Chapter 10
Carrie looked over the local news board at the Armstrong Emporium.
Cynthia Armstrong kept a board in her store from their early days when folks needed to find places to live or other things available to buy or trade.
Those early days in Cheyenne made such boards necessary, and now they just gave a bit of convenience.
There were several houses listed for sale, but only a few very small apartments for rent.
Nothing seemed overly suited for Carrie’s ambitions.
Her thoughts were to get a three-bedroom house, maybe something close to town where she could receive patients.
She and Spencer could each have their own bedroom, and the third could be her office and examination room.
“Why, if it isn’t Carrie Vogel,” an older man declared. “Your mother and father tell me you consider yourself a doctor.”
Carrie turned to find old Dr. Lyons, a longtime physician in Cheyenne. Another man stood beside him and gave her a nod. “I remember when I removed your tonsils.”
“Dr. Lyons, how nice to see you again.”
The older man tipped his hat, then turned to his companion. “Dr. Bruce Compton, meet Carrie Vogel.”
“Actually it’s Dr. Vogel . . . Duval. I married recently, and we’ve decided to settle here for a time.”
“Bruce is interested in the brain, as I hear you are,” Dr. Lyons proclaimed. “I still think women are better suited to keeping house and raising children, but this modern age has distorted the thinking of our youth.” He laughed and slapped his thigh. “Now, there’s a disorder to study.”
Dr. Compton extended his hand. “Dr. Vogel-Duval, I’m pleased to meet you. I am interested in studies on the brain myself. Quite fascinated with the research that’s being done.”
“My particular interest is not only injury or disease of the brain, but the correlation between those things and the personality changes and mental conditions the patient often endures because of them.”
“Oh, grief!” Dr. Lyons said, sounding most vexed. “Psychiatry hoodoo and all that. A waste of time.”
“I hardly think so,” Carrie countered. “There have been great strides in that area. Look at the work of Dorothea Dix, for example. Her efforts have given great insight into the mentally ill and why they should not be housed with dangerous criminals when jailed for their actions. We can learn from her work that many people are not capable of reasoning right and wrong due to deficiencies in the brain. A great many of those patients started out with specific brain injuries.”
Dr. Compton’s expression betrayed excitement. “Exactly so. I’ve been quite fascinated regarding patients who develop tumors in the brain and how that affects their behavior, memory, and ability to reason.”
“I have a few good articles on those very topics if you’d like to borrow them sometime.” Carrie was more than pleased to find a fellow doctor who shared her passions.
Dr. Lyons had had more than enough. He waved them both off and shook his head. “This is just a passing fancy. Doctors will find out soon enough that the brain is no different than any other part of the body. It gets injured and heals or doesn’t.”
“But unlike other parts of the body that don’t heal and must be excised, one can hardly remove the brain and still have a living patient.” Carrie had heard these kinds of protests since first entering college. Dr. Lyons was simply an older doctor without insight into the future of medicine.
“Exactly,” Dr. Compton replied. “Which is why we must study in detail every aspect of the human brain.”
“Bah!” Dr. Lyons started to go, then stopped. “Carrie Vogel—Duval—you would do much better to stay home and take care of your husband rather than worry about his brain.” With that, he left her and Dr. Compton and trudged across the store to the front counter.
“Sorry about his obvious dislike of female physicians and brain disorders. He’s spoken his feelings on both many times, especially given we have two female physicians here in town.
I’ve always tried to assure him that women could bring much-needed insight into the sciences, but of course he is from another age. ”
“Yes, as are so many men. You seem not to mind my field of interest, however.”
“Not at all. In fact, I remember reading a short article you published in the American Journal of Insanity. You spoke of the various affects you were discovering when introducing experimental medications to patients with severe melancholia.”
“I wrote that shortly after graduating medical college. I was working with a research team at the college, but this was something I’d done on my own.
” She remembered how furious Oswald had been that she hadn’t consulted him before agreeing to publish the article.
It was one of the last times she got credit for her own work.
“I found it quite interesting. Did you continue with that research?”
“No, my partner . . . fiancé took me in a different direction. Now, however, I’d like to get back to it. There is still so much to learn.”
