Chapter 21: Saturday, Mischa

Editor’s Note:
The next page is another extract from the journal of Mischa Doeple, dated Saturday, December 4th.

It’s Saturday. I can tell because I turned back the pages and what I wrote yesterday was dated Friday so it must be Saturday.

So this morning I got woken up by a nurse rubbing my shoulder. When she saw I was awake she stopped rubbing and smiled at me. She was sitting on the side of my bed.

She said, “You’ve slept in a bit and missed breakfast time but we saved breakfast for the two of you. When you’re ready, come to the nurses’ station. We have them on a warming tray so they should have stayed hot for you.”

I was yawning and clearing my eyes during all of that but I still heard what she said. Then she turned and pointed across the room and said, “Bec seems to have finished her painting. She might need to clean up a bit before she has her breakfast.”

I looked across the room and saw that Bec was curled up and sleeping on top of the spare sheet they had spread over her bed. There were spatters of paint on her hands and on her face and in her hair and on her PJs.

Her painting was finished and I sat up to look at it properly. It looked like Bec only when she was younger, or maybe it was Tara. I couldn’t tell because they look so much alike. But still she was a few years younger than either Bec or Tara. The girl in the painting was wearing full length PJs that were white but covered with a repeating pattern of different colored spots and over that she wore a robe. One hand was gripping the opening in the robe at chest height. The other hung by her side and clutched a doll by the arm. The girl was staring out from the wall with a lock of hair draped down over her face so it looked like she was peering out from behind her hair. Her forehead was wrinkled like she was confused about something and her eyes looked maybe a bit lost.

It was an awesome painting. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It was so lifelike that it looked like she might step out of the wall and talk to me at any second.

The nurse sighed and stood up. Then she said, “It would be a great help to us if you look after Bec this morning. All of us are going to be busy because we had two new admissions last night. Not only that, but ((deleted)) had a bad night and now ((deleted)) has decided to join in the mayhem.”

I looked at Bec again and I sighed. Then I said, “Okay, whatever.”

The nurse left the room and I dragged myself out of bed. I was still pretty tired because I spent so much of the night sitting up and watching Bec paint. I went over to Bec and shook her shoulder until she woke up. She kind of jerked awake and sprung up and went all tense and looked around like she didn’t know where she was. But then she relaxed a bit and looked at me with a little half-smile and I could see in her eyes that she knew who I was.

I pointed at the wall behind her and I said, “You finished your painting.”

She looked over her shoulder at it and then swivelled around, backing off the bed at the same time so that she ended up standing next to me and looking at the painting. Then her face gradually relaxed and she just stood there gazing calmly at the painting.

Then I said, “Come on. We need to get you cleaned up,” and I took her hand and led her out of the room.

As we walked I said, “So what do you want to do this morning?”

Bec was following me but she didn’t say anything so I glanced at her and saw that she wasn’t really looking around or noticing anything. She was staring off into space like she was thinking about something else so I shrugged and led her over to the Nurses’ Station.

There was only one nurse there and she had her head down over some papers that she was writing on. It was the older nurse, the one with a bit of gray in her hair.

I said, “Hi.”

The nurse looked up and smiled at me and she said, “Hi, sugar.”

So I said, “I have to go to the bathroom and have a shower and everything. I have Bec with me.”

The nurse glanced at Bec and then back at me and said, “That’s fine, sugar. Off you go.”

I looked at her and I looked at Bec and I just knew it wasn’t supposed to be just me and Bec when Bec was staring off into space like she was but I didn’t say anything about that.

So I said, “I need towels and our change of clothes and our toothbrushes.”

The nurse didn’t even look at me, she just waved her hands at the rack at the back of the desk where all of that stuff was stored and told me to help myself.

I walked in through the gap and over to the rack. Bec trailed behind me because I was still holding her hand. There was a labeled opening for each patient so I went to my spot and grabbed my toothbrush in its little container plus one of the little clothing bags which hold a change of clothes for me. I have 5 outfits and they come back from the laundry already sorted into their little bag. They know what stuff is mine because there is a big label with my name and patient ID on it on every bit of my clothing and on the little laundry bags they go in and on the toothbrush holder and anywhere else that matters. I’m amazed they don’t have one of those labels stuck to my forehead but all they have on me is the little plastic wristband.

Most of the patients have their own clothing that their family takes home to wash and they keep little piles of clothes in the cupboard in their room so they can decide what to wear each day but the hospital does my laundry because I’m a ward of the state and I don’t have a family to do that stuff for me.

