assigning you to the acute ward."
"That new one, where all-diagnosis patients are admitted to...?" Josh asked. Actually, he realized it now, he'd hoped to get there.
"Do you have anything against that?" Director asked cautiously.
Josh firmly shook his head. "Sir, it is you who decide here," he replied. "Please, use me as you see fit," he added, finding it appropriate, and the man brightened even more. "Besides, I'm glad about it. Work on an acute ward is more educational... or so I think. You know, Sir, that I am supposed to have my practice period as well...?" He paused, musing over the most crucial matter. "Speaking of what... First of all, Sir, I would like you to tell me what difference a student after the second year of Psychology can make in his hospital... According to Professor Villeneuve, I shall talk with the patients...?"
Upon hearing his friend's name, Director clearly warmed up - maybe he remembered that it was him who had sent Josh here, and considered it a good recommendation - and began to exhaustively answer his question, with enthusiasm Josh would never suspect of him. During the next quarter Josh learned that he would talk with the patients, indeed - only that and so much. He would talk about their condition and symptoms, about their past and their future plans, about anything they would like to talk and what concerned them. He would write down these information in medical records, that he himself would have full access to, of course. He was obliged to secrecy, which meant he wasn't allowed to reveal any details on the patients and their treatment to a third party. He was not allowed to make any decisions about the treatment process, for it belonged to the doctors, but he was supposed to co-operate with the psychiatrists. Director encouraged him to participate in the morning report and the round, as well as consult the doctor whenever he felt like doing so.
"But the doctors are surely very busy?" he guessed with anxiety. "If they have to tend to three wards, ten-fifteen patients per each-"
"Thirty."
"Excuse me?"
"Our wards have capacity for thirty bed patients each," Director replied calmly. "Usually, they are full."
Josh stared at him mutely for a longer while and then decided against bothering the doctors unless really necessary. He hoped there was a library here and that he would find some book on clinical psychology. On examining a patient. Anything.
Director continued about how important for a psychiatric patient was a possibility to talk, share his fears, thoughts, feelings with another person. About how Josh should relate to them kindly and politely yet firmly. About that he shouldn't become involved emotionally in their problems. He should remember that, as a staff member, he was supposed to help, not lose his head and cry over the patients' fate. Crying iself was nothing bad, and once per week the personnel of every ward had a closed meeting, its purpose being to openly tell about one's work difficulties, vent emotions and receive support from colleagues. Also, Josh shouldn't take personally any unpleasant comments if he heard such from the patients' family members, which wasn't uncommon.
"Then, I am allowed to talk with the families?" he asked.
"If you wish so. It might help them, too."
Josh remembered how comforted he'd felt by speaking with Dr Sellier during Alain's hospitalisation. He guessed that staff of Sainte-Jeanne was too busy to meet the patients' relatives and utilise their presence in treating process... That reminded him of another thing.
"Am I allowed... to take the patients for a walk?" he inquired. "Of course, only those that the doctor gives a permission to. Etienne mentioned that there are many who can go outside with assistance..."
"I don't see why not. It's a good idea. Do you have others?" he said, and it took Josh a moment to realize that Director was joking; he blushed and shook his head. "Then, do you have any questions?"
Josh mused. "Only one," he said in the end. "How long am I supposed to be here? I know that one month, at least; that's the length of my practice..."
Director gave him a sad look. "If you feel like, you can stay here your whole holidays," he replied. "But it's not a well-paid job... We cannot pay a full salary to a student," he explained in an apologetic voice, "so I don't think you'd like to spend your summer here..."
"Paid?" Josh asked weakly. "I thought..."
"You thought you came here to work for free?" Director was clearly surprised. "My dear Mr Or, it's not a financial problem we struggle against here. At least, it's not our main concern... But I must admit I am touched. You've come here from far away to help us without being rewarded, how selfless of you... I wouldn't believe there are still people like you in Paris."
Josh left unspoken that he actually had come from vicinity and almost could be considered a neighbour. "But the hospital is already paying for my accommodation and-"
Director lifted one hand to stop his protests. "That's the least we can do," he said solemnly. "And, of course, you work from Monday to Friday, eight hours per day with a lunch break. You have free weekends... although you won't find many forms of entertainment here," he added with some resignation.
Josh waved his hand; what entertainment he might need when he had such a park for the taking? He was still surprised by Director's words. He hadn't expected he would be given some money for staying here; the practice period was obligatory, after all... Well, it wasn't the most important; he mused over the previous topic.
