by Paul Zindel
Loeb,thetwootherdoctorslistedinMissApplebaum’shealthplan,sharedthe
waiting room, but they each had their own receptionists. And all the other patientslookedverywealthyandrefined,butyoucouldtelltheyweresick.One
man was missing patches of his hair, and a lady patient wore dark textured stockingsthatlookedliketheyhaddesignsinthem,butwhenwelookedcloser,
wecouldseeshehadalotofstrangemarksalloverherskin.
Itwaspastnoonwhensomethingunusualhappened,andsomehowweknewit
had to do with Miss Applebaum. A male orderly in a white coat entered the waitingroomfromapairofswingingdoorsofftooneside,andhewaspushing
anemptywheelchair.HedisappearedintoDr.Silver’sexaminationroom,andin
less than five minutes he came out again pushing Miss Applebaum in the wheelchair. Dr. Silver was right behind them, and she ran interference as we rushedtowardMissApplebaum.
“Wehavetoadmityourgrandmothertothehospital,”Dr.Silversaid.
“Areyouallright,Grandma?”IaskedMissApplebaum,becauseIdidn’twant
themdoinganythingtoheragainstherwill.
“I’mfine,”MissApplebaumsaid.
“Areyousure?”Zeldaasked.
“Yes,mydarlings”—MissApplebaumbeamed—”yes.”
Beforeweknewwhatwashappening,theorderlypickedupspeedandpushed
Miss Applebaum through the swinging doors like she was going into a strange andeeriefunhouse.Itallhappenedsofast,wedidn’thavemuchtimetothink.
“We have to run a lot of tests,” Dr. Silver explained. “Your grandmother
reallyneedstobehospitalized.”
“Isthereachanceyoucandosomething?”Iaskedstraightout.
“There’salwaysachance,”Dr.Silversaid.
“That’swhatwewant,”Isaid.
“Whencanweseeher?”Zeldawantedtoknow.
“SheneedsXrays,abloodwork-up,andacompletephysical.It’dbebetterif
youwenthomeand...”
“Whencanweseeher?” IrepeatedZelda’squestion,staringstraightintoDr.
Silver’seyes.
Dr.Silverlookedalittlewary,likeImightbopherontheheadifshedidn’t
answerme.
“You can check with admissions at Parkview Hospital and they’ll tell you what room she’ll be in. Your grandma’s a very lovely lady,” Dr. Silver added, andheadedbacktowardheroffice.
“WHEN CAN WE SEE HER?” I called out again so loudly that the woman
withthetexturedstockingsdroppedher GoodHousekeeping.
“Checkwithadmissions,”wasallDr.Silverechoed,andthenshedisappeared
intothecorridor.
Zelda and I stood like idiots in the middle of the waiting room. We really didn’t know what to do. Everything seemed okay, but it felt strange to have walkedinwithMissApplebaumandthenseeherrolledout.
“Quick,let’s go!”IsaidtoZelda.
Igrabbedherhandandpulledhertowardtheswingingdoors.
“You can’t go that way!” the receptionist called out. “You have to walk aroundtothehospital....”
Before anyone could stop us, we were running down a ramp that led
undergroundintoamind-bogglingnetworkofpassagesconnectingthemedical
arts building to Parkview Hospital. It was impossible to tell which of the passagewaystheorderlyhadtakenMissApplebaumdown.Letmesaynowthat
thesightsZeldaandIsawundergroundwerequitesomething.Theymade Alice
inWonderland looklikealark.Itwasawholebizarreworlddownthere,with nurses and doctors and orderlies pushing patients on gurneys and all sorts of wheeledgadgets.Wesawalotofdeliverymenandkitchenworkersandstorage
roomswithdoorsajar.Oneoildeliverymanwaswalkingrightinfrontofus,and
hehad“TANKSALOT”embroideredinbiglettersonthebackofhisoveralls.