There’s no point fussing about what I should wear each day because all my clothes are pretty much identical. The shrink got them in when I first moved into this ward and he just ordered 5 of each thing from the same shop. They’re in different colors, but the tops and bottoms all coordinate okay so it’s not like it matters – not that I’m that hung up on fashion and everything but nobody likes to wear stuff that clashes. Bec doesn’t seem to bother either but then she always wears the standard hospital PJs anyway which are identical to each other so I don’t know what she’s like when it comes to clothes.

I found the opening for Bec and grabbed a clothing bag for her (there was only one) and her toothbrush container. Bec’s clothing bag had her name and patient ID plus a code on the outside which I guess told them what size of the standard PJs to put in.

I steered Bec over to the rack of fresh towels and grabbed 4 of them. I was running out of hands so I pushed the pile of towels into Bec’s stomach and put her spare hand against them. She seemed to get the idea and held them so that was good. Then I picked up her other hand and led her into the bathroom where I closed the door and slid the little lock to make it say “occupied.”

I had to help her get started with brushing her teeth, but once she was started she kept going on her own. I guess it’s muscle memory or something.

I left her there and went to use the toilet. I stripped off my clothes and dropped them in a pile by the door on the way so that I wouldn’t have to bother with that later. When I was finished, I went over to the sink and saw that Bec was still brushing her teeth so I told her “that’s enough” and she stopped. She spat and rinsed the toothbrush but then she seemed to be unsure about where to put it so I guided her through putting her toothbrush away in its container and then led her over to the toilet.

I hoped she wouldn’t need me to help her with that but right away she started undoing her pants so I left her there and went back to wash my hands and brush my own teeth.

I was amazed how much work it was to care for her. I said to myself, “Man, if this is what it’s like to look after a kid, I’m never having kids.”

I finished brushing my teeth about the same time she flushed the toilet and stood up. She was pulling her pants back up when I went over so I stopped her and told her we were going to have a shower. I pulled her pants down again and told her to step out of them and then I grabbed the bottom hem of her top and lifted her top up and over her head and she was naked just like that. I tossed Bec’s clothes over onto the same pile as mine and guided Bec over to the shower head.

I guess I should say that getting her naked made me jealous of her all over again. She has a bit of shape to her hips and her boobs have started to grow and everything. I look like a 5-year-old. I’m so jealous. I know the doctor said I would eventually start puberty but I’m sick of all the other girls my age looking like women when I’m still like a pathetic little girl.

I got the water going at the right temperature, and I squirted some soap out of the dispenser into her hands and moved her until she was under the water. I was talking to her all of this time, by the way, but she didn’t seem to be listening so I won’t even bother writing down everything I said.

At least she was washing herself so that was something. I had to help her scrub some of the paint off her face and hands but it came off pretty easy so that was good. Once that was done I squirted some soap for myself and tucked in next to her so I could get my shower in at the same time. That was quicker because I didn’t have paint all over me and I wasn’t on autopilot like she obviously was.

It’s not the first time I’ve showered with someone else. It was weird when I first did that at the group home because you keep bumping into them and brushing against them with your bare skin but I’ve gotten used to it and now it doesn’t bother me so much. If they are dykes and make a move on me in the shower, then that would bother me but having a shower with another girl who isn’t a dyke is okay I guess.

So anyway, then I went and grabbed the shower stool that was there and made her sit on it so that I could shampoo her hair. She had to be sitting because she’s taller than me and I couldn’t reach otherwise. Well I could have reached if I needed to but this was easier. I figured I should wash her hair properly because she had spatters of paint all through it that she might not get out on her own. Washing someone else’s hair was new. I’d never done that before. It was kind of fun but I was also thinking how much work it was. No wonder the nurses wanted me to care for Bec when they were busy with other stuff.

So anyway, I finished washing Bec’s hair and rinsed it out and then I put shampoo in my own hair and washed my hair as well. While I was doing that, Bec kept standing under the water and letting it beat down onto her skin. She kept moving and swaying and I couldn’t figure out why, but then I decided it was so the water hit her in different places and I figured she must like the feeling of the water beating down on her skin. I asked her about that but she ignored my question just like she was ignoring everything else I was saying.

I turned the water off and put a towel in her hands and she started drying herself. That was good because I didn’t want to have to do that as well as everything else. We towelled off and I used the extra towels to wrap around our wet hair. Then I grabbed my little clothes bag and put on my clean shorts and top. That didn’t take long. I guess one advantage of the shrink’s clothing choice for me is that it doesn’t take long to get dressed.