"I came here for one month," he stated slowly. "And I'm going to stay here one month," he added with a sudden resolve. "But if I fit... if I manage... then I'll see. If I like it here and am able to really help, then I may stay here longer. Only that I never before... never before worked with psychiatric patients. So I don't know if I'll live up to your expectations, Sir," he said with some helplessness. He really didn't trust his skills. No, he didn't even know he had any.
"Why don't we figure that out today?" Director replied with a smile and rose, so Josh followed. The man walked him to the door. "Madame Montagne, the head nurse, is waiting for you. She is going to explain all practical things to you and show you the hospital. You can ask her about anything. Madame Montagne knows everything there is to know about Sainte-Jeanne. Her office is in the other end of the corridor," he showed the direction.
Josh stretched his hand. "Thank you for giving me your time, Director Girard," he said quite officially.
"It is I who thank you," the man replied, shaking his hand. "I hope you will enjoy your stay here."
"I am enchanted by this place," Josh replied truthfully. "I mean the area. As for my work, I approach it openly. I want to learn something, in the first place. But of course it's important to me that my staying here is of use to you. I'll give my best," he said, although it sounded a bit too stiff to his ears.
Director, however, didn't think that; to the contrary, he appeared close to tears, so Josh quickly evacuated from his office to meet another person who - he sensed it - was of great importance for his being here. Madame Montagne... Marianne Montagne, said the nameplate on the door. He cleared his throat and knocked, hoping that, this time, he wouldn't make a woman cry... However, when he heard invitation and entered, he quickly understood there was no need to fear that.
Madame Montagne rose from her chair by the desk, and Josh realized that, even if he hadn't known how a head nurse should look like so far, from now on he would never have any doubt about it. Madame was as tall as he, only twice as broad yet, strangely, didn't seem obese. She was wearing a traditional outfit - or, at least, Josh imagined that was how nurses had used to clothe in old times - in a grey dress with an apron and white cap. She appeared over fifty and probably was already approaching sixty, yet her face was only slightly wrinkled. The gaze of her slate-blue eyes was attentive and vigilant, and her lips were slightly drawn. She inspired awe; that was obvious for Josh. He thought that her family name suited her perfectly; she was like a mountain, dominant and seeing everything below.
Madame was looking at him as intensely, but there was hardly any kindness on her face. Apparently, she was a stern and demanding person, which also fitted; to manage the personnel of such a big facility, she must have been strong and firm. Her office, too, proved her to be a disciplined and organized - contrary to the director's office, this place was very tidy, with books and folders put on the shelves. A white net-curtain was moving in the windows, the geranium in the pot was smelling in the sunlight, and the paintings of rustic landscapes were hanging on the walls. The interior was the same as in the previous room, yet, for some reason, it fitted here much better.
Josh returned to the woman who was the soul of this place. He approached her and stretched his arm, already aware he wouldn't be showered with compliments or praise. However, he didn't expected such a welcome, either. "I'm Joshua Or. I arrived from Paris yesterday," he said politely. "I'm going to help on the acute ward for the next month. Director sent me here to-"
The woman's eyes grew more narrow, when she took his hand. "Marianne Montagne. Don't you dare to seduce the women, our patients."
Josh blinked and instinctively stepped back, freeing his arm from her very strong grasp. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, astonished and puzzled as to whether he should feel flattered or offended.
However, the idea to treat it as a joke quickly evaporated from his mind, when Madame spoke again. "You've heard me," she said, sitting down behind her desk; the chair creaked under her weight. "Even if you look good, it doesn't mean you're allowed to do anything."
Now Josh felt angry, but he tried to remain calm. "I assure you that flirting with patients wouldn't even occur to my mind," he replied coldly.
"I hope so, but I'm going to observe you nonetheless," she said menacingly, and it was close that she wagged her finger at him. "There's no knowing, with the likes of you."
Now, that was enough. Being suspected of such intentions was one thing - so absurd that he nearly felt like laughing - but if it were to influence how his work here was viewed, he preferred to straighten it out at once.
He placed both hands on the desk and looked down at Madame. "In that case, let me tell you... and I'd prefer you didn't particularly put it around, Madame... that I'm not interested in women," he hissed. "But rest assured; I'm not going to seduce the male patients either. First, I'm in a relationship; second... I wouldn't have come here from Paris to... to a love conquest!"
