Trickle-Down Timeline

Disguised as Suicide

Cris Mazza / 31 Disguised as Suicide Just before Jan won the title of miss Sand Valley, California, her agent— who’d driven 200 miles to Sand Valley the day before the contest and signed her on after the preliminaries—whispered in her ear, Tell them you want to be a doctor, that always knocks their eyes out. The other finalists hugged her and buzzed her cheek with pursed red smiles.The mayor shook her hand and had his picture taken while being pecked on the forehead. everyone’s faces tipped up toward her, applause sounded like bacon frying, cameras clicky-clacked as she traveled down the raised runway and back again. She was thinking about what her new agent had said. So, she decided, this was not what she was all about. She thanked her new agent and he became her former agent. instead of going on to bigger contests, she left her agent scowling and went to a trade school for health-field employees because what she’d said was, after all, no lie: Helping other people was more glamorous, deep inside where glamour counts, than becoming a world-class model. She breezed through her trade-school courses, majoring in hospital administration, because hospitals are not only the most important—she said to whoever it was that took her out to celebrate the night of her graduation—but also the places of biggest need. She pointed out: a dental assistant stands there and hands things to a dentist that he could pick up by himself. A doctor’s assistant makes appointments that are never kept on time. A transcriptionist sits typing whatever a doctor says into a tape machine, almost never sees the doctor—nor the patient—and then whatever she types might get filed away somewhere and never looked at again. But hospital administration is a field where you know you’re making a difference every day, working side-by-side with a family of caring professionals helping those who need you most. She got a job.Seven new outfits added to her wardrobe made it possible to not repeat for over three weeks—although, as she’d learned in trade school, that ploy was most effective and important in a geriatric facility with long-term patients where variety and color helped brighten their day, whereas the job she got was at a small neighborhood hospital. 32 / TRiCkle-Down Timeline At first she was a trifle disappointed because she had the night shift, eleven pm to seven am—never called graveyard in a hospital. The whole facility wouldn’t be very active: no surgery planned, no meals served, no one needing counseling or company. She didn’t even have to dress up, but at least she was the only administrative employee on duty.The things she would be doing no one else did. She had a little office across the hall from the eR and its small waiting room.The main office and plushly furnished lobby were closed and abandoned at night.Jan typed charts for people who came to the emergency room, typed the new hospital census at midnight, copied and delivered the census to message boxes for doctors and heads of departments, typed the next day’s menu and posted it, prepared and mailed insurance bills for outpatients m through P,and answered the main hospital phone if it rang. After a week the thought of either joining the Peace Corps or calling her old agent crossed her mind. it was a full moon on monday of the second week. “we can expect some of our friends tonight,” said ms. Cory, the emergency room nurse. “A party?” Jan asked. “no, honey,” nurse Cory laughed. “Repeaters. The suicide attempts.” “oh! But if we know beforehand, shouldn’t we stop them?” “And ruin their fun?” Jan found an envelope propped on her typewriter. it was an invitation to a costume party, but she didn’t know who was giving the party. The hospital was quiet. only a little past midnight. She sat looking at the card. Then it started.The bell sounded on the automatic doors at the end of the hall, the door swung open, and someone was calling “Help us, please!” Jan leaped up, grabbing a blank chart and a clipboard. nurse Cory was already leading a stumbling man into the emergency room. A woman stood sobbing at the eR doorway. “let me help you,” Jan said. She guided the woman into the waiting room. when...