Then I grabbed Bec’s PJs out of their bag and right away something seemed wrong. I held them up against her and they were tiny. Someone in the laundry put the wrong size in her bag and these ones were way too small for her. They would have probably fit her little sister.

I threw the useless PJs down on the used clothing pile in disgust and wondered what I should do. I hunted through the pile and found her old ones but they were rank and spattered with paint and one leg was drenched from lying on the floor and getting splashed with water so I figured she wouldn’t thank me for putting those back on her. There was only one thing I could think of to do so I wrapped a towel around her and tied a knot in it above those little boobs of hers. Then I grabbed our toothbrushes and shoved them into her hand so she would hold onto them and I picked up our pile of clothes and used towels and I led Bec out of the bathroom. I dumped the clothes and towels in the big basket on wheels that sits just outside the bathrooms for towels and stuff to go to the laundry.

I went over to the Nurses’ Station to tell them about the clothing fail but nobody was there. I looked around and saw two different nurses hurrying from one room to another in different directions but nobody looked at me so I gave up on that idea. Then I went in through the gap and looked in Bec’s little spot for a second set of clothes but it was empty. In the end, I grabbed one of my spare clothing bags for Bec.

I turned around bumped into Bec because she’d followed right behind me and I hadn’t noticed. I figured she would stay back near the bathroom but she followed me instead. So I took the toothbrushes out of her hand and put them away, then I grabbed Bec’s hand and led her right across the open area to our room with me in my usual clothes and a towel around my head and Bec with just a towel around her body and with another towel around her head.

It made me giggle. The shrink went on about how the rule was very strict about being properly dressed when we were out in the open area. I guess kids streaking around the hospital wouldn’t be good for their image or something. Not that Bec was actually streaking but if that knot in the towel slipped she would be.

Once we were in our room I kicked the door closed with my foot so we could have some privacy. Not much privacy, because there’s a window in the door, but some. Then I stripped the towel off Bec and started helping her into the little lycra shorts. They were a bit small on her so I had to pull and tug on them quite a bit to get them into place. Her hips stick out a bit more than mine do and her thighs have actual muscle on them so the shorts didn’t just pull up easily like they do on me. It was a good thing the lycra is stretchy so I could get them past her hips but once they were up they seemed tight but fairly comfortable. Not that Bec complained. She just stood there and let me dress her.

Then I had to put the top on her. The top is just a lycra band that sits tight around my chest so it was really tight around her chest. It squished her little boobs totally flat.

Once I had her dressed I stood back and looked at her. She looked pretty. The skimpy clothes showed off that she’s all toned and fit like an athlete. I sighed to myself. I wish I looked half as good as her.

I sat her down on my bed and kneeled up behind her so I could finish drying her hair. As I did, I shook my head and muttered to myself about how caring for her was so much work. Then I left her there and sat down to dry my own hair.

While I was doing that, one of the nurses knocked on my door and pushed it open to remind me that our breakfast was still sitting there. She said I had to eat every meal so that I didn’t get sick again and then she dashed off to do something else.

So I sighed and grabbed Bec’s hand and we went off to have breakfast which was still kind of warm but not hot anymore so it was more disgusting than usual but I ate some of it anyway and Bec ate hers but she didn’t seem to notice how disgusting it was.

Editor’s Note:
The next page is another extract from the patient notes of Dr Koehler dated Saturday, December 4th, 9:35am.

I visited Bec in her room. She sat on Mischa’s bed with her back to the wall and hugging her knees to her chest. She was staring across the room at the new painting on her wall. She was wearing one of Mischa’s outfits – a small pair of lycra shorts and a tight band around her chest. I would have thought they would be too small for her but apparently the lycra stretched enough. Mischa was curled up on the bed next to her with her head on a pillow that rested against Bec’s side.

Dr K: Good morning, girls.

Mischa opened her eyes and looked at me but neither girl responded.

Dr K: What happened to your hospital scrubs, Bec?

Bec ignored me but Mischa glanced at Bec and then spoke to me.

Mischa: She got paint and stuff all over her last set. Then after we showered, we found out that the laundry sent the wrong size PJs for her. She didn’t have anything to wear so I loaned her a spare set of my stuff.

Dr K: Was that Bec’s idea or yours?

Mischa: (scowled) It was my idea. It was a choice of that or a towel.

Dr K: You could have asked one of the nurses to call down for a fresh set of scrubs in her size.

Mischa: The nurses were all busy. They left me to look after Bec so I did the best I could.