He was satisfied to see her eyes widen in an authentic astonishment. Surely, she wasn't used to be treated this way. He guessed that she enjoyed undisputed respect, probably even greater than Director... Josh considered himself quite a calm man, but he just hated any misunderstandings about himself and, more than anything, couldn't stand being treated unfairly; in such a situation, he was ready to defend himself, and his sharp tongue would help him a lot. To tell the truth, he realized he was quite amused, in the end. And, besides, it seemed that Madame Montagne was a person of character, even if haggish.
Never waiting for invitation, he sat down on the chair opposite her and said, "Then, shall we start one again and forget about the earlier...? I'm Joshua Or, I've come from Paris..."
"Right, you've come from Paris," she said distractedly and rubbed her forehead, but then fixed her gaze on him again. "Are you, by any chance... Do you know Tristan Vallee?" she asked in a hostile voice.
"Never heard of him," Josh replied right away, feeling he was getting angry again. "Who's that?" he asked with annoyance. Here he was trying to prove his goodwill, yet she kept picking on him.
"No-one important," Madame responded, apparently contended with his answer, and clasped her hands on the desk. "If you don't know him, it's the best. I am Marianne Montagne, the head nurse in Sainte-Jeanne Hospital. I'm sorry to have greeted you that unpleasant way," she claimed, but nothing in her voice indicated she really was.
"Don't worry about that," Josh replied as friendly. "Somehow, we'll have to spend one month in each other's company. We shouldn't be bothered by such trifles and feel offended."
She looked him in the eye, and it was the first time that Josh saw some flash of smile in her glance, although her face was as stern as before. "You are right," she agreed. "Yes, you've come here for one month," she said in a neutral tone, and Josh wondered whether, contrary to Director, she considered him a scourge. "I suppose you've already discussed all the details with Director...?"
"Director sent me to you, Madame, in order to be informed of all practical matters," he rushed to explain.
"I see." Madame nodded and opened one drawer to take out a key and a sheet of paper. "Here is the key you're going to use when in the hospital. And here comes your acknowledgement."
Josh signed a short writing in which he committed himself to minding the key and return it after his work here was done. Madame Montagne put the paper in the folder and then took out and passed to him a name tag. 'Joshua Or, an intern,' it wrote below the logo of hospital. Well, 'an intern' undoubtedly sounded better than 'a trainee' or, even worse, 'a student'. And it was obscure enough to make people not realize who he really was. Apparently, the management of hospital didn't intend to announce that they had employed a completely inexperienced student.
"You will attach it and wear it every time," Madame instructed, giving him a severe look. "That is, whenever you're at work."
Josh did as she commanded him to - he hoped the tag would hold - and looked at her again.
"As for your clothing, you can stay like you are. There's no requirement to wear a uniform," Madame said and scrutinized him for a moment; she seemed about to add something, obviously concerning his appearance... However, she decided to leave it unsaid, and instead gave him another paper. "Here is the week schedule of the ward. As you see, the day starts with the morning report at eight; both doctors and ward sisters attend it... I'm going to show you the place later. At half past eight the round starts; it is scheduled to end by ten, but in reality it lasts much longer than that. If I am correct, you are supposed to attend both, is that right?" she asked, and Josh nodded. "The remaining time is for your individual disposal, except for occasional meetings of personnel, as you can see here," she pointed at specific sessions on three different days. "You are not obliged to participate, but the personnel will be pleased to see you there anyway," she said in a way clearly indicating that Josh should conform. "The lunch break is between eleven and twelve; hospital covers your eating expenses."
"But-" Josh objected weakly.
"Hospital covers your eating expenses," Madame repeated in a tone that didn't accept any objection. "Or, do you have such a delicate palate that our country cooking won't be to your liking?" she added bitingly.
"Now you are being mean, Madame," Josh retorted. "I eat everything that is served."
"Very good," Madame praised him, as if he were five-year old. "Is the schedule clear to you? Keep it," she added, and something in her voice implied he should tape it on the door and memorize as soon as possible. "Do you have any questions?"
Josh certainly had, tons of questions, but nothing specific occurred to his mind at the moment, so he shook his head. Madame rose - and it seemed the room became smaller. When Josh jumped to his feet, she waved at him to follow her.
