Dr. Russell looked at her, compassion on his face. “You’re most welcome. Now, let’s spend a few minutes getting to know each other. Would you each please state your name, where you’re from, and what made you decide to go into nursing?”
As the girls introduced themselves, Jeanette made an effort to memorize what they said, but after a few minutes, she realized it would probably take her several days to be able to call each person by the right name. There was too much to remember. Then it was her turn.
“I’m Jeanette Anderson, and I’m from Topeka, Kansas. It’s quite a long ways from here, nearly on the edge of civilization—or at least, that’s what it feels like sometimes.” She chuckled, but felt like her joke had fallen flat, so she pressed on. “And what brought me to nursing . . .” It was difficult to put it into words. “I had the opportunity to help our local doctor with a difficult case, and we ended up saving the patient’s leg even though he had a compound fracture. That experience made me curious as to what other medical miracles could be performed, and I wanted to be a part of it. There was something . . . magical about it, I guess you could say, watching the body respond to treatment and heal itself.”
She glanced up and noticed Dr. Russell watching her, a curious expression on his face. He must think she was prone to using her imagination far too much. The other girls finished their introductions, and then Mrs. Everett brought around dessert. Jeanette wished she could take back what she’d said and give a more scientific answer.
After the meal, Dr. Russell dismissed the girls to unpack, as their luggage had arrived from the various hotels and the train station. As Jeanette was leaving the dining room, he called out to her.
“A word, Miss Anderson.”
She turned on her heel, her eyes downcast. What could he want now? Surely calling on her in front of all the other girls was enough attention for one day.
“Of all the students here, Miss Anderson, I see the most potential in you. I mentioned that I’d be holding you to a high standard—that’s only because you are up to the challenge.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, bringing her gaze up to meet his. “I do want to learn everything I can while I’m here.”
“And Miss Cantrell and I will do everything we can to help. Now, be off with you before your roommate takes up all the wardrobe space.”
She smiled at this unexpected bit of humor and climbed the stairs to the room she shared with Sophie.
Jeanette hadn’t brought much with her to New York. Everything she owned fit into one small trunk. She was able to unpack within a few minutes, and then gave Sophie a hand with all her many boxes, dresses, and hats. She’d gotten the impression that Sophie came from more limited means, but this was most certainly evidence to the contrary.
Once the girls had finished their unpacking, Miss Cantrell told them they could spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the street where they lived. They were to be back in time for supper, and they were expected to go to bed early so they could be ready for their training the next morning.
The girls quickly put on their hats and gloves, making their way out onto the sidewalk like another chattering flock of birds. Jeanette found herself in the back of the flock next to Sophie and Millie. Millie was a quiet girl, probably one of the oldest in the group. Jeanette tried to remember what the girl had said about herself over their noontime meal. She seemed to recall that she came from Vermont.
“When do you think we’ll get the opportunity to start treating patients?” Sophie asked, anticipation in her voice.
“Not for a while, I hope,” Millie said. “I’d be happy to spend all my time reading books and discussing the theory and never having to touch a patient at all.”
“But isn’t your father a doctor?” Sophie turned to their new friend, surprise written all over her face. “I would think that you’d be more than eager to get to work.”
“You’d think that, wouldn’t you? But no—if anything, my father’s profession has made me even more squeamish. I’ve worked in his office for the last three years, and I’ve seen cases come in that have given me nightmares. Of course, I’m not a terribly strong-stomached person to begin with, but I really believe that this line of work isn’t for me.”
“So you’re only here to make your father happy?” Sophie asked.
“It was either this or go live with my awful great-aunt Stella, who talks endlessly about her arthritis and wants liniment rubbed into her feet by the hour,” Millie replied with a shudder.
