Finding Zina

- Quiet! Quiet! - the chairman shouted, running along the narrow, broken, but paved central street of the village of Makarovo. - Yes, you calm down! Michael has arrived!

But the crowd continued to roar. Mass gatherings rarely happened in the village, and the people frankly missed them. Even Village Day, which used to be held on such a grand scale, has long since sunk into oblivion. Although, is it possible to call an event in a village with one thousand inhabitants “on a grand scale”?

Suddenly, on the road near the crowd, the K-700, the once famous yellow Kirovets, with wheels as tall as a man, braked sharply. So sharply that he swayed uncertainly on the mighty front springs, pecking his nose. The cockpit door opened and a short old man appeared in it, wearing a gray jacket, comfortable sweatpants with three stripes on the sides, galoshes with wool lining and an old and greasy cap. Sunken cheeks, covered with gray stubble, bushy eyebrows hanging over the eyes, but the look of the slightly narrowed eyes is firm and confident.

Did you find Zina? shouted a deep voice from the crowd.

- Yeah. - Grandfather turned and shouted, already going down the stairs. - Right now I'll tell you everything, let me catch my breath, Kolyunya drove under fifty.

- So I am ... - the same Kolyunya, a tractor driver, leaned out of the cab from the opposite side. - The people have already gathered, and look at the city they will move, expect trouble then ...

Mikhalych was already standing on the pavement, lighting a cigarette. My hands were shaking a little, but a long-term habit made itself felt - it turned out from the first match, despite the wind. The crowd approached a little, forming a semblance of a semicircle, in the center of which were Mikhalych and K-700. Kolyunya wanted to drive off, but the children were already hanging on the wheels, and there was nothing left but to turn off the engine.

- Well, tell me, do not torment! - The chairman put her hand on Mikhalych's shoulder and gently shook him. - Where is Zina? When will he return?

Mikhalych took a deep breath, took a couple more puffs, threw a long cigarette butt on the ground and carefully rubbed it with his foot. By his appearance it was already clear whether Zina would return.

- Will not come back. Mikhalych said shortly and fell silent.

The crowd became unusually quiet. The glances that had previously been directed at Mikhalych turned to the ground, the tractor, an old general store, a row of stalls, in the back of the head of the one standing in front. Nobody wanted to believe.

“Wait, Mikhalych…” the chairman took a step back and looked intently at her grandfather. "Tell me how it was...

- Yes, Mikhalych, come on, tell me, do not languish! shouted from the crowd. What is she doing there, in the city? Medical or what?

“Medicine, yes. Mikhalych nodded and reached for the next cigarette. - I'll tell you now.

So I came to the city. Where to look - the devil knows, but he thought a little - where else can a rural doctor go, if not to a hospital? Isn't it a manager? (Mikhalych said exactly “manager”, and not the usual “manager”).

Well, I think we should go to the polyclinics. I started with the district - after all, Zina is from the district? I came, so I go, I look - I can’t find it. They have it there, a poster hangs, sort of like our doctors - it's not there either. While he was standing, examining, a nurse came up - so young, beautiful, in full, which means war paint. He says - what are you, grandfather, looking at here? The poster has been hanging for ten years, as it was hung up for the arrival of the governor, so we just wipe the dust on New Year's Eve.

And what, I ask, dear, did our doctor not appear here? The name is Zina. He says - no, it hasn’t been for a long time, I would know - I’m sitting on the schedule. And so he left, slurping unsaltedly.

Then he went to the city hospital. I thought I would also stand by the poster, maybe someone would come up and help.

- Fuck wait from the city something. Kolyunya's voice came from above. - If you die, they won’t fit, even cheat your pockets.

- You are right. Mikhalych nodded. - There is no poster there - the TV is hanging, with a schedule, that means. And, as luck would have it, I left my glasses at home - I only put them on for the newspaper. So he stood, peered, until some grandmother came up. My friend, I say, help me - I don’t see a thing, read me the names of the doctors. Well, she read - there is no Zina there.

And what, I ask, are all doctors here? No, he says, only those that are accepted today. I gave advice - go to the help window, they know everything there. Only this, immediately tune in, they say - they will be rude. Well, I say, is there something for me to be afraid of swearing? And went.

