"Thank you for your help,ma'am," my patient says after I hand her the printout. During the farewell, shealmost crushes my hand. Somewhat puzzled, I watch her leave the room.
"Was she being sarcastic just now?" I ask Helene as the door closes behind the patient, shaking off my fingers.
Once I utter the words, my boss can’t contain her laughter anymore. With watery eyes and a sniffing nose, she looks at me.
"What’s so funny?" I plop down onto the squeaking desk chair, my body feeling heavy.
Why is she laughing at me? I didn’t do anything wrong. Or did I?
Suddenly, she comes closer and puts her arm around my shoulder in a friendly manner. "A little tip: don't call people ma'am or sir."
Ah, that’s why the patient had been giving me strange looks right from the start! "You could have told me earlier."
"I thought you knew. After all, I address all the patients informally too." She shrugs and takes off her glasses to wipe her tears of laughter with the sleeve of her white coat.
No. It wasn’t clear at all. Not at all. Immediately, I feel the urge to justify myself. "You’ve been living here for a long time. It’s not surprising that you would have an informal relationship with them already."
Her warm gaze meets mine. "Don’t worry. No one will hold it against you."
Yes, of course. Pink-eye lady will certainly regale her story in the pub about the peculiar doctor from the city who uses unnecessarily stuffy language and asks a thousand questions. It will surely provide plenty of laughter.
"Let’s focus on the important things." Helene’s tone suddenly becomes more businesslike. "You should have worked faster, but your diagnosis was correct. You asked the right questions and chose the appropriate examination method."
My heart fills with warmth. Even though I know that my performance was by no means Nobel Prize-worthy. To diagnose conjunctivitis, you don’t even need to have studied medicine. "Thank you," I say nonetheless.
"Starting tomorrow, you’ll be treating patients independently, and I’ll only be reviewing your work. If you get a case where you’re uncertain, just ask me." Her motherly expression lets me know that I can always count on her help. "However, emergency patients come to me exclusively."
"Understood." I nod with a smile. Of course, I’ll do my best not to burden her. I’m already looking forward to tomorrow. Now that I know how to address the patients, there will be one less pitfall for me to step into.
"But for now, it’s time to call it a day. We’ve earned it." Helene stands up, takes off her coat, and hangs it on the hook on the wall.
I imitate her and smooth out the fabric of my doctor’s coat. "If that’s okay, I’ll stay a little longer. I promised Clara I'd help with the admin work."
"Go ahead," she says, enthusiastically marching toward the door. "See you tomorrow."
As I find myself alone, I feel a great weight lifted off my shoulders. Even though this isn’t my dream job and never will be, at least I’ve earned appreciation for my work. Nothing is more fulfilling than that.
Humming to myself, I leave the examination room and head toward the reception area, where Clara has already stacked five black folders on the wooden counter and is eyeing them with doubt.
"This is complete chaos," she says apologetically. "But it’s been so hectic the past two weeks."
I reach for the top folder and open it. "Where should I start?"
She briefly explains the system for organizing the records in the patient files and informs me of the additional data I need to enter into the computer system. Then we begin together.
"Can you tell me about Vienna?" she asks wistfully.
Since our first meeting last week, she has been incredibly fascinated by the big wide world. But so far, we haven’t had the opportunity to chat about it. After work, she always disappears immediately as if she has urgent obligations that just cannot wait.
"What is it like to live there?" Clara’s question pulls me out of my thoughts.
I let out a sigh instantly. "Like paradise." A deep longing washes over me. "You can order takeout anytime. Greek, Asian, Mexican, Italian, vegan. Everything you can imagine," I say dreamily. These are the things I’ve missed the most. Instead of enjoying delicious food, I’ve been surviving on microwave meals these past few days.
Clara looks at me with excitement in her bright green eyes. "And there are concerts every day, right?"
I nod. "More than one."
"That’s so cool," she says, awe filling her words.