Jeanette was only partially listening to their conversation. Her attention was focused on the beautiful homes and buildings that surrounded them, the horses and carriages that passed, and the elegant fashions of the people strolling up and down the street. She had known she was a simple girl from a simple place, but now being out on the actual streets of New York and feeling the vibrations in the atmosphere, it was driven home to her how very different she was. A few of the other girls seemed born for this kind of life. Their dresses and their hairstyles seemed to blend in. Jeanette knew she was far from blending in, and she didn’t know if she wanted to.
“So, Jeanette,” one of the girls said, waiting for her to catch up on the sidewalk. “You seem to be Dr. Russell’s favorite already, and we haven’t even started class yet. How on earth did you manage it?”
“I’m not his favorite,” Jeanette protested. “I met him just today, the same as everyone.”
“Well, you certainly did something to gain his favor.”
“Hush, Meg,” Sophie said, looping her arm through Jeanette’s. “You have no reason to be so unkind. Didn’t you see how embarrassed Jeanette was at lunch? She didn’t do anything to call Dr. Russell’s attention to herself, and she was ever so relieved when he changed the subject.”
Jeanette didn’t think anyone had noticed her discomfort. She wished it had been less obvious, but at the same time, she was so glad Sophie could speak up in her defense.
Meg pressed her lips together. “Very well. But we should all be treated as equals, and if I find that Dr. Russell is giving her preference over the rest of us, I’ll let my father know, and he’ll shut down this little experimental schooling program before any of you can blink.”
“And how can he do that?” Sophie asked, defiance in her voice.
“He’s a judge here in New York City, a very influential judge with a great many powerful friends.” Meg adjusted the ribbons on her hat. “I’m sure he’d be interested to hear anything I have to say.”
Sophie put her hands on her hips. “You’re angry because you think Dr. Russell is showing favoritism to Jeanette, and you want to solve that problem by asking your father to show favoritism to you? Come now, Meg. You can’t twist the rules to suit your own purposes.”
Jeanette was thoroughly embarrassed. All the girls had gathered around, and passersby were looking at them curiously. She couldn’t believe what a spectacle they were making of themselves, and all because of her. “It’s all right,” she said, tugging on Sophie’s elbow. “Let’s enjoy the rest of our walk.”
Sophie seemed undecided, but then she broke her defensive stance and turned to Jeanette. “Very well,” she said brightly. “This is far too nice a day to waste on such silly things anyway.”
After another hour spent wandering around the neighborhood, Jeanette was more than ready to head back to Dr. Russell’s house and prepare for dinner. Mrs. Everett had prepared a very nice pot roast, complete with carrots, potatoes, and onions. The dinner rolls were even better than Miss Hampton’s, and Jeanette wondered if she should feel guilty about having that thought. As delicious as the food might be, however, it didn’t wash away the sour taste left in her mouth from that afternoon’s altercation with Meg. Thank goodness Sophie had been there to take her side.
The evening was spent in the parlor with the other girls, chitchatting about this, that, and the other thing. Jeanette sat quietly, not feeling as though she had much to contribute to the conversation. This wasn’t unusual—she often f
elt like an outsider, looking in on others as if through a pane of thickly frosted glass, mostly by her own choosing. She had built up walls inside herself as a protection against the harsh realities of the world around her, and accepting friendship or love meant letting those walls down. That was a risk she was all too infrequently willing to take.
As Jeanette lay in bed that night, watching the shadows of the leaves dance across her bedroom ceiling, listening to Sophie lightly snore, she made a vow to herself. She would not let herself get swept up in homesickness. She would not spend her time pining away for Phillip, and she would not waste a single moment of this opportunity.
Chapter Three
Mrs. Everett bustled around the dining room, dishing up eggs and toast. Jeanette had formed an instant liking for this woman with her no-nonsense ways. “Eat, eat,” Mrs. Everett said as she passed around a platter of bacon. “From what I overheard, the doctor and Miss Cantrell have quite the day planned for you, and you’ll need your energy.”
“I hope it’s not rolling bandages,” Millie said, staring at her plate. “I hate rolling bandages.”