I stood in line for half an hour - there were three of us, but the nurse in the window galloped off somewhere, a goat. When she returned, he asked - is there, dear, do you have Zina the doctor here? She went to yell about some kind of persdan ... persondan ...

- Personal Information? the chairman said.

- Yeah, that's it! Mikhalych rejoiced. - I won’t tell, he says, even if you crack! I was about to give up, but I decided to lie - dear, I say, Zina is my daughter, only I lost her phone, so I came to visit, she said she works in the hospital, I’ve been running for two days, I can’t find it. And this goat is no good.

He went outside, sat down on a bench and lit a cigarette. Then some peasant runs up, in a black uniform, with a stripe - like a security guard, or something. And so bravo got into my ear - smoking, they say, it’s impossible here, grandfather, now you will pay a fine. I could not stand it, jumped up, yelled at him - why, they say, you, kid, dug into the old man? Do you have nothing more to do? You go, work with mine, turn your back on the country, which then won’t even remember your name, then you will teach me!

He already blushed, began to choke - the devil will understand, either out of fear, or right now he will clean his face. He grabbed me by the jacket, but as he pulled, I jumped up. I almost tore off my sleeve, Herod. And this one grabbed, does not let go, shakes by the sleeve. Well, right now, he says, grandfather, the end will come to you. Prepare a pension, you will pay the fine, or sushi crackers - you will go the street of revenge. Well, I think Mikhalych disappeared.

- So I would give him a melon, and that's the end of it! shouted someone from the crowd. - If he works as a security guard in a hospital, then he’s skinny, which means he’s utter!

- Well, I thought so! Mikhalych continued. - What am I, was it in vain that I served in intelligence? Even though I am shell-shocked, I don’t have some kind of fat-ass? Yes, in the forty-third herd I transferred them across the front, tying them in a chain, like camels!

Well, only I, it means, got used to it in his ear to call in, they shout from behind - stop! The guard turned around, let me go - he was frightened, that means. I look - that goat is running from the reference window. You see, the conscience is stuck. And there, to lie, as I did just now - go, says Seryozha, continue patrolling, this is my grandfather, from the village, he is stupid, don’t get angry.

And this stump is not appeased - no, he says, the law is the same for everyone, come in large numbers here, establish your own rules. Note grandfather, how to give a drink. And I don't care that he's your relative.

Well, of course, do not care - says the girl. You generally do not care about everyone, like everyone else - about you. You are meaningless, he says, a piece of something there (honestly, I didn’t catch it). There is a hospital, doctors, people walking around, what for are you needed here at all, henchman? You shy away from morning to evening, you don’t let mothers drag strollers inside - it’s not supposed to, after all, they get wet in the rain. You don’t get wet yourself, you hide inside so that you don’t wet your fat body.

Dispersed, in general, the girl. The guard is already shaking all over, he began to walk towards her, raise his hands - here, you see, my old habit worked. I didn’t have time to figure out how I pushed him in the ear, and managed to catch it until the body flopped to the ground - well, as they took tongues, silently. He sat him down on a bench, pulled his cap over his face - he seemed to be sleeping.

And the girl is standing, smiling, not frightened - well done. Well, you give, I say. You lie and don't blush. And you are not afraid - go, when he wakes up, will he run to complain? No, he says, he won't run. He is only bold with old people, and with nurses, until they send him. Nothing, don't be afraid, grandfather, everything will be fine.

She smiles, which means she sat down next to me, and whispers quietly. What he whispers - I can not understand. He asked to speak louder - repeated. No, he says, we have no Zina, she checked it on the computer. Go, says grandfather, to the district, maybe there. Well, I tell her - I was, my daughter, in the district, Zina is not there.

The girl became thoughtful, took out her phone, let's poke around there. I thought that I would call somewhere, maybe in a fool house, so that they would take me away - but no, she has some kind of card there, in her phone. She asked who Zina was by specialization - I say, she was a village doctor, she treated the whole village, for all diseases, she even cut us, and tore our teeth. She still thought, and said - well, if neither in the district nor in the city, then, therefore, in a paid one.

Now I, he says, will teach you. You are there, grandfather, do not even think about asking about your Zina. They generally don’t like the elderly - you don’t have money, if you come to a paid hospital, then for some nonsense. Say you want to heal. Do you have money?

