Anastasia Romanova (nasha_anya) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-01-14 13:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, anastasia romanova, lulu |
Who: Anya Romanova and Lulu
What: Routine checkup
Where: Irvine General
When: Sunday evening
Rating: All Ages
Status: Complete!
Anastasia had been on her feet for nineteen hours straight. She’d just stolen a half hour nap, but it had only been seeming moments until she’d been shaken awake. “I’m sorry, Anastasia Nikolaevna,” the Russian-speaking orderly had said, grimacing. “But there’s literally no one else left to do temperature checks on the fifth floor.”
“It’s okay.” Anya sat up, rubbing her eyes, trying to shake off sleep like water from her ears. She forced herself to think in English. “I’ll go up there right now,” she said, stretching and mustering a tired smile. The fifth floor elevator was right down the hall, and once she was there, she started going into the patient’s rooms.
Lulu was sketching, as she had done ever since she’d been admitted to the hospital. It didn’t require her moving much, it didn’t require her doing anything but sitting in the bed and using one hand. Her oxygen mask was on and she shivered a little in the cardigan she was wearing. She wasn’t as bad off as some of the people on her floor, but she still knew that things were touch and go.
Anya tried to look happy, or at least a little happier. “Hello,” she said in English. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I was ask to do the check-up. My name is Anya; I won’t be long.”
The young woman’s English was quite good but not perfect. Lulu smiled. “Of course. Thank you. You look exhausted, if you don’t mind my saying so.” She sat up a little more so the woman could take her vitals.
Anya chuckled, but even she knew it was tired. “We are very tired, but the sick are more so,” she said with a smile, sliding into the by-now familiar procedure, looking at the chart. “Are you cold, Ms. … Web-ster? You shiver.” The name was strange to Anya’s ears.
“Please, call me Lulu. You look rather young to be a nurse, if you don’t mind my saying. And yes, I’m quite cold, but I know it’s not really cold in here.” She smiled wistfully, putting up her sketch for the moment.
Anya was grateful; ‘Lulu’ was easier to say. “I am a pre medical student only,” she said. “I came here from Russia to study, but this is … ” She thought for the word. “Crash course.” She smiled, tiptoeing up to get another blanket for the lady.
“Be sure to get the name of your supervisor and his phone number. When you apply to medical school, this will certainly help in terms of experience.” Lulu smiled, feeling a bit motherly toward the girl already. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I hope you don’t get ill.”
“So far I am lucky.” Anya chuckled. While Lulu sat up, she tucked the blanket behind her, making it so it could be wrapped around her body. “When it started I would volunteer but soon I was locked in here, so I have done all I can since.” She reached over to Lulu’s neck to take her pulse. “My name is Anya, by the way.”
“That’s a lovely name. Thank you, Anya.” Lulu was quiet while her pulse was taken so that Anya could count. “Are you in college now, or finishing high school?”
“My name really is Anastasia Nikolaevna, but American people seem to not be able to say it.” She smiled, writing down the number. “I am beginning university, but I will start one semester ahead because of advanced credit I took in Russia.” Her pulse was good, and she’d wait a second to see how her temperature was once her body warmed up. Blankets helped keep out Russian winters, at least.
Lulu had lived with a girl in foster care who spoke Russian. “Anastasia? It’s not so difficult.” She tried the only phrase she still remembered. ”I don’t speak much Russian.”
That was rather a pleasant surprise. Anya grinned. “Your accent is good. And it seems to be the patronymic they find difficult. My papa is Nikolai and you add -evna.”
“I changed my last name from what my parents’ was, but I get the idea. My beau’s name is Nikola, though, that’s fairly close.” She knew Nikola’s parents likely had different ethnic origins, but it was nice to see how close names were all over the world. Or it was to her.
Anya nodded. “It is usually Greek. But since the churches are so close in doctrine, we adopt much from them. My mother’s name came from Greece as well, Aleksandra.” She smiled. “Nikola is probably Jugoslav. The name.”
