by Salomea Kape-Jay

Two Doctors/One Friendship

A Memoir from the Holocaust’s Ashes

Who’s the girl in the red dress?” I asked Hannah as we walked the dimly lit corridor of the pathology building. The year was 1947, my first year in medical school in Lodz, Poland. Covered with small abscesses, I was not in good physical shape. My doctor, however, stated that the multiple purulent craters were merely a “minor disease” and he treated them offhandedly with a hideously pungent, tar-like ointment, an ancient remedy which didn’t help at all — though it did provide space around me in crowded places. There was little interest in his eye while he examined my ulcerous gums.

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