Two thousand, I say, collected by the whole village, for a trip. The girl hesitated, thinking. Suddenly she jumped up and said - sit down, I'm right now, and ran to the hospital again. I lit a cigarette again - what, go, is there a second guard here? And this one is sitting, snoring, even began to snore, drooling flowed. I wiped it off with an ewon hat so that no one would notice - they would think that it had become ill, they would call the doctors.

The little girl was gone for a quarter of an hour. Soon this little one should wake up - it would be necessary to reel in the fishing rods, but, thank God, she ran out, with some kind of piece of paper. She came up, sat down, quietly slipped it into the pocket of her jacket, and said - this, grandfather, is a special direction. Give them a paid one, say that from the clinic, they will read and understand. It seems like we were treating you here, but we didn’t understand what you were sick with, and we are sending you to a paid one, and we will pay for the treatment. The main thing for them is that someone pays. Just don’t show too much - say that you first need an examination, and treatment - only by agreement. Let them first write what they have appointed, and, they say, you will think and decide. Understood?

Understood, I say. Wow, what a good one. And after all, he smiles again - oh, it's a pity, old me, such beauty disappears ... Well, he thanked me, hugged me goodbye, and went. She stopped - how long, she says, will this one sit? Another fifteen minutes, and wake up. The head will buzz a little, but nothing. Come on, won't complain? The girl smiled - do not be afraid, grandfather, she will be ashamed, because the old man, forgive me, gave something in the ear. It will be silent, like a fish on ice.

I reached, then, to a paid clinic - it was across the road. Looks like they settled down closer - so that those who are tired of sitting in line, run to them. I go - how I got into space! The walls are white, they are already shining, there are sofas everywhere, palm trees grow, so that they don’t pour vodka. He approached the girl, she looks somehow suspicious - go, she thinks, she made a mistake with the door.

But I sat down, crossed my legs, took out a piece of paper from my pocket, and slapped it on the table. She took it with disgust, with two fingers, ran her eyes over - and the nonsense was taken away like a hand!

Hello, says Foma Kuzmich! At first I was confused - why is she calling me Foma, I'm Nikifor. I was just dokumekal here - the nurse didn’t know my name when she filled out the paper. Well, I think that now he will ask for a passport, and the last intelligence operation of old Mikhalych will fail!

No, she didn't. She told me to wait a minute, picked up the phone, called somewhere, and soon a peasant galloped up - such a plump, but polished, in a suit, which means that with a tie, the shoes shine. Let's go, says Foma Kuzmich.

Well, I got up, let's go. They came to the office, and there - no couch for you, no scales, no cabinet with pills. There is an oak table, leather chairs, carpets on the floor. I looked at my galoshes, I felt so ashamed. I took it off slowly and left it at the entrance. The man sat down at the table, I perched opposite.

Well, he says, what did you complain about? And I look around, I can’t understand in any way - is he a doctor or who? I think - I'll ask in the forehead. What, I say, are you specialty, dear?

He did not blink an eye - I, he says, is the manager. I furrowed my eyebrows - why, I say, are you talking to me then? I need a doctor. Come on, take me to the doctor. You are a manager, I am a tractor driver, what kind of sores should we talk about?

And he laughs, already flooded - you see, I said some kind of utter nonsense. You, says grandfather, have you been in a paid hospital for a long time? No, I answer, I got stuck for the first time. Well, the manager says, then listen. Right now we have different orders here - first you need to talk with the manager, and only then with the doctors. And most likely, with the doctors and will not have to. I myself, he says, I'll talk to them, I'll pick up the right specialist for you - for the head there, or the stomach, or the nerves - we have all sorts.

Then it dawned on me: you see, the manager is instead of the therapist. Well, it used to be like that in the district. No matter what hurts, you rush to the therapist, he will already redirect. Like, where are you from, old bastard, you can know if you need a neurologist, or a proctologist, if you have pain just below your back when you sit in the saddle.

I ask directly - what are you, a therapist? He laughs again - grandfather, he says, you ask a lot of questions, spy, or what? I acted like a fool - they say, where do I go, I’m just old, I haven’t been to hospitals for a long time, I don’t know how everything works here. I would like to see a doctor.

He, you see, has already begun to freak out - he is tired of laughing. Come on, he says, tell me what hurts you. And I will give you a treatment plan, procedures, tests, examinations. And the doctors will do what I write.

