Today was just as exciting as yesterday. We spent the remainder of yesterday settling patients in and then were sent to our rooms to rest. Today I got to escort patients to their day room, hand out their medications, record on their charts and track that they are taken care of.
I am lucky because Elsa and I have been paired together, and we can at least pass some time by chatting. Also, we got assigned to Block C for our first week, which means we have the easier patients to deal with.
I must admit the elderly are cute, albeit a bit trying. Mr Rawson, an eighty-six year old man with a bad memory, keeps asking us the same question every twenty or so minutes. He wants to know if he ate his pudding. At first we answered him honestly and this just served to confuse him. Eventually we answered him with a simple ‘Yes’ or ‘Of course you did, Mr Rawson’ and he would beam a happy toothless grin our way and shuffle along.
Some of the patients in this ward simply sit in chairs by the windows and stare out between the security bars at the lawn outside. I wondered if they will ever be allowed out to enjoy the sunshine. It is something I would have wanted for my Nan. I will ask the doctors if it is advisable, or doable, if we keep an eye on them.
Elsa told me we are expecting a lot more patients to arrive this week, so we will be really busy between all the wards. It’s going to be hard to keep track of everyone. As it is, I am struggling to remember names. I am considering asking Elsa to help me make name tags for the patients to identify them easily, but she may see that as unprofessional and childish.
I have access to the patient files, and each file has a photo; maybe I should spend some time studying their files instead, to remember who they are, what they are being treated for and how they are being treated.
By the end of this year I am going to be head nurse! I just know it!
07 July 1970
Elsa wasn’t kidding about the fact they were bringing in a lot more patients. We were called to a staff meeting and were told that we are to do our duty with however many patients are in the block we were working on that day and that we are not here to make friends; we are here to work.
Let’s see:
Wednesday 01/07
This was the day a lot of the patients destined for Block E arrived. I checked my schedule and I wasn’t due to work in Block E until the end of this month, so I can at least go over the patient files and prepare for it.
Elsa spent the day with me in Block C again taking care of the elderly. Dr Wetson disagreed about letting the elderly outside to enjoy the lawn. The facility walls are still being redone and it is too great a risk that someone may wander off and hurt themselves or go missing.
I know he has a point, but I can’t help but feel it is cruel to keep them locked up inside all the time.
Thursday 02/07
I discovered today that even in a place meant strictly for healing there is a lot of politics. Elsa and I got into an argument with an orderly over how he treated Mr Rawson, and when we contacted Dr Shelly, the head doctor for Block C, we were told to mind our business and that the orderlies were better trained to keep the patients in check.
I cannot believe it! I am absolutely fuming and so is Elsa. I understand they are a huge help to us, but that is literally what they are here for - to assist us! We went to school to study medicine in order to become qualified nurses. They are here as nurse assistants! I cannot believe Dr Shelly took their side.
Elsa says it’s a man thing and that men will always look down on women. I am going to complain to Dr Wetson.
Friday 03/07
I tried to get an appointment to see Dr Wetson today, but he was so busy with patient intake and showing Block A patients and families around that I couldn’t get a moment with him to discuss the problem with Dr Shelly. Elsa wants me to leave it alone. She feels that if we complain about the people we work with, they will make our lives hell, but this isn’t fair. I worked exceptionally hard to become qualified.
When Dr Shelly came to do rounds today I just avoided him, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of my skills and talents and hard work. After he was finished he called me aside and told me to grow up before walking out. That did little to soothe my temper.
Saturday 04/07
Today was a better day. Dr Shelly has been removed from the facility because it was found out that he was abusing morphine. I am glad. He was a terrible doctor, one who did not appreciate how hard we worked.
We have been assigned a new German doctor in the meantime. He seems to genuinely care about the patients and constantly talks about researching cures for their diseases. He feels that treating their symptoms are not enough and that we should work on curing them so they can return to leading normal lives. I admire him and I am so excited to be working with him. It’s as though he knows exactly how I feel about treating patients and we are meant to work together.
And I won’t lie, he’s kind of cute.
Sunday 05/07
I had the day off because Dr Wetson was busy with the new doctor. They are thinking of assigning us to specific doctors as opposed to rotating wards. I am hoping I will get to work with Dr Brock.
I spent the day strolling around the grounds. It’s still warm this time of year and the sun beaming down on my skin made me think of home. I used to love lying on the lawn outside and tanning when I was younger. I can’t remember the last time I did that.
After my stroll I made my way back to my room and saw one of the new patients at the end of the hall. She was young, maybe thirteen years old, and she was so beautiful to look at. I waved to her and she gave me a shy wave back before turning to walk down the corridor. I worried about why she was out of her day room and moved towards that hallway. When I turned the corner, the girl was gone. One of the orderlies must have taken her back to where she belonged. If they didn’t, there would be a notification over the radio soon enough. It never came, which made me feel relieved.
