Chapter 8
Doctor Fanstick - Shrink
A couple of slow days passed and Jake seemed to be getting more and more nervous. One lazy Sunday afternoon he entered my room, walking arm in arm with this small old lady. She had a hunched back and slowly shuffled forward towards my chair in the recreation room. She looked like she should be in a cake shop, she had rosy cheeks and a friendly smile. She had that old person’s aroma; it secreted through her pours and there was truly a pungent array of stale, mouldy smells.
“Hello Khedlar,” Jake said, his nerves becoming obvious in his voice. “This is my grandmother, Annabelle I have told her so much about you and I thought she might like to meet you.” He peered down at the floor and didn’t give me any eye contact.
“Yes, well, hello Annabelle, I hope you will like it here. I have been here a couple of years and I am probably going to be around for a while, so, if you ever want to have a chat, let me know.” The niceness in my voice and words made me sick, it was as if Jakes pain was making me act out of character. What the …?
“You see what I mean, he is such a lovely guy.” Jakes voice sounded slightly more motivated. He gave me and his grandmother a beaming smile as his eyes shyly searched for approval.
“This is my husband Eric,” she said as she looked towards her left. “We have been married, happily married, for over fifty years. Although he died last year I can still see him,” she sighed slightly. “He told me when he was alive that he would never leave me, and now he’s dead he’s here beside me, I now know his words were true.”
I felt like I was in with the real crazy crowd for a moment and I could see Jakes face start to turn a bright shade of red, so I humoured the old lady.
“Hello Eric, lovely day today. Take good care of her, okay?” Why was I acting this way? I was so sickly sweet, it hurt.
“Okay, well, I will get her settled in and I’ll come back to see you,” Jake said as he bent down and whispered in my ear softly. “Thanks for being understanding and not laughing at her, it means a lot to me.” He slowly walked her out of the recreation room.
She had definitely lost it! I sat back in my chair and watched the game of dominoes taking place. They were playing for crackers, you know, making the game a bit more interesting. If the drugs don’t kill me the undeniable solitude of this place will.
Just then I remembered that this afternoon was my weekly appointment with Doctor Fanstick. This man was supposedly one of the best psychiatrists in town. He was a strange character. He would ask you questions such as, “Tell me, do you sometimes feel angry and want to hurt someone?” Of course my reply would be “Yes, don’t you? How would you feel if I called you a murderer, that you had killed your wife and daughter? And if you had no recollection of it, how would you feel, doctor?”
Every single time I had tried to challenge him or make him see things from my perspective, he would just nod while writing notes and tell me to carry on. What did this man want me to do? I sometimes felt like lashing out and killing the guy. I knew if I did I would just get blamed for it. He was and is the reincarnation of passive, malevolent evil.
Jake passed by the recreation room to collect me from my inner thoughts and looked at me. For a moment he remained speechless until he said, “Hey, she’s all settled in now and she asked me if I could get her another bed for my grandfather. I told her that the staff would not allow it and she just told me solemnly that one will just have to do. She has never been this bad. I think this place will make her mental problems worse. Earlier I thought it was cute but now it’s really starting to upset me.” A bead of sweat formed above his right brow.
“Look Jake, I wouldn’t be surprised if they won’t let you carry on taking care of your granny for much longer. I think the law specifically states that in any kind of hospital it would be too emotionally irresponsible to allow a member of the family to attend their relative,” I sighed. “They will certainly take you off her case tomorrow, as they probably thought that you would want to be the one to get her settled in here, that’s all. Listen, when that happens you can then see her as her grandson and not as a member of staff, okay?” I told him I had read many books on very similar subjects and I knew exactly how hospitals worked.
“I guess you’re right, I did want to be the one to introduce her to this place, you know, to make it a happier and easier transition for her.” He cleared his throat and proceeded to say, “I have to take you upstairs now for your session with the doctor, although I personally think you would be better at his job than he is. In the little time I’ve been here the way people come out of there is worse than when they went in. It’s just wrong; he should be helping them not making them worse.”
He smiled, a real smile, and at that point I realised I did have a friend in him. I had never found one in this place before. Interesting.
“Okay then let’s get going. I want to be in and out of his black chair as quickly as humanly possible.” With that I climbed into the fossilized wheelchair and Jake pushed me on our way.
