The Lobotomist's Wife(5)
As she sat down at her desk, she noticed a stack of new files next to the stained-glass lamp her mother had insisted on—its undulating pattern of lilacs rendered in light greens and soft purples to add a more feminine touch to the dark wood-paneled room. A note from Superintendent Hayden sat atop the pile: Interview today at 10:00 a.m. She stood quickly and headed down the hall.
“Charles!” Ruth popped her head into her boss’s office. “If I’d known you would be here early, I would have made my rounds later in the day.”
“Ah, Ruth! Don’t be silly, I had an early meeting. In fact, that is what the file on your desk is about. I am sorry to foist this upon you at the last minute, but this doctor is only in town for the day. The provost of the university and I met with him last night, and they are very interested in him as a chair for their Neurology Department. Interesting fellow. He is both a neurologist and a practicing psychiatrist, and his passion is research. Exactly what you have been telling me we need. I would have had you meet him first, but the school set up the dinner at the last minute. So, since you have been spearheading this search, I wanted to be sure you had the opportunity to see him today.”
“Of course. And thank you.” She kept her voice even and professional when she really wanted to embrace him with gratitude for the faith he always put in her. Never mind her family name, she knew how fortunate she was to be a woman in this position, and how rare it was to find a man willing to treat her with the respect of a colleague.
“Have a look at his curriculum vitae. He comes highly recommended from the folks at Yale. He has also been working with some very innovative medical researchers in Europe. The university is quite impressed with him.”
“Well, they were impressed with the last three, and they were less progressive than the doctors who worked with my brother thirteen years ago.” Ruth twisted the slim timepiece on her wrist.
“You are a tough critic, Miss Emeraldine. But that is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this job. Stay tough with your interviews. We need a new point of view around here. Find the innovators and instigate change. We owe it to our patients!” Mr. Hayden slammed his fist on his imposing wooden desk and smiled, his salt-and-pepper mustache turning up slightly and the corners of his eyes crinkling. Ruth really couldn’t believe her good fortune in having this man as her employer.
“Will do, sir.”
Ruth made her way back to her desk and began to read over the candidate’s résumé. If this doctor was nearly as competent and cutting-edge in person as he was on paper, he might be just what Emeraldine needed. But her hope deflated as soon as he walked through the door.
Everything about his appearance was designed to impress, from his impeccably tailored suit to his ridiculous goatee. He was dressed like yet another striver who wanted to appear more successful than he was and who, she suspected, would ultimately follow the path of so many of the field’s most promising doctors: The initial enthusiasm worn down by an inability to break through. The fine suits replaced by stained shirtsleeves. Why bother dressing for work when your patients were often covered in the food they refused to eat, or worse, the excrement they smeared on themselves in some fit of fury?
Ruth pictured the spark in this man’s eyes dulled by reality until he, too, inevitably resorted to those old practices of padded cells and chains. That was not what Emeraldine aimed for. They were going to do better. To do more.
But then this man, this Dr. Robert Apter, began to talk. “Miss Emeraldine, I want to speak with you immediately about the protocol in this hospital. Madam, you could be doing so much more for your patients.”
Ruth cocked her head. “First off, I’m not a madam, and second, we have yet to even make introductions and you are already criticizing our hospital? We’ve designed every aspect to be current with the latest treatments and to give our patients the utmost dignity. As you know, these are the sickest of individuals; many have become dangers to themselves and others. I struggle every day to find ways to make our inmates more comfortable, to help them live lives that have some shred of humanity, while soldiering forward with protocols that will bring them the most relief.” Ruth felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling in irritation. What a presumptuous, impertinent man. She looked out the window to collect herself. By the time she turned back, Dr. Apter had crossed the room and now stood directly at her side. He lifted Ruth’s hand and took it in his own. What was he doing?
“I am sorry, Miss Emeraldine. I am Dr. Robert Apter. So very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Was he mocking her? In her own office? “Now, may we get to the task at hand?” His rich brown eyes looked directly into her own and he winked. Winked! In the first moments of an interview at an insane asylum. Who was this man? “Miss Emeraldine, I know the reputation of this hospital, and of its forward-thinking administrative team. This is the reason I am being so forthright with you. Because I believe you are a rare person of like mind.”
“I s-see,” Ruth stammered, stepping away from him to regain her composure. “Because you believe, after just a few hours here, you now know enough about our hospital to comment on our hard work and that of our doctors?”
“I do not intend to offend. Simply to suggest that you expand your thinking.”
“Expand my thinking? Sir, I read every relevant medical journal on the treatment of insanity and associated mental disorders, some that even our doctors don’t read. And there is no one more devoted to employing the most progressive and promising treatments for my patients than I. So, please, do get to the point.” Although her tone was sharp, she had the smallest shine in her eye. Someone who knew her well would know she was more interested than she let on.