Chapter 127 A place I might call home
Chapter 127: A Place I Might Call Home
From the medical campus, a glass pedestrian bridge connects directly to the teaching hospital.
Through the windows Golden could see ambulances arriving, nurses moving quickly, doctors in scrubs.
This was St. Catherine’s University Hospital. The real battlefield of medicine, and the place where Northbridge students became doctors.
The building itself was massive, a blend of historic red-brick wings and modern steel-and-glass towers. The oldest section dated back over a century, but the newer clinical towers shined with cutting-edge technology.
At the main entrance, carved above the doors, are the words:
“Service Before Self.” Golden read those words and reflected on them.
Zaya led Golden through the main doors into a huge open atrium.
Natural light poured in from a glass ceiling five floors above. People move everywhere.
Nurses were seen pushing equipment carts, doctors in scrubs discussing charts, families waiting anxiously, students clutching notebooks.
On one wall is a massive digital board listing departments:
Emergency Medicine
Cardiology
Neurology
Oncology
Pediatrics
Trauma & Critical Care
Golden noticed that the hospital was alive. It hummed with quiet urgency.
Unlike some hospitals where students fade into the background, St. Catherine’s embraced them.
Golden saw medical students standing beside consultants during rounds, asking questions and taking notes.
One senior doctor was explaining a scan to a group of students, while they leaned in closer.
“Medicine isn’t about memorizing symptoms. It’s about understanding the story the body is telling.”
Golden realized at this point that students here weren’t spectators, they were apprentices.
The tour continued. Through a set of glass doors, Golden glimpsed the emergency department. It was controlled chaos.
Stretchers rolled in. Nurses moved with efficiency. A trauma team rushed past in blue scrubs. But despite the speed, everything felt coordinated.
A paramedic handed off a patient while calmly explaining the situation to a doctor.
Golden felt a strange pull in her chest.
This was the frontline of medicine.
They moved to the pediatric wing which was a softer contrast to the intensity of the ER.
Walls were painted with bright murals of forests and animals. Small waiting areas were filled with toys and books.
Golden watched a young doctor kneel to speak gently to a frightened child.
The child stops crying and Golden felt something shift inside her again.
Medicine here wasn’t just science, it was humanity.
They moved on to the next place. Golden noticed a room with a thick glass overlooking an open theater.
“What's this place Zaya?” She asked.
“It's what we call the Observation Gallery.” Zaya responded.
Through the thick glass, they see a surgical team performing a procedure with incredible precision.
The surgeon moved calmly, almost artistically.
A group of medical students were also standing quietly behind the glass, watching every movement.
Zaya whispered to Golden: “Northbridge students begin observing surgeries earlier than most medical schools.”
Golden watched the surgeon repair a damaged artery. In that moment, she imagined herself down there one day.
Gloved hands.
Focused mind.
Saving someone’s life.
Near the back of the hospital was a small, peaceful chapel open to all faiths.
It had soft lighting, wooden benches, a single stained-glass window depicting a pair of healing hands.
Golden noticed a nurse sitting quietly there, head bowed.
Even in a place filled with science and technology, there was room for reflection. For hope.
As they left the hospital, they took a little detour. “It's time to show you were you will most likely be living for the next four years of your life.” Zaya said.
Zaya took Golden to the medical students residence. Med students in Northbridge didn't stay in the general school dorms because of their schedule.
They had their own private residence which was about 3 minutes from the hospital, and 5 minutes from Hawthorne Hall.
The residence complex looked nothing like the cramped dormitories Golden imagined.
It was made up of three elegant red-brick buildings arranged in a U-shape around a central courtyard.
The buildings rise four floors high, with large windows that catch the golden evening light.
Climbing ivy crept along parts of the walls, giving the place a timeless university charm.
At the center of the courtyard was a small landscaped garden with wooden benches, soft outdoor lighting, and a circular fountain.
“Do all medical students live in the dorms?” Golden asked as she took in her environment.
“Yes they do. Typically, because of our class schedule, we are all made to live in the dorm.” Zaya responded.
When Golden steped inside the lobby, her fears were immediately allayed, it was nothing like she feared.
The lobby felt more like a modern boutique hotel. There were
warm wooden floors with comfortable lounge chairs, long study tables with lamps. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the courtyard.
A small café counter in the corner which sold coffee and pastries late into the night because med students study at insane hours.
Golden noticed several students sitting quietly with anatomy textbooks open while sipping tea.
No one looked stressed, just focused.
Unlike traditional dorm rooms, Northbridge Medical Residences used a shared apartment system.
Golden would live in a four-person apartment.
Each apartment had:
• Four private bedrooms
• Two shared bathrooms
• A living room
• A small kitchen
Each bedroom had: a comfortable bed,
a study desk facing a window, built-in bookshelves, a wardrobe, soft lighting perfect for late-night studying.
The rooms were simple but elegant.
Zaya took Golden to her room which looked out over the courtyard garden.
When she opened the window, Golden heard the faint sound of the fountain and distant student chatter.
For the first time, she imagined waking up here… walking to class… becoming part of this place.
They strolled to the kitchen which was small but modern where students usually cooked simple meals between lectures.
There were cabinets labeled with roommates’ names to prevent the great food theft crisis common in student housing.
Golden noticed something funny written on the fridge with a magnet:
“If you eat my leftovers, I hope your next exam is pharmacology.”
It made her laugh. Golden had never lived in a dorm, but being here made her want to live there and experience the full life of a student.