Profession

Drama in the asylum

I went back to work the next day without enthusiasm, but I wasn't quitting now. After staff meeting, I did the medicine delivery to the patients, wanting to get back on that horse (so to speak, I never wanted to get back on another real horse). I worked with a different partner, and not unexpectedly, there were no more bodies to be found. The suicide had worked up other patients, though, and word about it had spread although how it was done was still confidential, apparently. All we didn't need were more patients rummaging around in their mattresses. One patient startled the nurse when he slapped the clear wall. The nurse jerked back, the patient laughed, and the nurse curtly handed over the medication, the patient showing that he'd taken it. "I know our patients are mentally ill, but they can be real assholes," the nurse muttered when he returned to the cart, and I nodded.

After that, I was kept busy helping transfer patients to private therapy with the asylum doctors, and that took me up to lunch. After that, it was back downstairs. I cleared out two rooms; the trash and recyclables were removed each night, so at least I wasn't dodging piles of refuse in the corridors. I started to transfer the files from the cabinets to the boxes; there were some filing cabinets in several rooms, but not all, and no room had a lot of the filing cabinets. The files were mostly thick and heavy, and not all pages were secured in the files. I dropped one and cursed as I tracked down all the pages. I stopped mid-swear when I glanced at one of the pages as I neatly returned it to the file. Apparently Dr Strange had worked here before the Return; these were case notes along with personal notes. The name of the Joker popped up, and I quickly sorted out the personal notes, leaving the case files intact, for as many of Strange's files as I could locate. I folded them and tucked them inside my uniform, boxing everything else up. Then I put the boxes on the cart and started clearing out another room. The elevator door opened and I stuck my head out. It was Dr Strange. Unfortunately not Alex's dad, the other one. Hugo. Unusual; most employees avoided down here like the plague. He smiled slightly when he saw me.

"Ah, Nurse. I was told that pre-Return files were down here. Dr Valentin was a patient here once before," he said.

"There are a lot of files," I said. "I've been taking them upstairs, but there's a cartful right there, and there are more in three more rooms. As far as I can tell, the remaining rooms just have junk in them," I said pleasantly. He nodded.

"I haven't been able to locate the pertinent files upstairs. Do you mind if I sort through the ones on your cart?"

"Not at all."

"I'll take them upstairs," he decided. "It's rather dark down here. I'll return the boxes and the cart to the records section when I'm done. And it you see any files from this time period, please let me know." He rattled off a range of years. So old.

"That would be great," I said brightly. "But I don't actually look at the files, it would slow me down, I'm just transferring them from filing cabinets to the boxes. I could start, though, and if you'd like, I can deliver any that I find to you."

"No, that's fine," he said, seeming a little more relaxed by my lie, and he smiled again, the expression quickly sliding off his face as he pushed the cart to the elevator. I went back into the room but kept alert until I heard the elevator doors close again. I peeked out, but the doctor was really gone. I finished clearing out that room and went up to records, letting them know that Dr Strange had taken the day's boxes to look through.

"Fine with me," the secretary said. "We've still got a lot to do from yesterday's batch."

"The end's in sight," I tried to be encouraging. "Three more rooms worth." She sighed, and I thought that she wasn't as excited by that as she could be. After that, I had a second mandatory session with a psychiatrist to make sure that I was handling the suicide ok, and that ended with him judging that I was processing it acceptably, and I was told to ask for help if it started to bother me. To finish out my day, I helped transfer a couple more patients to the infirmary; it looked like we were having some kind of pneumonia outbreak, which was weird because none of the staff had it. Angie was waiting in the staff room when our shift came in to clock out, and told us that an investigation was beginning to determine how the pneumonia was being spread. We all took disposable testing devices, labeled them with our names, and blew into them. They'd be incubated for a couple of hours, then read. If any of us was developing it or was a carrier, we'd know and could be treated. I changed out of my uniform in the changing cubbies provided for those who liked privacy, sticking the notes in the bottom of my purse, walked out over the bridge with my coworkers, and got into my pod. When I changed my pod colors in the trees, I also took the pages out for a look, and I made a call.