There was a sign that said “TO ALL BUILDINGS AND PAVILIONS,” so we
followed that passageway until we came to another one with blue, red, and yellow along the walls. I figured this was a color code to get people from one placetoanother,butIdidn’tunderstanditatfirst.Averyoldladythesizeofa leprechaun was wheeled by, wearing eyeglasses with very thick lenses. She looked very sick. All the trash cans in the passageways had signs with freaky faces that said “PITCH IN,” and at every bend there was a large convex lens hangingfromtheceilingsopeoplerushingfromoneplacetoanothercouldsee
what was coming to avoid a crash. Across from a department marked
“RADIOLOGY”wasahugecafeteriathesizeofafootballfield.Itsmelledlike
they were cooking kangaroo burgers and horse-meat stew, and its decor was evenmoredepressingthantheoneatAndrewJacksonHigh.Wefinallyfounda
sign that showed what all the stripes meant. It indicated where places like CASHIER, CT SCAN, EMERGENCY, KLINEBERG PAVILION, PHARMACY,
REHABILITATION, AMBULATORY SURGERY, and all sorts of other places
were.ZeldaandIdecidedtofollowthelight-bluestripebecauseitwassupposed
to be the MAIN CORRIDOR. We figured that had to take us eventually to somethingthatwouldlooklikethemainlobbyofthehospital,andfromtherewe
couldfindoutwhatroomMissApplebaumwouldendupin.
“We’llfindher,”Isaid.
“It’saveryfinehospital,”Zeldasaid,wantingtobelieveit.
“Itreallyis,”Iagreed.
I guess we both knew deep down that it was just plain common sense that Miss Applebaum had to be examined. We stopped to catch our breath at a bulletin board that had a picture of one of the hospital workers called Phyllis Mook. “Phyllis Mook, nursing,” a notice said. “Phyllis has proved to be an excellent role model for new employees. She readily and generously offers assistance,andablyandefficientlycarriesoutherduties.”Anditwassignedby her supervisor. Zelda remarked that it was really a very nice way to provide employeeincentivebyhavingaWorkeroftheWeekexhibit,andPhyllisMook
didlookverypleasant.
After about another ten minutes of peeking in and out of all sorts of departments filled with laboratory equipment, we found the main lobby by taking an elevator up one flight. The GIFT SHOP, regular WAITING ROOM,
“RELATIVESOFSURGICALPATIENTS”WAITINGROOM,andtheADMISSIONS
OFFICEwererightthere.Thisareawasextremelycleanandmodern,andIhadto admirethatstraightoff.ItevenhadIN-HOUSEPHONESliketheyhaveindeluxe
four-starhotels,andIpickeduponephonemarkedINFORMATION.Inlessthan
fiveseconds,amelodiouslady’svoicecameonandaskedhowshecouldhelp.I
asked her if she knew what room Alice Applebaum would be in, and she said 19Drightoffthebat,butshealsoaddedthatvisitinghourswereonlybetween
sixandeightP.M.I thanked her very much and then immediately pulled Zelda intoanelevatorandpressed19.IhadnointentionofwaitinguntilsixP.M.and
thoughtwe’dprobablyfindMissApplebaumintheroomputtingonsomekind
ofwhitegownthehospitalwouldgiveherforthetests.Ireallydidn’tknowwhat to expect, but I was glad no doctors or official-looking persons got into the elevatorandtriedtostopus.
Everything was fantastically luxurious in the elevator. Shiny brass. Red rug.<
br />
Eventheemergencyphonecompartmentwasartistic.Itfeltlikeweweregoing
upintheSherryNetherlandHotel.Andwhenthedooropenedonthenineteenth
floor, we were really pleased. Zelda and I stepped out into one of the most tastefulhallwayswe’deverseen.Theairsmelledlikedelicateflowers,andthere wasexpensiveartallovertheplace.Originaloilpaintingsandnumberedprints
linedthewalls,andthereweresculpturespracticallyeverytwenty-fivefeetwith special modern works under glass. It didn’t look like a hospital. It had an extremelychicwaitingroomjustforthenineteenth-floorvisitors.Andeventhe
room directory itself was unobtrusively wrought, providing clear directions to 19D.Therewereafewfashionablyattiredpatientsstrollingaboutliketheywere
inaprivategarden,andwedidn’tseeagruesomesightanywhere.Ofcourse,the
hallwaywasaboutablocklongandafewnursescouldbeseengoingfromroom
toroominthedistance.Asitturnedout,Room19Dwasrightnearanexquisite
nurses’station,butnobodystoppedusfromgoingintotheroom.Naturally,I’ll
havetoadmitIwaiteduntilallthenurseswerelookinginadifferentdirection
because I always think it’s better to be safe than sorry. I didn’t want them to enforcethevisitinghoursnowthatweweresoclose.