I swung around to make my way back to my room and found Dr Brock standing right behind me. He begged my forgiveness for startling me and commented about how happy he was that he would be working with me going forward. I couldn’t help but give him a huge smile.
Monday 06/07
This was the day I started my rotation with Dr Brock. He paired Elsa with me and of course I was ecstatic, but Elsa said she didn’t feel comfortable working with him, that there was something off with him. When I asked her about it, she explained that he would disappear suddenly and she was sure he was doing something wrong.
I think she is just a touch weird, because he comes across as absolutely helpful to me. He has such a magical touch with the patients. We discussed how he would like to treat them and he confirmed he wanted to create a private ward specifically for his patients.
When we were done today I came back to my rooms. When I got there I could have sworn I heard laughter and saw a little girl running, but when I went to investigate I didn’t find anything. It was the same girl from the day before and, when I didn’t see her again, I went back to my rooms to sleep.
14 July 1970
I am so exhausted from this last week that I’m not sure if there is anything to report. I mostly worked with the patients and tried my best to keep up. Elsa is also feeling the exhaustion. I can see it in the dark circles around her eyes and the way she sometimes rests her head against the frame of the door while she stands there, closing her eyes for just a split second nap before her head snaps up in shock.
I feel the same way. We get hardly any rest at all.
Dr Brock has us working in our blocks during the day, and at night we assist him in setting up the private ward where he wants to cure patients everyone else has written off.
Normally, I return to bed in the early hours of the morning, and I’m up a few short hours later to start my rotation.
We haven’t been assigned to a new block yet. I think the administration team is still trying to work out a decent rotation roster for us. I personally hope they don’t rotate us at al
l. As it is, I struggle to remember the shift nurses names, the ones who come from outside to assist for five hours at a time, whereas we stay on the premises permanently. Imagine if I had to remember different patient and nurse and orderly names every time I changed blocks.
I want to break the week down day by day, but right now I don’t have the energy, so I’m going to sign off here and will hopefully have something to report back next week.
P.S.: Elsa still doesn’t like Dr Brock, so it’s mostly just me at night helping set up the ward. I don’t get why she is so suspicious.
P.S.S.: Maybe she is upset because Dr Brock is not paying her attention. I’m only writing this because it just struck me and I want to think on this. She doesn’t seem like that kind of person, but then you don’t really know. Do you?
Chapter Ten
KAREN
21 July 1970
I spent the evening dining with Dr Brock. It started like every other normal Tuesday. I tended to my patients and then went to assist with the final set up and sterilisation of the private ward. I don’t know if Dr Wetson is aware of what Dr Brock is up to, but I have to admit there is a part of me, a rebellious part, that is extremely excited.
Before I retired, Dr Brock invited me to join him for a late supper. At first I was hesitant, because although I find him extremely attractive, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. At the same time I felt it would be a great opportunity to hear what he has planned for the private ward.
Dinner was a simple affair. We ate steamed fish with vegetables and sipped on wine. I could feel my cheeks warming from the alcohol, but I felt comfortable and happy.
Dr Brock explained that his research in Germany led him to believe that there were two ways to cure patients. The first was to give them what they wanted, if possible, allowing them to feel complete. The other way, he expounded, was to show them that their tastes were merely different, not crazy, and that they could have what they wanted without resorting to extremes.
He used homosexuality as his example. He said he had successfully cured men of being homosexual by allowing them anal sex with men several times and then to have anal sex with a woman. Once the men discovered the anal sex was with a female, they realised they simply preferred anal sex, and weren’t really homosexual.
He explained how homosexuality was simply a psychological construct intended to explain a strange sexual pleasure. There were women out there that were greatly pleasured via anal stimulation. As a result, he proved that a man’s sexual tastes did not have to resort to homosexual relations.
I found all of this fascinating. He completely captured my attention and I couldn’t take my eyes from his face as he poured my third glass of wine. A small voice in the back of my head screamed that I shouldn’t drink anymore, I was losing the ability to think rationally, but there was a larger voice whispering that I wanted to know exactly what he planned.
It was strange, but I put it down to way too much alcohol. It seemed that every time I looked at him, his face changed. It was as though Dr Brock was, at first, a handsome foreign doctor, and then it seemed like his face was burnt black and the skin dropped off. I tried shaking my head in order to clear it while he sat back down opposite me.
While we sipped our wine he told me about the first patient he wanted to treat. It was John, the patient I escorted into the Asylum and had to secure to his bed by his arms and legs. I hadn’t known his story then, but Dr Brock said he was a killer. That he had targeted a specific group of people and as a result he was eventually captured, tried and committed to the Asylum to be treated for his insanity. The last thing he did was to tip a barrel of acid into a swimming pool where a family of four African-Americans were swimming because he wanted to ‘clean the pool of their black germs’.