“But you’ve married?”
“Not to the same man. I was engaged to Dr. Oswald Nelson at one time.”
“I know that name well. He just published a major finding on the brain repairing itself and recovering various skills.”
“You may not believe this, Dr. Compton, but the finding was mine, and he stole it. Which is why I broke off the engagement and married another.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to mention this.
Now that she’d offered the information, Carrie felt embarrassed.
She hadn’t meant to sound like a braggart.
“I do believe you. In fact, I would love to discuss this at length. Would you have time to come to my office sometime next week? I live just north of the capitol. My office is there, and my wife manages my appointments for me.” He handed her a card. “Come by any time.”
“I would be happy to.” Carrie glanced at the card for the man’s address and then smiled. “I see you have a telephone number. I will call you to let you know what day might work best. Would that be all right?”
“Absolutely. It was a great pleasure to meet you, Doctor.”
Carrie shook his hand. “And you as well, Dr. Compton.”
She watched him go, then turned back to the board. Just then, someone else approached and called her name. What a day.
“Carrie, it’s me. Katie Combes.”
Carrie turned to find her childhood friend. “Katie? Goodness, how long has it been?”
“You know very well. It’s been eight years, and in all that time you only wrote me six letters.”
“I do apologize, my friend. It was a terrible show of friendship on my part.” Carrie hated that she’d lost touch with the vivacious woman. They had been friends since they were little, and Carrie had always anticipated that they would remain so for life.
“Are you back now to visit or stay?”
“For the time being, I plan to stay. I’m married and a doctor, so it will all depend on my work and my husband.”
“Where are you planning to live?”
“That’s why I’m here today. I came to look at the board to find a place to rent.”
Katie’s mouth dropped open, and she gave a squeal of delight. “You’re in such luck. My grandmother moved back to Missouri to live with my uncle. We have her house to rent out. It’s completely furnished, but I’m sure we could move some things to storage if you’ve brought your own.”
“No, we haven’t anything. I remember your grandmother lived off of Sixteenth, didn’t she?”
“Yes! It’s just a few blocks from your folks and close to town.”
Carrie nodded. “How many rooms?”
“There are two large bedrooms, a kitchen and dining room, a parlor and separate music room. Grandmother used to give piano lessons there, if you remember.”
“I was hoping for three bedrooms. I want to set up my research and perhaps see patients, but it seems the music room might work out well for that.”
“Why don’t you come with me and see it now? The rent is very reasonable, and Mama might even want to lower it once she knows it’s you renting the place. She was always very fond of you and your family.”
“I’d be happy to come see it.”
“Then I won’t even post the information on the board. I am almost certain you’ll love it.”
Carrie followed her friend from the emporium and out into the cold morning air. They made their way from downtown along Sixteenth with Katie filling Carrie in on all the news of who had married and who had children.
“I think you were the only young lady who went off to college. At least from among our friends. Most married or moved away when their families left the area. So many people left here in ’87 after the big blizzard.”
“Yes, Mama told me all about it,” Carrie admitted. “It sounded very bad.”
“It was.” Katie’s eyes darkened. “There was so much death. So many cattle were lost and people too. It was just tragic for everyone. Even the wealthy big ranches suffered, and some completely folded. We’re just now seeing folks get back on their feet. At least the ones who stuck it out.”
Katie turned at the corner, and Carrie kept pace with her rapid strides. The cold air seemed unimportant as the quick pace kept them quite warm.
“So, you have mentioned others in our class marrying and having children, but what of you, Katie?”
She glanced at Carrie. “I have a beau, but we haven’t yet gotten quite that serious. You wouldn’t know him since he just moved here around Christmas. However, he attends our church, and if you’re there tomorrow, I can introduce you.”
“That sounds perfect. I’ll introduce you to my husband, Spencer Duval. He’s one of Papa’s law officers, so you might even run across him on the street. In fact, he’s working now.”
“Here we are.” Katie stopped abruptly and waved her hand. “If you like it and decide to rent it, we can go from here to see Mother. It’s just a block away, if you remember.”
“I remember it well, but not so much this place.” She gazed across the yard. “I love the picket fence.”