ZeldaandIliterallygaspedwhenwesawtheinsideof19D.
Itwassplendiferous.
Itwasfantastic.
It looked like a heavenly place to take a rest. Everything was so spectacular that the last thing we noticed was the bed. The first thing that took our breath awaywasahugepicturewindowofCentralPark.Werushedtothewallofglass
andknewthatMissApplebaumwouldbejoyouswhenshesawit.Youcouldsee thewholeCentralParkreservoir,andtothesouthwereallthewonderfulspots
MissApplebaumhadshownus.Wecouldevenseehalfofthetoyboatpondand
MissApplebaum’sfavoritebenchontheknoll.Ofcourse,itwasverysmallin
thedistance,butitwastherenevertheless.Thewindowmadeourspiritsfeellike wecouldjustflyoutovertheparkandaboveanyproblemstherecouldpossibly
beintheworld.Theroomwasunbelievablylarge,andshapedlikeagargantuan
thickcheesewedge.Itwasasuite!Ithadonedoorleadingtoaprivatespacious
bathroom that looked like it was out of House & Garden. There was even a separatealcovewithaveryimpressivespotlesspetitekitchenincludingitsown
microwaveoven.Thebedwasassoftandwhiteasagoose,andithadadazzling
matchingchromesidetableandbedstand.Thewallpaperwasaskyblueandthe
rugwassoplush,itfeltlikefeathers.
I closed the room door just enough so if one of the nurses passed by, they wouldn’t throw us out, then checked the color TV and all the control switches including one that made the fabulous bed move into all sorts of positions and heights. We were filled with hope. And everything we wanted for Miss
Applebaum was there. There wasn’t a chance anyone could die in a room like this. It took us over twenty minutes to check out everything, and when Miss Applebaum hadn’t arrived by then, I just called downstairs on the streamlined color-coordinatedphone.
“It usually takes at least two hours for a new patient to finish the entrance examination,” the operator kindly informed me. Her voice sounded so vibrant and caring, she made it sound like Miss Applebaum was being admitted to a countryclub.
“Twohours,”ItoldZelda.
“What’llwedo?”Zeldawantedtoknow.
“Goshopping!”Isaid.
IknewZeldagottheidea,becauseshebeatmeoutoftheroom,andinaflash
wewereinthewondrouselevatorheadingbackdowntothemainlobby.Imight
aswelltellyourightnowthatthesecurityatParkviewHospitalwaszilch.We
walkedrightbydoctorsandnurses,andtheonlysecurityguardwasonthefirst
floor. Not a single person asked us what we were doing. I suppose if we were trying to leave with an IBM typewriter or a thousand-pound Xerox machine, they might say something, but I could see we’d have no trouble coming and going. Actually, all we did was go out the Fifth Avenue exit and around the
corner to Madison Avenue, which is the section where we always read that Jackie Kennedy Onassis and other philanthropists go shopping. Zelda and I wanted to buy a few things for Miss Applebaum’s room so it’d be even more delicious and appealing than it was. I had almost forty dollars and Zelda had taken out a hundred dollars from her savings account. My parents were giving me twenty a week for the “course” I was taking, and Zelda still had a few hundred left in the bank from when she worked in the Metropolitan Opera’s children’s chorus. The kids in the chorus got paid only ten dollars for each rehearsalandperformance,butZeldawasinthreetelevisedversionsofoperas,
which paid three hundred and fifteen dollars each. Whatever, we both were preparedtospendeverypennywehadifitwouldhelpMissApplebaum.