I do not let up - how do you, I say, write a treatment plan for me if you are not a doctor? Somehow in your managerial vocational school they teach what pills to treat? He has already begun to twitch - he says that everything is taught there. The manager is, like, a generalist. Wherever you put it, it will stand on its paws like a cat. It is necessary to draw up a treatment plan. We'll have to - the project plan throws. Pretty - write functional requirements. There will be such a booze - and an approximate estimate for the construction of the cosmodrome will be.

Now, he says, it's like that everywhere. The manager removes the task, then transfers it to specialists. And they do. Well, they can yell, of course, if absolutely nonsense is written, the manager will correct it. This, he says, is called a flexible approach. Like worms, right?

So come on, grandfather, don't caulk my brains anymore - tell me what you're sick of. I thought, and decided - I'll start small, I want to figure out what they have like here. I cough, I say. The manager wrote down something, looks at me again. I am silent. Does everything say? Everything, I answer.

He sighed heavily, thought a little, got up and went to the door - not the one through which they entered, but on the other side. He stopped at the door, he said - feel at home, Foma Kuzmich, if you want to drink - there is water in the corridor. And left.

And I follow him, mouse, mouse. He looked out - walks along the corridor, does not look back. After two doors he stopped and went into the one on the right. I ran up, I look - it says "Ordinatorskaya". And next to it is a sofa, and a jar of water inserted into the tap from above - well, just like our street washbasins. Only it is necessary not from below, but from the front to press so that the water flows.

I sat down and listened - they were neighing like horses in the staff room. Senya, they say you are a moron. What does "cough" mean? Well, dry cough, or wet? In the morning, or before going to bed, or wakes up at night? With blood, or snot just fly out? Senya mutters something, they say a cough is a cough, and they neigh even harder - they say, if the grandfather is old, then go and cough the last, and here you are caulking our brains. Senya sort of asked what to appoint, someone vociferous answers him - go, appoint a tomography, you are a brilliant salesman with us, if only to grab a commission. Especially if the clinic is busy.

Well, I think we need to return to the starting position - I ran into the office, closed the door, sat down and sit. Senya comes - his cheeks blush, his eyes run, he sat down in an armchair, caught his breath. He says that a couple of questions came from specialists to clarify my diagnosis. Cough - dry or wet? And everyone, I say, is wet in the morning, dry in the evening. Senya asked about the blood - no, I say, this never happened.

Senya wrote down something, was silent for a while, and gives out: well, that's it, Foma Kuzmich, I figured out the treatment plan. You need a tomography, a complete blood count, an ultrasound of the heart, kidneys and bladder, an x-ray of the teeth, a biopsy, and vitamins, she says, I will write it out right away. My jaw has already fallen off - fortunately, I still have my own, otherwise it would have been uncomfortable.

I say, my dear, who do you take me for? Although I am old, I know how to treat a cough. Look, pills from him are sold for twenty rubles. Here Senya suffered ...

Here, he says, everyone thinks that they know better how to treat sores. They start with a cough, but they don’t ask for smart specialists, and they get cured to the point that they can’t take a step. It is not necessary, he says, to save on health. Listen to intelligent specialists, and if they say that you need an MRI and vitamins, then don’t blather, they say, but pay and do it.

I don’t let up - you, I say, Senya, excuse me, but at least let me talk to the doctors! You're in sores, not in the tooth with your foot! Even I know more! Do you want, I say, I'll show you where to press the carotid artery so that you sleep for half an hour? Senya, you see, got a little scared, or decided not to get involved - okay, he says, I’ll ask again. And you, grandfather, clarify something about your cough.

I pondered for a minute what to say something like that, and then it dawned on me - I must say it in such a way that if Zina was there, she would understand. I thought, thought, and I say - Senya, tell them that I am coughing, as if I swallowed a shishabarka. What, he asks? Shishabarku, I say and nod. Doctors, they say, will understand. He shrugged his plump shoulders, and again went to the staff room, and I followed him.

Sat, sat - do not laugh this time. So I didn’t hear anything, I even missed Senya’s return - I had to quickly grab a glass and, as it were, pour water. He stood over me and asked - listen, grandfather, are you not from Makarovo, by any chance? I nod, yes.