"In that case, let's go to the hospital. You should ask whenever anything occurs to you," she encouraged in not a very encouraging voice. Josh even had the impression she found it impossible that anything 'occurred to him'; at least, anything useful. Oh, he would show her, he decided and, after a moment, realized that his long forgotten ambitiousness was speaking up.
It was only past nine, yet it was scorching heat outside. Josh rolled up the sleeves and followed Madame, who headed for the entrance of the main building in a dignified stride, never caring about the temperature. Josh thought that, if the heat knew who she was, it would run away at once. They crossed the yard with probably the only maintained flower bed and entered a hall, that was much cooler. Josh curiously looked around until his eyes caught a big board listing the wards. 'Once, it must have been much longer,' he decided with sadness, staring at the free space. Now there was only three names: 'Psychosis 1' wrote off to 'Acute Ward', first floor; 'Psychosis 2', first floor; 'Chronic Mood Disorders', second floor.
Madame went into the corridor to the right, so he followed her. "Here is where the morning report takes place," she showed the empty room, now filled with sunlight. "At eight," she reminded.
They resumed walking in the corridor that ended in a canteen. It was bathed in light, too, thanks to windows in all three walls and bright décor. Josh was aware that during a sunny day every place looked nice, but he really liked it here nonetheless. The dining area was very spacious, and he shouldn't be surprised by that, since the hospital had once been really huge. He guessed that, during its glory days, it must have contained over ten, maybe even over twenty wards... All that personnel required to be provided meals, and thus the size. Josh saw the tables on the central yard, too; apparently, one could eat outside if felt like doing so.
"Lunch is-"
"Between eleven and twelve," Josh replied to show he remembered that.
Madame nodded approvingly and made her way back to the hall to, Josh suspected, proceed to the ward. However, if he thought they would use the old-fashioned lift in the centre, he was disappointed to see her climb the stairs. She probably believed that, with her size and all, she should care about her fitness, which Josh found appealing. It was clear, though, they wouldn't have any race; they moved up at a leisurely pace. Through the high windows Josh could see that there was indeed a broad space between the two hospital wings; once, it must have been a well kept yard, but now it was overgrown with the grass.
The broad stairs of polished stone took them to the first floor, where Madame opened the proper door. "When entering the ward, always make sure there is no-one behind the door. I mean, except for the personnel," she said when they were already inside.
Josh looked around the wide corridor that stretched ahead some thirty meters before turning left. The ward was situated in the same wing that the canteen... and was huge. Now he was no longer surprised that Director had told him about thirty beds. To tell the truth, it seemed much more patients might fit here, only it wouldn't be humane any more - both for themselves and the staff.
At present, the patients were pretty much invisible - except for a few, clearly absorbed in their own worlds, to whom the request to stay in their rooms during the round had no meaning. Madame walked on, her heels clicking on the floor, but not as much as it was disturbing. Josh followed her, realizing it was nicely cool inside. True, the sun had yet to start shining on this side of the building, yet he supposed that the thick stone walls isolated the interior from the heat anyway. The problem was whether it wasn't too cold here during cloudy days...
Madame showed him the nurse station in the central part of the ward, now empty, and guided him to the room that he was supposed to use. When he slipped inside after her, he had to suppress a cry of surprise. He had expected some tiny closet, yet what he found could equal the best offices he'd seen so far. Actually, he felt quite bewildered, staring at the beautiful furniture and shelves full of books...
Shelves full of books? He turned around and gave Madame a questioning look.
"It is the office of our psychologist, Mr Bordes, who was forced to resign his post due to medical reasons," she explained, sitting down on the leather couch and waving at him to do the same. "He didn't manage to take anything, so it was left as it was. I don't think he would have anything against you using it," she added in a tone ringing with some sympathy; then, however, she cleared her throat and said more sharply. "Do you have any questions about the hospital?"
Josh shook his head. "I wanted to ask you about the library, but it seems I can find everything needed here."
Madame's eyes flashed with approval, yet her words were incisive, "You can't possibly believe to learn from the books how to deal with those people?", she said provocatively. "You won't find anything about the most important thing there."
Josh turned to her, holding back his smile. He had the impression he was slowly getting used to her character and way of being. "Then, what is the most important thing, Madame Montagne?" he asked.
"Heart," she replied without a second thought. "You must have a heart for them," she repeated with emphasis. "Of course, I don't mean any indecent behaviour," she added right away.
"That last remark was unnecessary," Josh retorted.
