Diagnosing Magda

“Magda Kowalski”  

The Surgery Doctor scanned the waiting room to see if the name she had just called registered familiarity with any of the patrons in the overcrowded waiting room.  

It appeared not. “MAGDA KOWALSKI” she called louder this time in an attempt to  mitigate the crying baby and the war cries of the Nelson Twins, who were busily battling each other with wooden swords.

A tall slim woman,  with long dark hair and a pale, heart shaped face with angular features, stood up hastily, awkwardly trying to detangle the wireless ear pod from her hair.

 “That’s me, I am… her” she announced, while side stepping clumsily to avoid tripping over the children’s toys that were strewn across the waiting room floor.

The Doctor was a short mildly plump woman, who’s no nonsense, brisk stride betrayed her stature, Magda picked up the pace, almost jogging to try keep up.

“Please Sit” the Doctor motioned to a chair, as she took her own seat behind a  large mahogany desk, furnished with a computer and various office and medical necessities.   

She typed the patients name on the keyboard  “Date of birth” she enquired, while pushing a strand of her well maintained blond hair behind her ear.

“March 22nd, 1992” the young woman responded. 

The Doctor perused the file notes on the screen for a moment.  “Your Doctor in Poland sent your file”.  She waited several moments to allow a response.

“He notes you have not been taking your medication as prescribed”   the young woman’s expression remained blank.

“Magda”.  The Doctor got up from her seat and walked around to the other side of the table,  she pulled up  a chair and sat face to face with her patient.  “Why do you not want to take your medication”.

Magda bit her bottom lip as though trying to keep words and emotions inside, her brow furrowed and she drew breath before whispering  “There is a man”

“Yes?” the doctor leaned in, unsure if she heard the correct words, yet, feeling encouraged that this was progress. “what man”

The young woman who had been looking past the doctor, quickly averted her eyes to a downward gaze. “He is standing behind you, he is mad”

Assuming something was lost in translation, the Doctor tried again. “Is the man stopping you from taking your medication?”

Drawing a sigh of exasperation Magda stood up, collecting her tote bag and coat “This was a mistake, you cannot help me, the medication cannot help me”

“Please Magda, if you leave now, you will have wasted both our time, talk to me, give me a chance to help you. ”  The Doctor stood up in a mirrored attempt to find common ground.

The Older woman motioned to a couch at the back of the office, taking the box of tissues from her desk and placing them on the arm of the chair. “Sit, please”

Magda moved towards the couch, her eyes still trained on something in the opposite corner of the room, her knees shaking as she lowered herself onto the cushion.

The Doctor pulled out a mobile phone from her lab coat tapped the screen a couple of times, waited a moment,  motioning to Magda for a moment of patience.

“Molly, could you please divert my next two patients to Dr Carver.  She smiled reassuringly at Magda.  “Could you please also ensure Ms Kowalski is only charged for one slot. Thank you”.

Hanging up the phone she powered it off and put it face down on the side table to the right of the couch.

“You have my full attention Magda, I am listening”

Sitting on the edge of the couch and knotting her fingers nervously through a twisted tissue, the girl closed her eyes.

“The man is standing in the corner, he is mad”  She opened her eyes, looking half apologetic, yet she continued  “he is talking in a deep voice, he is saying…”

She lowered her chin and tried to deepen her voice to add to the effect “Carol Marie Avery, you  should have stayed in Canada”.

“Pardon me” said the doctor,  she had resolved herself to listening without prejudice regardless of what was said, but this felt a little close to home, and unnervingly accurate.

“The man” Magda continued.  “He is wearing a suit with three pieces,  its brown,  he has a blue shirt and a bow at his neck,  how you call it?  Muszka “ she offered the word in Polish, not knowing how to convey it in English.

“A bow tie?” enquired the doctor

“Tak.. I mean Yes” said Magda excitedly.

Tears had overwhelmed Carols eyes and against her better judgement were cascading down her cheeks, trailing her jawline before dripping from her chin and leaving a damp stain on the Navy blue blouse, peeking out from under her lab coat.

“How do you…”  a lump of emotion had formed in the Doctors throat, obstructing the words.  

Magda was on her feet now, getting in her stride “Oh, he loves you Carol.  But he said he raised you better, to see the bigger picture, always”   moving towards the man in the corner and opening herself to his emotion.

“He said, you had an opportunity to have a great career, but you wasted it, to watch him die” The excitement gave way to sadness.

Looking towards the distraught Carol who was dabbing at her tear stained cheeks with a tissue and taking stock of the impact this interaction was having she moved towards the older lady, kneeling in front of her.

“I’m sorry Doctor. It was not my plan to make you sad”.

Sniffing back the tears, Doctor Avery looked towards the corner where her deceased father allegedly stood,  wondering how this girl, whom she had never met could know such intimate details.   

She tried to weigh her professional obligation against her emotional wellbeing.

“Is this what happens when you don’t take your medication Magda?”

Confusion contorted the girls face, she looked towards the ghostly figure of the man.

 “She doesn’t believe me” she closed her eyes and cocked her ear towards him to listen to his response.