Come on, he says. There's one of the experts here who wants to talk to you. Well, I already knew which one. Zina, of course.

He brought me to a normal, doctor's office, as soon as I saw Zina, I began to smile so much that my mouth almost broke. But he did not show his mind - he went in, sat down, was silent. And Senya sat down next to him. Zina looks at me, smiles softly, then barks at Senya - why are you sitting down? Get out from here! He began to argue, saying that he is my manager, and without him you can’t talk to me, so she quickly reined him in - medical secrecy, she says, has not yet been canceled. Senya could not find anything to object to, and dumped.

Well, hugged, as expected. She's just kind of sad. Sit down and talk. She left, she says, because she was tired. They don't get enough carnage in the countryside - after all, there is no hospital there, it almost worked on a voluntary basis, and for almost forty years now. Marry not to marry - for whom, in the village, then? There is only one drinker, and those who do not drink are all busy.

For a long time, he says, he thought. She wanted to consult with the people, but did not dare - she knew that they would persuade, and she would succumb. That’s why I left at night, on a ride, I immediately changed the phone so that they didn’t start calling.

I shed a tear - Zina, I say, but how are we without you? What should we do? In the city, or what, to go? So here you see how everything is - you won’t wait in the clinic, you will die until they accept it. And in a paid one - a manager, you will give a paycheck for a year to cure a boil. And you, Zina, drink calendula, and in two days everything will pass. Who in the city knows about calendula?

Here Zina burst into tears. She got up, locked the door with a key - to see that Senya would not burst in. Understand me, says Mikhalych. Well, I can't do it anymore! I understand everything, you all feel good in the village, you like it there, you are in business, you have roots there, but who do I have? Nobody. As I arrived, once, out of stupidity, even by distribution, I thought - the village, the air, the people are good. Well, let's say that people are good, and they treat me like in my own, and the air is alive. And that's it?

After all, I have acquaintances, from the Medical Institute - they are all in the city, half a day in a polyclinic, so as not to lose contact, and write dissertations there, and half a day in a paid one, where they get many times more. Everyone at the apartments, with cars, go to the sea regularly. And those in the north, so for a long time already have two hundred thousand, a month. I already choked - our whole village does not receive so much.

I want, he says, to live normally, like a human being. Lastly, as they say. I’ve already stopped arguing with her - I’ve begun to understand, sort of. I say - what do you get here? Zina smiled, waved her hand, laughs - do not be afraid, Mikhalych, where ours did not disappear.

Here, he says, they appointed me the chief diagnostician. This, therefore, means that I am able to identify sores faster and better than anyone. Well, of course, in the village, everything had to be done by eye, even a cold, even a fracture, even a volvulus of the intestines. So I got the hang of it that tests are not needed - especially since there is no way to take them.

At first I was worried - here, go, did you see what it was like? There are tomography scans, ultrasound, there are countless specialties - and I'm just a doctor. When applying for a job, she couldn’t even name her specialty properly - she called herself a therapist, as in a diploma. And as the patients went, I immediately make a diagnosis, even according to the description that Senya brings.

Here I could not resist - I asked what kind of Senya. He says that this is generally complete nonsense, they recently came up with it. Their director went somewhere to Moscow, heard enough there, and decided that seeing a doctor right away was the last century. Like, a doctor is like a child. A person with a cough will come to him, the doctor will prescribe pills and send them with God. The patient will only pay for the appointment, he won’t even buy pills - they say, it’s expensive with us. Here are sales and almost none - the director said "we just sell our time." And it seems like you need to sell more.

And I came up with the idea - to put the manager. That person is intelligent, he will not sell only what is needed - he will definitely sell, as he said, related products. He called to us, which means programmers, marketers, they set up some kind of program, and they wanted to force us to drive in all the appointments, for all the years - in order to understand who can sell what.

We, of course, got furious, threatened that we would leave - it worked out, we hired students from honey, they almost nailed everything for bread. These marketers figured it out, and made up signs for us - Zina got it, showed it. There, then, she wrote a sore, and it is listed what can be added to it.

And there are also separate scarecrow cards, even doctors were forced to learn them. Like, if you have a cough, then you need to tell all the diseases in which this cough happens. And cancer will be dragged in, and the heart, they say, according to recent studies, can cause a cough. And most importantly - to sell tomography to everyone, as the latest and best achievement of world medicine. In general, Zina said, the thing is really useful, it can find sores on its own, but it is painfully expensive. And the director needs to return the money for the apparatus, so he tries.