"I said it just in case," she claimed sternly, but he could tell the corner of her lips twitch. "Well, this is the place you can speak with the patients. But you must know with whom you can be left alone," she instructed. "You're going to learn that from the doctor during the round. If anything happens, though, you just run away from here," she said outright. "Keep it in mind to always sit closer to the door. In psychiatry, it's no use playing a hero, for it may end tragically," she declared in a cold, matter-of-fact tone.
Josh nodded. "I know. Quite recently I had to do with a psychotic... a paranoid person," he replied and gulped. "It was nothing pleasant," he added in a softer voice.
Madame had a closer look at him. "It's good that you have some experience," she commented.
He waved his hand. "I have no experience whatsoever," he put her straight. "It was... a personal matter. That's why your guidance is so important. Please, tell me more."
Madame kept observing him for a while before resuming the subject. "If such a situation happens that you can't leave the room, you can activate the alarm. It's there on the wall, behind the desk." Josh followed her gesture and saw a small button. "It will bring help immediately. I'm sure that the personnel will know who can come here with you, but I say it just in case. Remember that your own safety is a priority," she emphasized. "I don't say that psychiatric patients are aggressive by nature, yet in some situations they can pose a threat to others. You know that already, don't you?" she added with a meaningful look.
Josh's hand involuntarily moved up towards his throat before he realized that and lowered it again onto his lap. He knew that... that event had left no traces, yet it would last a longer while before he managed to forget it altogether.
"Patient's records are kept in the nurse station," Madame continued. "You can use them but shouldn't move outside the ward. Director has told you to make a note of every meeting with a patient, hasn't he? Good."
"But... What should I write?" Josh suddenly became aware of his ignorance.
"Everything, Mr Or," Madame replied, giving him a penetrating look. "In psychiatry, every thing is of significance. However, there's no point in creating novels, for no-one's so patient to get through it," she added crisply. "Apart from that, it would be the best that initially you settle for shorter appointments, like twenty minutes, thirty at the very most. Some patients would talk you to death, which wouldn't do," now there was an evident kindness in her voice. "You're going to stay here for a month, after all," she added bitingly right away.
Josh grinned. He liked Madame more and more with every minute; she was intelligent and had a defiant character, if that could be said of someone her age. It probably could, he decided.
They talked about the best way to relate to the patients, for it was what interested him the most - as well as evoked his greatest concern. Josh confessed he had absolutely no experience with psychiatric patients. He decided to be honest and speak openly; he'd rather exposed himself to contempt and shame now than have his incompetence lead to someone getting hurt. Madame, however, took those revelations calmly and commented that everyone was a beginner at some point of their life, although she said that with an expression clearly indicating that, herself, she had known everything right at the beginning.
Madame instructed Josh to be honest and compassionate towards the patients, but she also repeated Director's words about not becoming involved in their problems. Also, the conversations shouldn't be like talks by coffee, and if they started to drift, he should correct them. He should be warm but also firm. Talking of himself was not an option, and he should remain patient and understanding in regards to statements like, 'You haven't experienced this, so you can't understand me.' 'If we'd gone through the same things our patients had, we shouldn't have been able to truly help him,' she said. 'It is our objective view that allows us to treat them, and it's our empathy that reinforces our efforts, the capacity to understand their situation despite never having experienced it.'
Josh listened to that very carefully. It sounded rather complicated, yet he thought he grasped the heart of the matter. "Then, the main thing is to retain the balance between compassion and... and professionalism?" he guessed. "To not overdo in either way? To show the patients we care, but never forger that we have a task to accomplish, at the same time?"
Madame looked at him appreciatively. "I see you have a good head on your shoulders," she said, and he realized it was the very first compliment she'd bestowed on him. Not counting that one about his looks, questionable as it was.
"No, it's just that you explain those things very well, Madame," he replied modestly. "I only hope I'll be able to find that balance. It doesn't seem an easy thing..."
"It's just a matter of practice. You're going to see yourself that every day and every talk with a patient will enhance your knowledge. It's an obvious thing that you cannot learn patient work from books, only from doing it. Of course, books can provide you with a direction," she added somewhat reluctantly.
They became immersed in talking once more, with Josh asking even more enthusiastically and being given exhaustive, satisfying answers. Finally, he fell silent, for it seemed to him that the topic had been profoundly dealt with, and his theoretical knowledge threatened to burst his mind.
Madame Montagne waited a moment before asking in her typical way, "Do you have more questions?"