“Oh, come now.” Mrs. Everett gave her a disapproving look. “Anyone can roll bandages. I’m sure they have something much more exciting for your first lesson.”
The girls ate, then carried their dishes into the kitchen. After making sure their aprons were tidy and their collars straight, they met up with Miss Cantrell in the parlor, who took a moment to inspect them.
“Very nice,” she said as she walked down the line. “A nurse’s appearance should always be neat and clean. She inspires confidence in the patient. A slovenly nurse would make a patient feel uncomfortable, as though her care were not a serious matter.” She turned and addressed the group. “You will find that as you go through your day, your apron will become spotted. You must change it as soon as you are able, and you must never wear a bloody apron in the hallways. Remove it before you exit the room, and if necessary, roll it into a bundle and carry it in your hand until you reach the laundry. Other doctors you work for may not care, but Dr. Russell is very insistent about this, so while you are here, be mindful.”
“Bloody aprons?” Millie said in a murmur. “I don’t think I want to wear bloody aprons.”
“It’s all right,” Sophie said. “We’ll get used to it.”
“Now let’s move on. The first thing we’re going to do today is roll bandages. While a menial task, it’s a necessary one, and every nurse needs to know how. First, we’ll start by tearing the fabric into strips.”
Jeanette tried not to smile as she glanced over at Millie. It just wasn’t the girl’s day.
The girls tore fabric and rolled bandages for an hour, and then Miss Cantrell asked them to be seated in the north sitting area of the room.
“As you know, Woman’s Hospital treats female complaints,” she began. “We will begin your training in this area with a discussion of how the reproductive system works, and what issues can arise during pregnancy and childbirth. Those are the complaints you are most likely to assist Dr. Russell with, as those are his specialty.”
By the time the noon hour arrived, Jeanette’s mind was whirling. At first, she’d been embarrassed and surprised to hear such things discussed so openly. But she quickly overcame that embarrassment as she reminded herself that she was entering the medical field, where one couldn’t be embarrassed about any aspect of the human body. If she was going to be squeamish, she had chosen the wrong career.
The lesson was fascinating, and yet a harsh blow at the same time. So many things could go wrong during birth—so many things that could kill the lives of both the mother and child, or could injure the mother in ways that would make her miserable the rest of her life. Miss Cantrell had promised to tell them about the ways those things could be fixed during their next session, which would be after lunch. Jeanette was eager for that part of the class. There had to be a way to prevent or fix these issues, and she wouldn’t feel settled until she knew what they were.
“I’m never having children,” Meg proclaimed as they sat down at the table.
“Oh, come now,” Mrs. Everett said as she placed a basket of bread between two of the girls. “You say that today, but before long, you’ll meet some handsome man, and all you’ll be able to think about is making a home and having a family.”
“I don’t think so. Not after everything we just talked about.”
“Has Miss Cantrell been filling your heads full of nightmares?” asked a deep voice from the doorway. The girls turned to see that Dr. Russell had entered the dining room and was standing there with an amused expression on his face.
“We were discussing the reproductive system, childbirth, and possible negative outcomes, just as we decided,” Miss Cantrell replied from near the head of the table.
“Excellent. I hope you students are prepared to listen to me drone on for hours this afternoon about treatments and surgeries. Mrs. Everett has made us a fine stew, and nothing puts me more in the mood to deliver a lecture than a good lunch.”
***
Jeanette couldn’t sleep that night. She had been completely enraptured by Dr. Russell’s lecture. It was incredible to her that with a scalpel and a bit of thread, tissues that had been torn could be brought back together again and encouraged to heal, and after hearing Dr. Russell talk about the surgeries he performed on a daily basis, she was even more amazed. What would they discover next to reduce human suffering in the world?
After trying for an hour to sleep, she finally got up, put on her robe, and went downstairs to the parlor. She had seen some paper and pens on a desk in that room, and she wanted to tell Phillip everything she’d been learning. As she lifted the pen, however, she realized the difficulty of relaying every detail. Instead, she told him about their course of study for that day, and assured him that she was well and happy.