But it didn’t work, with the doctors. Well, they can’t prescribe a tomography if a person has a cut on his finger that festered or a rash from strawberries on his face. So they separated the patients from the doctors, put in the managers. Senya seems to be the best. Previously, they say, he worked with programmers, he knows this business - after all, there is the same trouble. A good programmer, they say, like a doctor, knows the treatment faster than a person tells what happened to him. So he treats, cheaply, and there is almost no benefit to the office.

On the other hand, says Zina, it's even easier. Many doctors have become dumb before our eyes, and new ones from the institute are happy as children. You don't have to think anymore, just do it. The manager appointed me to put a dropper - be kind, do not ask questions, smile and stick a needle. Some doctors have forgotten how to make a diagnosis at all, and at least understand something in treatment. Soon they will become like nurses - when they were born, it was they who worked that way.

Well, the specialization of many went. If before there was a doctor, there was a surgeon, so he was a surgeon. And he could cut, and set the bones, and determine appendicitis, and cure a hernia without a scalpel. And now - they almost write him a piece of paper, where and what needs to be cut, how to sew it up later, and what needs to be washed inside, or what device to insert. Well, like the workers in the shop have become that they work on the conveyor - they don’t use the brain at all. So, what's nasty, the brain turns off quickly, when not only the medical history - you don't even see the patient in its entirety. Only the area where the manager poked you with his nose.

I'm back to mine again - they say, since it's so bad, let's go to us again! Well, let's think of something with money. I’ll talk to the chairman, maybe he’ll get you a bigger paycheck, or there, I don’t know how the village doctor will be paid. No, none.

Zina says that she will save a little more and wants to open her own hospital. She will start with one office, she will receive. He says that you are not the only one, Mikhalych, who does not like the local order. Many patients complain that they cannot reach the doctors, but they give money as for engine repairs. It's better to lie down and die.

I found, she says, among like-minded doctors - those who are older, they still remember the Hippocratic oath, and some kind of unforgettable feeling there - well, when a patient, having learned that he only needs to drink pills, smiles so sincerely, as, probably, only in childhood smiled when he found a gift under the tree. This, says Zina, cannot be replaced by any money.

Here I again butted in - Zina, they say, we smile at you in the village so much, you get tired of being surprised! Not amenable. She shed a tear again - I can’t, that’s all. I want to earn money and help people, for the life of me.

Then I realized - Zina, I say, maybe we will go to you for treatment then? Well, when you open your office. Or maybe you are with us? Once a week there, or what? A?

Apparently, she did not think about it - her eyes immediately dried up, smiled, nodded. Exactly, says Mikhalych! What didn't I think! Only this... I'm going to treat for money, but in your village...

Oh, I say, don't be afraid! You’re from the city now, you don’t have your own potatoes, no meat, no greenfinch, there’s nowhere to even get mash! So we will provide you, Zinul - you know us, we have the freshest, without chemistry, from the garden! There is no money, so at least we will feed you to satiety! It will still be for sale.

No, he says, thank you, I'm a doctor, not a shopkeeper. But the thought is good. Especially if we provide transport - we will bring it from the city, it will heal for a day, and we will leave with the gifts. I swore that I would organize everything. That's what they decided on.

We sat a little longer, reminisced about the past, drank some tea. Well, he says, you, Mikhalych, came up with something about shishabarka. I immediately realized that someone from Makarovo, and for sure - to me. Where else would the money for a paid hospital come from?

- Well, then you know. Mikhalych finished the story. He took out another cigarette, lit it, and with a sense of accomplishment stared at the clouds floating over the village.

“Well, you, Mikhalych, a shishabarka ...” said the chairman with a smile. - Will you come to me as a deputy? We still need to repair the bridge, will you agree, go, go to the city?

— God forbid. Mikhalych crossed himself picturesquely. - Enough with me. Saved the Motherland for the last time.

- Well done! Well done, Mikhalych! Wow! shouted from the crowd. - I'm on a scale! I'm the first to Zina!

But Mikhalych was no longer listening. Slowly made his way past Kirovets, and walked home.

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