Lulu nodded, smiling and leaning back. She liked listening to this girl talk. “I’m sure his family origins stem from there.” She didn’t know what room he was in, but they’d been texting back and forth. “He may be in this hospital, I’m honestly not sure.”
“You don’t know? I can discover it.” Anya didn’t like the idea of loving couples being apart. She readied the stethoscope, apologizing as she put cold metal to skin.
“Thank you. We’ve been texting on our phones, but … it wouldn’t matter even if he was in the next room. If I try to stand, I end up coughing and exhausted and I faint.” She hated playing the part of the willowy damsel.
“I will find out,” Anya promised. “It would help, I am sure, to at least know his whereabouts.” She took the stethoscope away, raising an eyebrow. “You are breathing better, but still like underwater.”
“I know.” Lulu smiled sadly. “The inhaler has been helping, though.” She cocked her head to the side, looking at Anya. “When I am better, will you do me the honor of letting me create a dress for you? I make clothing, and you’re perfect for what I’ve been sketching.” It was an odd request, but Anya was lovely.
She was happy to hear the woman say when she was better. So many had given up. Anya was a good Russian Orthodox girl; she just prayed harder. But the idea of what Lulu was saying. She wasn’t sure she understood her correctly. “You make clothing?” Anya echoed, smiling shyly. “I don’t know what I am perfect for, but спасибо?”
Lulu reached out for her sketchbook to show her what she’d drawn. It was a black dress that flared at the knees and while the bodice was strapless, had black lace sleeves and a black lace collar. “I don’t know, I think it would bring out your coloring.” Lulu smiled, leaning back to watch the girl’s face as she looked at the sketch. When people liked things, it showed in the corners of their eyes.
Anya’s eyes lit up. “Очень красиво! Very beautiful.” She looked down. “I don’t know how or where I could use it, but it is very pretty.”
“Well, when I’m well, it’ll be yours as a thank you for taking such good care of all of us.” Lulu smiled, laying back down, putting her oxygen mask back on.
“Is only my job.” Anya shook her head. Though she still did appreciate the offer. “You are kind. I started volunteering with clinics in Russia who go to the countryside; all the peasants could offer was bread or vodka. Like it was still 1900.” She smiled a little. “I accept a gift given, as long as no payment is intended.”
“Of course not, you’re doing quite enough right now.” Lulu patted the girl’s hand.
“Only the blood pressure left,” Anya smiled, promising as she got the cuff. “I’m just glad my English is being good enough, Miss Lulu. I can be understood even if it’s not perfect.”
“English is far more difficult than any other language to learn,” Lulu murmured, eyes closed. She could feel herself starting to wheeze, feel the crackling in her lungs.
“I think so, so far.” Anya operated the cuff, grimacing when she could hear the wheezing getting louder. “The blood pressure is good but the oxygen mask is clearly still needed.” She shook her head. “I apologize for staying and talking a lot.”
“I’m glad for the company.” The person who shared her room was in and out, and when they were in they tended to sleep. Normally silence suited her just fine, but not when she was terribly ill. It afforded her too much time to think.
“Well, I promise to return with an answer,” Anya replied, “when I discover where your beau is located. I like this word.” She smiled. “My English teacher says ‘boyfriend’ but the dictionary says this means for young people.” Wait. Anya grimaced. “I mean, you’re young but not the most young. I do not try to be rude.”
“You aren’t rude.” Lulu smiled and laughed a bit, the mask making it echo. “I always thought that word was for girls too young to marry. Beau is much better. The French have many good words, it’s why English stole so many.”
Oh, good. “That makes sense.” Anya smiled. “In Russian there is only one word for someone you date, no matter how much your age. But I will find him for you.” She nodded. “In the time while waiting, everything looks as well as it can. If you get very much colder, though, please tell Doctor, as that would be unusual with more than two blankets.”
“His last name is Tesla. And I will tell anyone who comes in here that’s a doctor if I’m cold.” She closed her eyes. “If you would, please jot your contact information on that sketch so I may find you when I’m well.”
“I will.” Anya scribbled down her telephone number and e-mail address. “Sleep well.” She backed out of the room, hoping she could be as energetic with the rest of the patients.