After tucking the letter in the pocket of her robe to be mailed the next day, she stood to leave the parlor and noticed a light coming from the kitchen. Curious, she followed it to find Mrs. Everett there making bread.
“Mrs. Everett, don’t you ever sleep?” Jeanette asked, sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.
“Oh, I sleep. But only for an hour or two at a time. That’s one thing about getting old that no one tells you. Sleep is a precious commodity, one that should never be taken for granted. What brings you down here at this time of night, young lady?”
“I can’t sleep either. It’s this curious combination of excitement and fear. I learned about so many incredible things today, but it’s all very well and good to discuss things in the abstract. To actually do those things is entirely different.” Jeanette sighed and leaned her elbow on the table. “I stumbled into nursing, you know. I happened to be the one on hand when Dr. Wayment needed an assistant. If someone else had gone in my stead, perhaps I’d still be at the hotel right now and someone else would be here. Wouldn’t that be an awful thing, to miss out on a whole life’s path because you didn’t take the chance when you were given it?”
“That would be awful indeed.” Mrs. Everett gave the bread dough another thump and then threw a clean kitchen towel over it. “Let me get you some bread and butter. That might help you sleep—or at the very least, turn off that brain of yours. You’re likely to overtax yourself with all that thinking.”
She had just turned to the cutting board when rapid knocking sounded at the door. “Oh, dear,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron as she walked toward the entryway. “That’s never good.”
When Mrs. Everett opened the door, Jeanette heard a male voice echo through the foyer. “Dr. Russell is needed at the hospital immediately. Mrs. Clark.”
“Of course. I’ll fetch him at once.” Mrs. Everett closed the door, then hurried through the kitchen and down a short hallway Jeanette hadn’t noticed before, as it stood in shadow. “Dr. Russell!” the housekeeper called out, tapping on the door. “Doctor?”
The door opened. “Yes, Mrs. Everett?”
; “You’re needed. Mrs. Clark.”
“Has Miss Cantrell been summoned?”
“I’m on my way.”
The door closed again, and Mrs. Everett bustled back through the kitchen and up the main staircase. Jeanette sat there awkwardly, feeling very much in the way, but far too curious to take herself up to bed where she should be.
Not a minute had passed before the doctor came out of his room, fully dressed, and paused in the kitchen to pour himself a mug of coffee. Miss Cantrell came downstairs shortly after that, also ready to go.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“It’s Mrs. Clark.”
“Oh, dear. I’d hoped this wouldn’t be necessary.”
“Who is Mrs. Clark?” Jeanette asked, hoping she wasn’t intruding.
“A patient we’ve been worried about for the last few days. It looks as though our concerns were warranted.” Dr. Russell set his mug down and turned to leave, but then paused.
“Would you like to join us, Miss Anderson?”
Jeanette blinked. “Me, sir?” Was he really inviting her to observe a procedure after only one day of class? “I’d like that very much,” she said at last.
Dr. Russell turned to Miss Cantrell. “Wait here for the girl while she changes and follow me over. I’ll be in the surgery.”
Miss Cantrell nodded. “We’ll be there shortly.”
Jeanette raced up the stairs and changed as quickly as she could. Her fingers felt twice their normal size, and she fumbled the laces repeatedly. Not only were her nerves slowing her down, but she didn’t want to wake Sophie, so she was dressing in the dark. After what felt like forever, but was in reality only a moment, she ran back down the stairs to where Miss Cantrell waited by the door.
“You were quick,” the nurse said approvingly. “Let’s go.”
“What’s wrong with the patient?” Jeanette asked as they let themselves out of the front of the house. She heard the click of a lock as Mrs. Everett closed up behind them.
“Mrs. Clark came to us three days ago with excessive bleeding,” Miss Cantrell replied. “Dr. Russell tried several different treatments, but it would appear that surgery is our only option now.”
Sea of Strangers (Nurses of New York Book 1) Page 3