The first thing we noticed about Madison Avenue on the block right behind thehospitalwasthattherewasanexcessivenumberoffloristsandpharmacies.I
had never stopped to think that such stores would be natural in any hospital districtbecauseeverybodybuysflowersandtoiletriesforsickpeople.Ittookus almostanhourtoshop,buttheitemsweboughtforMissApplebaumwere:1)a
bowl of germinating narcissus bulbs, also called “white pepper,” from the Bloomin’Fineflorist;2)ajarofVitabath,threelilacsoaps,andabottleofMaja perfume from Jerome’s Drugstore; 3) a box of chocolate fudge, one bag of pistachionuts,andaselectionofCôted’OrCandiesfromTheChocolatier;4)a
banana cake from Sarabeth’s Kitchen; 5) a marble cheesecake from Miss
Grimble’s;and6)aJacksonHolehamburgertogo,incaseMissApplebaumwas
hungry.Wealsogotourselveseachahamburger,butateitontheJacksonHole
premises.ThenweboughtafewmoreitemswethoughtMissApplebaumwould
getakickoutof,includingadeckofcardsfromPennyWhistleToys,acopyof
Eat Your Way to Health from The Book Nook, and a moisturizer from the Dorchester Dermatology Shop, which had a big sign in its window that said it offered “a new wrinkle in quality skin care.” We just wanted to make certain Miss Applebaum would have a few snacks and basic necessities to get her started,andthenwe’dgetherwhatevershereallywanted.Wehadalltheshops
gift wrap everything so it was very festive, and we ended up getting an entire fruit basket from Tom’s Thai Fruit Market. We had so much stuff, we could hardly walk back to the hospital. There we just marched right by the security guard on the first floor, who was so busy talking to a pulchritudinous candy striperthathedidn’tevenseeus.Wecouldhavebeencarryinginabazookaand
he wouldn’t have known it. It’s no wonder you always read about hospitals getting ripped off. Any personnel that did see us just smiled and admired our
armfulsofgreatgifts.
Wemadeitintothesamebeautifulelevatorasbeforeandwentstraightupto
19D.Theroomwasemptyagainandjustasstrikingasbefore.Inawaywewere
glad we got back before Miss Applebaum, because it gave us the chance to arrange the flowers, fruit, and presents so that the room looked extrao
rdinarily tempting.Wemovedthepositionofthewhitepeppersandfruitbasketabouta
dozentimesbeforewefeltwehadeverythingintheperfectposition.AndI’dbe
lyingifIdidn’tadmitZeldaandIeachsampledaCôted’Orchocolatewhilewe
waited. But that’s what we did. We waited and waited and Miss Applebaum didn’tshowup.However,anursedid.
“What are you doing here?” the nurse asked. She didn’t sound nasty. Only curious.
“We’rewaitingforMissApplebaum,”Isaid.
“Idon’tunderstand,”thenursesaid.
“ThisisMissApplebaum’sroom.She’sanewpatient.”
“Theremustbesomemistake,”thenursesaid.“ThisroomisreservedforMrs.
Remington.”
ZeldaandIdidn’tquiteknowwhattosay,butthenursepickedupthephone
andcalleddownstairs.Asitturnedout,whoeverwasonpatientinformationhad
made a mistake by telling us Miss Applebaum was going to be in 19D. Either thatorwehadheardwrong.
“Alice Applebaum is in Nine D,” the nurse clarified. “I’m sorry,” she said, soundinglikeshereallymeantit.
Likeshereally, really meantit.
ZeldaandIweresorry,too.Allwecoulddowasgatherupallthegiftsandget
backintheelevator.Wethought9Dmightbejustasnicearoom,andmaybeit
would even have a better view of the park. Miss Applebaum might even like being on a lower floor, because then she could see the faces better on children andeverybodyelseinthepark.ButIsupposeweknewthatwasn’tgoingtobe
thecasethemomentwesteppedoutoftheelevatorontotheninthfloor.There
was no art on the walls on the ninth floor. There were no sculptures and no luxuriousloungingarea.Whattherewaswere wards.Wefollowedabigblack arrow that indicated which way to turn for 9D and moved slowly down the corridor.ZeldaandIcouldhardlybeartolookineachwardaswepassedthem.
WhatIremembermostwasglimpsingoxygentanksandordinarysinksandold
sickpeople.Thenursesandorderlieswerescurryingbackandforthandnoneof themsoundedmellifluous.