<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=51705.msg2417311#msg2417311">Quote from: Gami on 05-11-2009, 12:43:54</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><em>If you asked me when I first began to study to be a nurse, "where will you be working?", the last place I could've imagined was this place.<br/><br/>You don't hear about this place unless someone tells you about it. I suppose it's fate. An internship at one place, and then a doctor discovers you. You begin to talk, you learn that the doctor is only a guest member of the staff. Six months later, I get the job offer. The pay is relatively better than the other nurse positions in the other hospitals.<br/><br/>"But you have to keep an open mind," he had said. "We often forget that the human mind and the human soul needs healing, too... are you willing to truly help those in need of such healing?"</em><br/><br/>Adele continued to work with Billie, feeling something not unlike a jolt of joy when she saw - and heard - that the helpless patient was possibly enjoying this, and it was something that Adele found reassuring. The final strokes ended with a gasp - she wasn't sure if it had been Billie or she who had gasped - and the dull white fluids that came out ran down her fingers. She knew the feeling - somewhat sticky and warm. She smiled again and looked at Billie, who seemed even more relaxed than before. Doctor Beauford's face almost beamed, it seemed, despite the tears that had found their way out of her eyes.<br/><br/>Adele retrieved a few tissues and wiped her hands. She then proceeded to clean Billie's groin and the surrounding area. She smiled at the patient and his doctor, and got up and washed her hands at the nearby sink. Yet another patient. As she washed her hands, she realized that her blood was flowing a bit faster than usual. She felt almost... flustered. She looked at Doctor Beauford, who was busy with helping Billie. She turned her head to the sink again, and dried her hands. She refused to look in the mirror. She coul never look at herself when she felt... this way.<br/><br/><em>It's all about my work. I devote it all to my job, to please others. I don't really have time with myself, do I? But it's better this way. How could I go back now, anyway? A normal life? I belong here. I like it here. It's better here. Much better.</em><br/><br/>She smiled to herself and decided to look at the mirror. <em>Next patient, please.</em><br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/><br/><br/>PATIENT ROOM 87, afternoon and evening<br/><br/>They shared a few more words with Adele, quiet words of gratitute from Elisabeth's side, kind and humble words of joy -they both felt- from the nurse's -then they parted. Johnston got busy with other issues and Beth began the daily procedure of bathing, clothing and feeding with Billie. Many times she was wondering if her father would ever understand this, but she knew, latest when she'll be the only person in charge for this boy, she'll<em>have</em>to speak about all this with him.<br/>Somehow she could never get tired or bored with these simple tasks. Being a mother, even if it was a motherhood with bitter overtones, was a blessing for her, one she treasured, one she protected from any negativity. At least Raiga was one hundred percent on her side. And accepted that many times she spent extra hours here, because she didn't want to miss something that could be important in Billie's life, or because she simply wished to be longer with him.<br/><br/>Though Beth didn't know much about Bill Meyer's sexual life, her heart was reassured that they did everything which was possible in his current condition to bring such sensations to him with dignity. Now that this 'porblem' was overcome they could drift to more easy, more cheerful waters, literally, as a pleasantly warm bath with LOTS of foam was a thing that surely made their boy laugh, come what may. Plus Elisabeth was always open for a little splish splash, sitting next to the tub, stirring and blowing the clouds of bubble bath for him. Many times she also sang for him, simple songs of clear, repeating ticks, hitting the surface according to the pace - doctos and books said it has a very good effect. Music and rythm - one of the best therapies, so she used it frequently. Her voice and songs was something that accompanied this patient since the first weeks, when he was lying motionless in deep coma, it was the one doctor Beauford and another, highly spiritual neurologist who didn't give up on him and tried to see other factors as well, not just those CT results that showed an extended and irreversible damage of the brain.<br/><br/>All said he'll never make it. All said he'll be just a vegetable for the rest of his life. And now - look at him! He was vivid, his face mirrored<em>feelings</em>and he was able to focus his attention more and more, even if he needed help to achieve it. Of course, everything happened through tiny-tiny steps. So tiny that only those noticed his developement who were willing to see through the mask and who were patient enough. Very patient. But for those few he was a real miracle man. Thanks to Beth's restless efforts, with physicotherapy and stimulation, with balls and those colourful spinning-whirling baby toys that create all the different sorts of noise, long excursions in the garden, listening to all kinds of music.<br/><br/>Paul Simon for some reason was one of his favourites. Before Elisabeth started to nourish him from her own body, like any other evening when she had the time, she chose this CD and pressed the button 'Play', setting it only as a reassuring web of songs in the background. Carefully sitting with him into the wooden rocking chair that she took into the hospital from her own home, her own family's heritage she exposed her breasts for him with a few practiced movements, undoing the clip of her lactating bra. Billie already knew what's gonna come and was straining his neck against the woman's upper arm in quiet joy, accompanying this with a few random moans and excited movements of his hands.<br/>Would her father understand this face, these moments?... The question never let her alone, as this elderly man, doctor Seamous Beauford, high professor of psychology and psychiatry was her only living relative beside an aunt, her long lost mother's sister in the another part of the country.<br/>Therefore Raiga was really her home and everything. They only see each other for a while in the morning - he already felt too far away, and weather too cold without him.<br/>While in the shelter of the softly lit room Billie was finding his way to the gently offered nipple with awkward lip-moves, she crooned with the track for him.<em>"He's a poor boy / Empty as a pocket / Empty as a pocket with nothing to loose..."</em><br/><br/>