- Sep 26, 2020
- 1,102
“They still only got one workin?” asked the lady who was also carrying a backpack, a handbag, a large sports bag, and extra large coffee. “Yes ma'am.” answered Frank softly as he wondered why she could possibly need all that shit. “Every time it gets cold they turn one of them off.” The older woman smelled like she just left a department store perfume counter and Frank had engaged her in conversation. It was time for more talk. “That’s all you're wearing in this weather?” the older woman exclaimed while grabbing Frank’s arm. Frank had on a light woolen jacket, a tee-shirt and some worn-out scrub pants. “All year long it's been 95 degrees but now I can finally see my breath. It's easily my favorite time of year.” Frank responded clearly trying to put a little distance between himself and the overly touchy woman. A moment of awkward silence was broken up by the tired ding of the elevator. Frank stopped for a moment letting the older woman get on first. She gave him a big smile showing some teeth that were clearly yellowing at the gum line and said, “You need to move up north.” As the elevator closed behind him, Frank mumbled. “Maybe I do.”
The first thing you notice about a microbiology laboratory is the smell. You won’t notice it standing outside the door however. Walking past it while you're taking your grandmother up to radiology for an xray because she fell trying to get her cat off the refrigerator, you might catch a glimpse of it though. The bright green sensor lights and warning signs just outside the entrance will give you an indication of the circus of smells that lay beyond. Those green lights and the negative air pressure are all that protects you against an all out assault on your nostrils. After ten years though, Frank’s nose failed to even register the battle.
Passing through the sealed door, Frank slipped through the narrow isles of workbenches and unused chairs to make his way to his desk. The vacuum-like hum of fume hoods are ever present here. Add to the mix fluorescent lighting from the early 1990s and a shade of cream covering just about every surface in the laboratory it's about as boring as one could imagine. Frank sat his backpack down and checked to see if Jason was still here. A quick glance toward the back of the room not seeing anyone and Jason’s computer being logged off gave Frank all the time he needed. Frank quickly took a smaller bag out of his backpack and headed towards a large heavy metal door towards the back of the laboratory. A small sign on the door read “No food or flammables allowed.” Frank cracked open the door and a rush of cold air hit his face not unlike waiting for that damn elevator this morning. He quickly took the bag and hid it in an empty box on top of one of the shelves. Sure that it was safe from anything leaking on it, he turned and reached for the metal handle. Through a small window in the large metal door, Jason peered in quizzically at Frank.
Frank jumped at the sight of his slightly too large eyes and receding hair line. “Whatcha putting up there?” Jason asked as Frank came out of the cold storage and realized his nose was starting to run. Frank grabbed a tissue box on Mary’s desk and answered while blowing his nose, “My lunch.” Jason made a face like he had just seen someone eat a cockroach and blurted, “Dude that’s gross.” Frank laughed and started back towards his desk replying, “It's safer than the breakroom fridge. That’s a true biological hazard?” Back at his desk now and attempting to login to his computer, Jason was still talking. “Nah man. I always just order something and go pick it up in the emergency room. It's great!” Jason swung, grabbed a rolling chair and plopped down just in front of Frank’s desk. The man smelled like a Marlboro Red and somehow dressed like one too. “Bro, I just want to apologize in advance for today.” Jason muttered while fiddling with his new cellular phone.
“Please change your password? I feel like they make us do this once a month now.” Frank said to himself while trying to take in what Jason had just said, “Wait, sorry for what?” Jason closed his phone and pointed to one of the older incubators. Inside was a large metal rack filled with agar plates and a large neon green sticky note labelled “Dr. Antonenko”. “They brought all that stuff down yesterday afternoon right after I got here.” Jason explained all the while letting out a huge yawn. “Looks like it's gonna be a rough day for you homie.” Frank stood up and headed toward the incubator. He grabbed the slightly warm handle of the glass door on the front of the incubator and took a look inside. The smell inside was sickly sweet and acrid, like rotten bread covered in pilsner. Counting the amount of plates in the racks showed that Dr. Antonenko must have had a full slate of surgeries the day previous.
Each set of these plates represented a culture from a tissue taken from surgery. They would be plated onto agar plates just after the surgery had ended and checked the next day to check and identify any bacterial growth. “Why do they make you do all of Dr. Antonenko’s work?” Jason said, grabbing his coat and getting ready to head home for the night. “Twenty people work here and you have to do them all yourself.” Frank closed the incubator door and grinned at Jason, “Because I’m the only here Dr. Antonenko trusts.” Frank sat back down at his computer and attempted for what felt like the hundred time to reset his password. Jason was nearing the door, heading home for the morning, when he asked, “That Dr. Antonenko, He is some kinda of Russian ain’t he?”
Frank had all but given up on thinking up something original and just continued to add zeros after his old password. But upon hearing Jason, he replied, “Ukrainian actually. He’s a pretty nice guy. Serious as hell but a good guy.” “Doesn’t matter anyway.” Jason quipped as he opened the door to leave. “Hes going back to wherever he's from after this week.” The door shut hard behind Jason as the negative air pressure built up again. Frank sat in silence for a moment taking in the news. The amount of white noise in a laboratory can almost put one to sleep. Especially when you're alone. It can also help you think clearly. It can also make you dwell on things. Frank let out a long sigh and reached for his backpack. He unzipped the top pocket and grabbed his phone. He pulled up his messaging app and sent the following to his wife.
Frank: Dr. Antoneko is leaving. 🙁
Emily: Awww. I’m so sorry. I know how much you liked him.
Frank: Literally the only surgeon, let alone doctor that shows us any respect down here.
Emily: It will be ok. I hate that I never got to meet him.
Frank: He should be coming around later this morning. I might ask him if he wants to go to lunch.
Emily: Well either way, I will have fresh taco soup for you when you get home.
Frank: Love.
Emily: Love.
