Indulgent (EN)

Chapter 3

Amelia

2021

There was a time when I couldn't stand my name. My parents had shown their creativity by choosing an unfamiliar, foreign name for me instead of something common like Masha or Nastya. Back then, I had never heard anyone my age with the name. Nowadays, this is not so rare — more parents opt for European or American names for their children, trying to make them stand out. Now there are Rodions, Nazars, Vasilisas, and even Tsaritsas. But in my childhood, I was a target for mockery because my name sounded unusual.

One random memory: I was lying on the couch, crying because no Ukrainian celebrity shared the name Amelia, which meant it was unpopular. My mom comforted me, saying that when I turned sixteen and got my passport, I could change my name to whatever I wanted. Spoiler: when the time came, I didn't, because no name suited me as much as Amelia.

What annoyed me the most was when people shortened or distorted my name. For instance, calling me Mila or even Milka, as if I were the cow from the famous chocolate brand.

"Mila, could you please share your anatomy notes?" asked Sasha, one of my classmates, stretching out the word "please" and putting her hands together as if in prayer.

I winced. She ignored my requests to call me Amelia.

"Of course, no problem, Shu-u-ura," I replied with a sly smirk, deliberately echoing her nickname.

Sasha pursed her lips but said nothing — she really needed those notes and might have taken them herself if she'd shown up for class.

December was drawing to a close, and exam season was approaching. I was practically drowning in textbooks, trying to keep up with studying and my hospital internship. The lack of sleep was terrible; shadows under my eyes had become permanent, and it seemed like there was no end in sight. Although the exams were easier than previous challenges — after all, I was already in my residency — I still had mountains of information to absorb and a hospital work report to prepare.

After class, I met up with Danya, and we went to the university café, which was always crowded with students. We found an open table and ordered coffee and croissants.

"Can you believe it? One of my patients proposed to me today," Danya said, her eyes sparkling behind her oversized square glasses.

"I hope he was tall and muscular, and you said yes," I laughed.

"Oh no, he was old, and I was changing his diaper at the time!" Danya snorted.

"Ew, gross! Patients should either be asleep or out of their minds during those moments to avoid awkwardness."

"Exactly! I didn't even know what to say. I just smiled and patted his hand until a nurse came to chat with him, and I quietly slipped away." Danya sighed. "And what about you? Anything new?"

"Not really. Recently, I got a box of chocolates, though I don't know why it was given to me and not to Dr. Anatoliy Viktorovich, who actually treated the patient. I just talked to her and reassured her before the surgery, while the doctor did all the hard work."

"How don't you get it? People love being heard. And you do that brilliantly: you ask the right questions and make people feel important. That's why they remember you. I'm sure there's more in store for you than just mountains of chocolate, maybe even some brandy," Danya said with a smile. I paused, realizing I'd never thought of listening as a talent.

"Why do people always give doctors brandy? It's such an outdated custom! I'd prefer a Kit-Kat. And if it's alcohol, then definitely an Aperol!"

"Really? With so many cool cocktails out there, you drink Aperol?" Danya looked outraged. "I think we need to check out that new cocktail bar in Podil. I saw it on Instagram; it's cheap, and they have a huge selection. How about Saturday?"