Rising to her feet the Doctor moved hastily towards the professional sanctity of her desk, once there,  tapping on her keyboard furiously , adding notes to the patients file.

“Magda,  we need to get you referred to a specialist, but first, I need to understand a little bit more about you”.

Un-nerved by this sudden shift from emotional to clinical, Magda once again presented as nervous and awkward.

“Doctor?” she uttered,  “He said to tell you…”

“Magda, please focus.”  Dr Avery had decided to keep this consultation on track, to focus on the symptoms, and not get drawn into the psychosis of the patient. 

“How did you discover this information about me,  social media? Did you talk to people who know me”?  she tried to keep her tone non-accusatory.

Ignoring the painful expression on Magdas face, she continued.  “Does the medication help with the visions? does it stop them from happening?

She paused in consideration of how to phrase the next question so it might provoke a thoughtful answer.

“Who do you think, you, would be without these visions?  She couldn’t read the girls face at this point,  was it sadness, was it disappointment,  fear perhaps?    “Does that frighten you?”

“I didn’t choose them Doctor” the young lady offered,  defeated.  “I prefer they don’t happen, but it is my destiny.”

“Mmm” the Doctor tapped at the keyboard adding notes to the file.  “I see”  Glancing up she noted the girl was still looking past her, quickly glancing over he own shoulder, satisfying herself that nobody was there,  she continued “ How does the medication impact the visions?”

“I didn’t prepare for today Doctor,  that man, I think he is your father, yes?  He told me to say that…”

Cutting her off once again the Doctor Sternly interjected “ Please Magda answer the question”

Realising she had failed to represent the man in the corner,  the young woman sat down, she had after all come her to tell the Doctor she wished to discontinue the mental health programme.   She had not expected him to be here.

“I prefer to have no visions, but they happen, if I have medication or if I do not”

“Interesting” said the Doctor, relieved that the visit was firmly back on clinical grounds.

 “I could prescribe you a different brand of the medication, but I think,firstly, I will refer you to a Psychiatrist who specialises in this kind of…”.

“No thank you” said the girl.

“Pardon me” asked the Doctor looking up from the screen.

“With respect, I don’t want any more Doctors, no more pills, I am not sick, I am a medium” her voice trailed, those last words uncertain in her mouth.

Unphased, Doctor Avery continued.  “I strongly recommend you go talk to this guy, he really is very good at …”

“No, Thank you” repeated the girl, asserting herself clearly.

“Okay,  if I write you another prescription, will you take the medication?” questioned the now exasperated Dr. Carol Avery.

“No, I won’t.  I won’t come back here again,  I am sorry I upset you Doctor”  Magda once again got to her feet and gathered her belongings.

She felt a sense of relief that she had finally said it out loud, she had finally stood up for herself,  but more than that she felt lighter that she had decided to embrace her gift. 

She looked to the corner of the room,  they man in the brown suit was no longer angry, he seemed sad, he had hoped to share information with his daughter, to right the wrongs of the past.  

He loved that his Carol was head-strong, focused and determined, he loved that her work ethic was indestructible, no matter what she did her passion for helping others shone through like a beacon.

Carol had always been expected to do great things,  she had placed top of her under graduate class in Trinity College , she went on to astound her peers and Mentors during her surgical residency in her chosen field of prenatal surgery.

She had made a name for herself in her native Ireland, however,  her talents could only take her so far on such a small Island.  Her doting Father had never been prouder when her hard work and relentless passion, resulted in an offer to head up the surgical department from the Toronto Centre of excellence for Neonatal Health.

This role was the realisation of her professional career and it took her from strength to strength, ensuring her name was in the mouths of everyone who mattered to her progression.

When he had been diagnosed with bowel cancer, he had not considered she, whom he affectionately called Coco,  might leave her hard won success to care for him.   He had raised her to see the bigger picture.  His Devastation in those final days, was immeasurable.

It had been just the two of them since her Mothers untimely passing when Carol was just sixteen years old.

He fought his illness bravely, yet after 14 months succumbed.

So much had happened in the world of neonatal care in the time she had been away and her grief at the passing of her father was so profound, that Carol, no longer sure of her place in the world,  did not return to Canada.

After a couple of months, she set up a GP surgery in the house she had inherited from her father,  a year later,  she reached out to other qualified professionals to find the perfect location to set up a medical clinic that would meet the needs of the growing population of her home town.   It wasn’t world class neonatal care but it was something.

In recent days her research partner in Canada had been attempting to contact her,  she had a vacancy on her team and wanted Carol to fill it.  She had been hearing her father’s voice at the back of her mind,  telling her off for ignoring the calls, he had a familiar phrase he would use to encourage her to embrace the risk attached to worthwhile endeavours.  

Magda hesitated at the doorway, looking back over her shoulder she nodded at the old man in the corner, before addressing the Doctor one final time.

“Coco, she said softly.  “This is your chance, nothing worth doing has a safety net”.  Magda smiled as she shifted her bag on her shoulder,  “that’s what he said to tell you”.

In that moment Carol knew, beyond doubt, her father was in the room, Goose bumps rose all over her body.  Magdas gift was real.