"Good morning" Joan greeted the nurses and a couple of pregnant women as she stepped inside.
"Good morning, Joan," Vera replied first before some others followed.
"Still no patients, huh?" Asked Joan, when she noticed that all the beds assigned to them were still empty.
"Why are you always in such a hurry?You have seen a decent amount of patients by now. Didn't you?" Replied Vera jestly, although she was also comforted to see her always so eager to learn.
It's been nearly three weeks since Joan joined the delivery room for the first time. And over the following week, Pristine recovered steadily. By the time she and little Madia were discharged, Joan had become more familiar with the rhythm of the maternity ward…
And within two weeks after that, they received two other women, one of them had breech birth, thankfully the child survived. Though it left Joan both helpless and eager to learn, especially after seeing the senior nurse and the doctor coordinate to adjust the breech position within half an hour, with Joan holding the mother's hand on the side.
After spending three years in the emergency room and then at the general care, she has to admit the feeling she experienced while seeing a new life struggling to be born has given her a strong drive to learn. Even though the child may regret being born into this world in the future, she hopes he knows there is someone who loves him enough to put her own life on the line so he could live.
"By the way, you may have to hold the fort, alone today, as I may be called for home birth with doctor Faras" Joan was brought back from her thoughts by Vera's voice.
"Okay, would they ask you to stay for a couple of days?"
"I don't think so. As I heard the patient has a relative who wants to care for her, but even so, you don't need to worry, with your learning speed you just need to follow others if necessary and you will be fine "
"Alright, I will manage" Joan said kind of indifferently, as she had a feeling there won't be any patients assigned to their beds today as three other women have been admitted in the last three days, although not assigned to their beds, so she can be sure it will be a calm, serene day.
And just as Joan assumed, no one was admitted, and the day went uneventful without any accidents. She left for her residence while planning where she would go tomorrow, and if she should head to a new spot in the park or to a museum.
Joan may appear to be more meticulous to her weekend than usual, as tomorrow just happens to be her birthday. In the beginning, she wanted to celebrate with the girls, but as she really didn't want to do it in the stuffy room, and she can't just ask them to take a day off, she decided to experience her first birthday in this world alone before telling them. Joan had decided not to wrong herself, and to enjoy her years, as it was just a fleeting moment.
The next day, she wanted to be woken up with birds' early greetings as usual, but unfortunately, her little feathered friend had moved her nest elsewhere as of late. She was an unusual and precious friend, as she wasn't supposed to be nesting her in winter in the first place, but who knows, maybe she was keeping her company for her first winter here.
Joan finished her training as the sky was brightening, and was taking a quick refreshing shower, before heading to a nearby cafe for breakfast. At this hour, the communal washroom was still empty.
"Two eggs, buttered bread, and a cup of coffee, please." Joan asked for her breakfast a few moments after she sat .
Ten minutes later, her breakfast arrived. For some reason, it looked far more appetizing than usual. She savored it slowly, one bite at a time, while gazing out the window. Passersby hurried along the streets and through the alleys. Joan found herself unconsciously dividing them into two groups: the white-collar workers, carrying briefcases in one hand and rolled newspapers in the other, and the blue-collar workers, most of whom hurried along in worn clothes with empty hands.
Joan could feel her perspective gradually changing. Back then, she had rarely had the time—or the energy—to quietly observe strangers with no connection to her life. It wasn't that she had more free time now; if anything, she was just as busy. Somehow, though, the world around her had become easier to notice. Perhaps it was this slower era, or perhaps it was simply the absence of the phone that had once occupied every spare moment.
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