Oleg manifested himself in the door of the staff room.

“My dear ladies, we have a new admission from the Chief. I shall observe the patient, but you keep an eye on him – he doesn’t belong to our department.” “Yes, Boss,” we replied simultaneously. We loved Oleg as he was an extremely kind-hearted person. He smoked heavily and loved to drop a glass of brandy at the evening meal, but he had always been of sincere and pure character. He strove to help everyone and was one of those, who are called the salt of the earth.

We had already had our regular customers in the department. Rimma Zimmerman – a kind woman of 60, with a recurrent depressive disorder, despised by her husband all through her life. Oleg payed her a compliment every time he made a medical round. We supported him. She blushed and brightened up. Since very often it’s not the therapy, but a timely spoken kind word of understanding and support that really matters to people.

Mrs. Charnel was a 78-year-old girl with an organic anxiety disorder and a reckless son. She admitted herself to the department with great pleasure, always in a woolen kerchief and a hoop. She greeted us every time with joy.

These were my patients. I was putting my heart and soul into them. I broke the law prescribing extra pills for them, to have enough for a check out, since they did have a pair of pennies to rub together.

One summer, Mrs. Charnel went into the staff room and brought me strawberries. She tucked away some seven small fruit and sincerely handed them in to me, and pleaded in her granny voice:

“Ms. Clover, I was visited by a cousin and she brought some of these. Please, do try them out."

I realized that Mrs. Charnel had not tasted it for at least five years, since she couldn’t afford fruit. Little can be bought for her retirement pension. I refused out of hand and her eyes filled with tears:

“I am so much grateful to you. You are doing so much for us, I beseech you.”

“Only under condition that now we start eating them together,” it was extremely important for her to utter gratitude and share the most valuable she had.

“Maria, I love you so much. Please try them. Believe me, I pray for you every day. My soul does not heart that much after your therapy.”

At 8:15, daily, there was a medical round. We entered a VIP chamber and I saw the patient recommended by Señor Pablo – a well-dressed 35-year-old guy. At glance, one would never figure out he was sick, so full of talk and generous for compliments he was. Oleg inquired of his health and we were off to our office to discuss the dynamics and the adjustments of patients’ treatment.

“Oleg, he is blind sick and does not belong to our department. We are not a detached ward and he is in mania,” I began.

“I can see, but the diagnosis made had been cyclothymia. He was examined by the professor, who said he would hold on. Dollton indicated him to take his treatment here. The young gentleman is the regional prosecutor’s son. We cannot, but obey. Are you not aware of how much our bosses adore to gratify the superiors? What can I do?” sighed Khamsin sadly with a wan face.

“But what it’s gonna be? Should anything happen, it is us who shall bear the responsibility.

“Me, to be more precise. The only way out is to resign.” “Who will treat the patients, in that case?”

“Calm down lady, everything will be just fine.”

“What if the cycle changes and depressive semiology shall occur? What if he gets suicidal? What’s then? Our staff will not handle it!”

“Ms. Clover, calm down, everything will be fine.”

His words did not sound confident, nevertheless. Though, contained anxiety.

Our patient’s name was Georgy. He began to often visit the ward where Cahrmel and Zimmerman dwelt. He brought them tea, sweets and flowers in mornings, which was quite typical for patients in mania. He was aggressive towards the staff and quarrelsome at times. Everyone danced around and tried to please him. The chief nurse personally came to make his bed.

The three of them often went out for walks, my girls, Rimma, Charmel and Georgy. The girls blossomed and became laughers. At any age, when a woman is given mindful masculine attention, they flourish and grow young again.

At about seven p.m. I got home. No sooner had I put my feet up on the sofa and took up the book of my beloved Remarque, after the first meal for the day, an incoming call from Oleg lit up on the phone.

“Hello, chief, have you missed me already?”

“Marie, dear, come to the department ASAP, we have an emergency.”

In no time I jumped into the clothes I could reach right away and rushed to the dear nut house. When I got in and heard Pablo’s roust from the office: “Have you, old idiot, finally lost your mind? No clue at all? It is time you retire! You are a crazy idiot! Have ruined my evening! Lost you expertise, you are not a doctor, you are a street sweeper, an imbecile!”

“But you yourself said, Mr. Dollton, that he should have been with us. I did not want to take him!”

“What if I tell you to jump from a bridge, will you jump? Dotard.”

At that point Pablo rolled out of Oleg’s office and left the department in a heavy waddling gait.

I went into the office. The old man poured himself another shot of Zelenin Drops.

“What on Earth has happened, Oleg?” “Oh, Marie! Happened the expected.”

Our Georgy went out for a walk with his grannies. He left the hospital grounds, crossed the road and arrived himself at the local convenience store. There he stole two chewing gums, a deck of cards, a pair of socks and two roll-pens. Hiding the loot under his jacket and pants, he intended to leave the crime zone under the guise of unsuspecting elderly women. They were detained at the checkout, where the guards disclosed the theft. Socially responsible grannies began to defend Georgy, cry and wail: “we’re from the nut house, let him go.” Georgy got excited and grew infuriated. A fight broke out and the police was called for. Certainly, the police investigated the matter to the very essence of Georgy’s kin. His daddy visited the local station and sorted things out. As a result, Pablo got into and embarrassing position. The ladies were not determined as the crime accomplices and were sent back to the department.”

“Oleg, you are aware of how absurd the actions in mania may be. He barely sleeps two hours a night. Praise the God, it’s not less. Don’t get upset.” “Thank you, Marie. It seems indeed I am old and it is hard for me!”

“Come-oooon! What’s up!? We adore you! There is no specialist like you.

Who will treat the patients? Do not leave us. Anna is out on vacation and it is already so difficult. We’d be lost without you. Hold on, Oleg. Hold on!

So, now I check up on my girls and we drink tea.”

I went to the ward. Charnel’s blood pressure was 220 to 120, Zimmerman’s – 190 to 110.

“Well, jail birds, pulled the jobs today?” I smile pretending as if nothing happened and cheer them up.

“Oh, Miss Clover, thank you so much for coming over. Certainly, we are shocked! Such a gallant, such a positive young man …” Rima began to wail.

Meanwhile, Charnel sat with her head bowed, in her woolen shawl and looked out into the window. Then, she slowly turned around, sighed and uttered philosophically:

“Oh, Mary, I thought it was love that enchanted me in my old ages, but turned out to be just a disease … sheer disappointments.”