Page 20 of Cilka's Journey
“Perhaps another day.”
“And you knew what to do, when we got here.” Josie’s brow furrows, puzzling.
Cilka ignores her, makes out she is studying the form again.
Cilka and Josie hear someone behind them and turn to see a tall, slim, attractive woman wearing a white lab coat, a stethoscope hung around her neck. Golden yellow braids encircle the back of her head and her blue eyes crinkle at the edges in a smile.
She looks at their faces and immediately addresses them in Polish, a language they can both understand. “What is it I can help you with?” Her accent is unlike any Cilka has heard.
Josie goes to stand up.
“No, sit, stay sitting. I take it you are the patient.”
Josie nods.
“And you are?”
“I’m her friend. I was asked to stay with her.”
“Are you having trouble with the form?”
“We were getting through it,” Cilka says. And then, she can’t help asking, “How did you decide what language to address us in?”
“I’ve been a doctor for a long time in the camps and I’ve learned to make a good guess.” The doctor smiles warmly, and confidently, the first open face Cilka has seen since she arrived here.
“Let me look,” she says, taking the clipboard from Cilka.
“Well done.”
Cilka blushes.
“Why don’t you finish filling it out? I’ll read you the questions.”
“In Russian?”
“Do you know any Russian?”
“I can speak it but writing is a little more difficult.”
“Okay, I think you should continue in Russian in that case, yes. The quicker you learn it the better in here. What other languages do you know?”
“Slovak, Czech, Polish, Hungarian and German.”
The doctor tilts her head. “I’m impressed.” Though she says it quietly. “The next question on the form is: What is the purpose of your visit to the hospital?” She asks it in Russian.
Cilka goes to write something.
The doctor looks over her shoulder.
“Hmm, close. Why don’t you try asking the patient and then writing down what she says?”
Cilka feels panicked. She’s not sure if the doctor is playing a game with her. Why is it that she always stands out, no matter how hard she tries not to? She asks Josie in Russian. Josie looks at her, puzzled.
Cilka tries to write “burned hand” in Cyrillic on the form.
“Not bad,” the doctor says. “Enough of that for now. I can take care of the rest. I had better take a look at the patient.”
Josie holds out her hand. The doctor pulls a nearby chair in front of her and gently starts unbandaging.