I am sure the horror I felt at this statement could be seen as clear as day on my face. How someone, in this day and age, could treat people of colour that way was simply incomprehensible. Dr Brock assured me he intended to cure this man of his psychosis, his inner hatred. It will be hard, but will ultimately ensure he comes to appreciate a person of colour.
To say that I am intrigued is an understatement and I cannot help but feel an unwavering and strong sense of loyalty and dedication to the doctor.
Wednesday 22/07
Elsa asked me about my whereabouts the previous night and I could not confide in her where I was, who I was with, and what we were discussing. She is very mistrusting of Dr Brock and that angers me; it makes me question whether or not she truly cares about our patients, or if this is just a way to earn a buck for her.
Perhaps she is not the person I thought she was at all. I simply said I was catching up paperwork and had supper in my own room. She seemed suspicious, but I don’t really care.
Today I did my rounds as was expected and then quickly left her to go set up the private ward for Dr Brock. I hadn’t seen him yet and wanted to ensure I could catch up with him and hopefully he would tell me more about curing John.
He wasn’t in the private ward and I was a little disheartened. I started the normal routine of disinfecting everything in sight. As I packed his medical instruments away, strange and wild looking foreign instruments I wasn’t accustomed to, I heard a loud clanging behind me.
I swear, diary, my heart jumped straight into my throat as I whipped around. There was no one there, but the air was suddenly freezing and I could see my breath rising in front of my face like a wisp of steam.
Someone or something had caused a tray of standard instruments to tumble to the floor. That didn’t account for how the temperature in the room had suddenly changed, but I tried to ignore it, collected the scopes, probes and tray from the floor and took them to the sink to sterilise them once more.
The hot water gushing from the basin warmed my hands as I washed the instruments before plugging the basin and letting it fill half way. I placed the instruments in there to soak and was drying my hands when the crispy smell of roast pork unexpectedly assaulted my senses.
I couldn’t pinpoint where the smell was coming from; it must have wafted down from the kitchens, and it smelled delicious. I hoped it would be served for lunch the next day.
After replacing the instruments, I retired, locking up quickly and coming directly to my room.
Thursday 23/07
This day was like the previous, simply going through my routines as I was required to. I didn’t see Dr Brock, but the patients were keeping me busy and I assumed they were doing the same for him.
Elsa kept giving me weird looks all day and when I asked if something was wrong, she wouldn’t acknowledge me. I asked if she was assisting me in Dr Brock’s ward tonight and she said she had put in a request to be reassigned as she was not comfortable working with him.
This just further confirms my suspicions that she really is only here for the money and doesn’t truly care about the patients. I am starting to distance myself from her because I certainly don’t want that sort of ‘appearance’ to be associated with me, especially if I want to be head nurse of a ward one day.
Perhaps if I assist Dr Brock cure several patients I will even be mentioned in his publications. That will be the most amazing thing ever! I can send copies to everyone I know so they can see I am excelling.
I wasn’t sure if Dr Brock wanted me in the ward later, so I stopped by to see if he was there, but he wasn’t. The smell of roast pork still lingered in the air, which was strange since we were served fish and chips for lunch. Perhaps I am getting ill.
I decided to retire early.
Friday 24/07
I still haven’t seen Dr Brock. I asked Dr Wetson if he had seen him and he shook his head. He was very busy, though, so I’m not sure he even heard me. I’ve noticed he doesn’t bother to learn names; for all I know, he can’t place Dr Brock at all.
I am concerned. Since his arrival, Dr Brock has been diligent about treatments and patients and the ward we are setting up. For him to suddenly disappear into thin air, as it app
eared, I feel something has perhaps happened to him.
I couldn’t dwell on it as I received notice that I was to assist with patients in short staffed Block B today. I had never assisted in Block B before.
These patients are suicidal and are often kept in their rooms, tied to their beds, but some are allowed in the day room under careful supervision.
I didn’t know the nurses from this block, so it was a bit awkward, but they simply showed me where everything was kept, indicated which patients had to be watched the most and said that the rest of the time we simply sat there and did our own thing.
It was peculiar. In my block you are always checking on the patients, making sure they are happy and have everything they needed. They are old and often their families don’t bother to come and see them, so I think it important we take care of them properly.
Block B feels cold and heartless, as though it doesn’t matter what happens or what the patients do as long as they don’t harm or kill themselves. It made me feel dirty.
Saturday 25/07
Dr Brock remained elusive. I went past his rooms and he wasn’t there, nor was he in his ward downstairs. I was then summoned to Dr Wetson’s office. My assumptions were right; he kept getting my name wrong as he explained to me that, due to my delicate and diligent nature, he was promoting me to Block E.
Asylum Box Set Page 9