Josh slowly shook his head. No, he certainly had enough for one day. "I think I'm going to wait in the nurse station until the round is over..." he said, looking at his watch. "I'm going to introduce myself to everyone. I'm sure they will tell me what to do next," he added with his heart racing. "And lunch is soon, too."
"I see you have a proper attitude," Madame was clearly contended and spared him a gracious smile. "Never forget about lunch. Whatever happens, you must find time to eat. We don't want any fainting students here. Our doctors are busy enough with the patients," she added sternly, but her eyes flashed. She already knew that Josh realized her sense of humour and wouldn't be bothered by her ironic remarks.
'I bet you eat three lunches per day,' Josh thought but didn't dare to vocalize it. "Yes, Madame Montagne," he said obediently.
"That's because you don't look like you have a good appetite," she needled him more.
"Don't worry, I've always been this skinny," he replied at once. "Besides... It's such a wonderful place that I feel much energetic and my appetite gets better."
Her face softened. "It is a beautiful place, isn't it?" she asked in an entirely different voice. "I'm glad you appreciate that."
"Maybe you should attach the photo of the hospital grounds to the job offers?" Josh suggested without thinking as it just had occurred to him. "I'm sure it would encourage people. I'm already in love with this place, although I arrived only yesterday."
Dreaminess vanished from Madame's eyes, and she was staring at him with an intent and fixed gaze again. "That's a very good idea," she muttered. "Apparently, you need a Parisian brain to think about it."
"Ah, but I'm only studying in Paris," Josh replied. "In fact, I come from Esperanto."
"Well, yes, I could have guessed that from your name..." She nodded thoughtfully before looking at him once more. "Maybe from Idealo?"
Josh smiled. "I did go to Saint Grollo..."
"My, the elite boys' school!" she exclaimed with some happiness. "And now you study at the University of Paris, well, well..."
"You seem to know quite a lot about Esperanto...?" he asked shyly.
"But it's just round the corner. You can walk there in one hour. Of course, it's a longer way to Idealo."
"Madame, I'd like to one day ask you how to get there. Now I don't want to talk about... about private matters during work time. Am I allowed to visit you in your office?" he requested.
"Why should you take the trouble?" she replied. "I eat with everyone in the canteen. If you could accompany me by my table..." she suggested.
Josh forgot how to talk. "You're an angel, Madame," he said when he finally got his speech back.
"No. To tell the truth, I come from Esperanto, too," she confessed, getting up, "only that I moved out of Idealo almost forty years ago. I'll be happy to talk to my fellow countryman."
Josh became speechless again. In just two hours, he was promoted from a seducer to a compatriot. Well, in his eyes, she was promoted from a hag to an angel, so they were on equal terms.
"I'll be honoured, Madame," he said and bowed his head.
"In that case, I leave you here," she replied with dignity and sailed out of the room like a galleon, shutting the door without a sound.
Josh stared at the place she'd disappeared; then, he approached the window and looked out at the sunbathed yard with a single bed of pansies, calming down his racing heart. It hadn't been that bad, he decided. He'd met with a nice welcome, and everything had been positive so far; nothing unpleasant had taken place. Director was quite exalted - which could be pardoned in current situation - and Madame Montagne seemed too strict, but he'd realized it was just a pose hiding her soft heart. He already liked both of them.
However, sympathy of his superiors meant nothing if he wasn't accepted by the ward personnel and, above all, didn't prove his usefulness in patient work. The very thought made his heart quicken even more, his palms getting sweaty. He feared to be rejected. This office was a shelter; he felt like staying here... but Joshua Or wasn't a coward. The sooner he did that, the easier it would be.
He looked through the books on the shelves and took one, Introduction to Working with a Psychiatric Patient. Yes, he could use that one. Certain he wouldn't be able to read with understanding as little as one page, he slipped out of the office and went to the nurse station, where he took the first chair and opened the book.
As he was skimming through the table of contents, a sudden realization struck him: for last two hours... no, actually since his coming do Sainte-Jeanne, he hadn't thought even once about his broken heart. If last Friday anyone had told him that in less than a week he would be able to feel as enthusiastic as he did now, he wouldn't have believed - and instead he would have felt offended. Now he could only hope such state would hold until the end of his stay in this exceptional place. It would benefit both himself and others.
The most important thing is to never harden your heart - Janna, "Sä et ole hullu"