We went to the end of the hall and waited by the lifts as Jake pressed the button. It took quite a while to come but when it did the doors opened quickly to reveal a man in a straight jacket accompanied by two large men holding him down in a wheelchair. He was frothing at the mouth; his eyes were rolled back appearing to be completely white.
‘Now that’s mad’, I thought to myself. He’s probably come from the shrink.
We waited until they had struggled out of the lift and slowly Jake turned my chair around and backed me into it. He selected the button for the second floor. I joked with the thought that ‘we are going the wrong way, the earth’s core is below ground.’
The light in the lift seemed just as fed up of being here in this place as I was, illuminating for a couple of seconds and then tuning off for a moments peace. I wish that I could turn off for a second or, better still, for the duration of the session with ‘Doctor Full of nonsense.’
We eventually arrived on the second floor. It looked so much nicer up here. The walls were painted in a tranquil blue and the floor was covered in a beige carpet. It all seemed totally different to what lay one floor below. The fact that this place possessed any colour apart from white blew my mind; it was quite sad really.
“Well, here we are Khedlar. I’ll be back in an hour when your session is up. I’ll collect you and take you back downstairs. See you later.”
Jake knocked on the polished solid wooden door and left. The knock started to create an uneasy and a queasy feeling in my gut. Here we go; the weekly boost of confidence and motivation, or truthfully put, the judgemental criticism and witnessing his true aerodynamic approach in really getting under my skin.
The door opened… There stood the man himself, an ugly man completely consumed with his tasteful clothes. He possessed the same smile as all the staff who worked here, but that quickly faded as I entered the room. He helped roll my wheelchair to the black chair, the black chair of true despair. This man was incapable of looking after a plant which was dying in the corner, withering away much like the patients in this place. It was obvious he didn’t have a clue how to look after anything or anyone else. His face was slightly tanned but he had large circles of pale skin around his eyes which seemed to me like he had gone skiing, the lucky snake I thought with resentment. The walls were painted in a burnt red and several frames displayed his Mickey Mouse certificates. They didn’t even look convincing from afar. The sound of classical music haunted the space and the smell of leather and polish filled the air. It was blatant that this man was obsessively compulsive as all his papers were in the correct place and his pens were spaced evenly to create balance, it was the only thing that helped me stay calm in this room.
I got up from the wheelchair and sat on the couch waiting for the stupid repetitive questions he had asked me since I had arrived at this place. He, or rather it, started.
“How are you feeling today, Khedlar? Good, I hope?” he asked, peering at me the way
people peer at their food before they eat it.
“Same as I have always felt, sick and tired of being here. I want to go home, to live out the last shred of life I have left,” I responded truthfully, and I thought quite sanely, although expecting him to feel my tension. But no, he just nodded and started writing notes. I hate having a conversation with someone when they don’t look at me.
“So tell me, do you remember why you’re here Khedlar? Have you started to recover those suppressed memories of the murders you committed?”
This man is relentless; he is convinced that I am a murderer. I sat up straighter in my chair, looked him dead in the eyes and then just simply blurted out, “No, how can I? I never killed anyone. I have never, nor will I ever remember anything, as I would never have killed them. I loved my wife even though she lost her love for me. I would never have hurt her, and as for my daughter, the thought is inconceivable!”
I sat back trying to restrain myself from hitting him. Who does he think he is? As I stared into his ugly face I wanted to gouge out his tongue and make him eat it! The nerve of this putrid sack of dog slime!
He proceeded to add to his notes, then he stopped and actually made eye contact for a second, when he said, “Well I did hope it would not come to this Khedlar, but you leave me no choice.”
He pressed a button on the side of his desk, it didn’t make a sound but I knew someone would be coming soon. He started to speak again.
“Khedlar. I had great hopes you would have recovered those memories by now and I am afraid we have not made any progress since you arrived here six years ago.”
He looked uncomfortable as he sat in his black prosecution chair.
“Six years?!” All that stayed in my head from that conversation was the number six. Six! Six years I have been here! My God, I never realised it was that long. I felt my legs turn to jelly and my hands started to perspire.
He oozed arrogance and had a smug face that only a mother could love and everyone else wanted to punch. I never understood the length of his sideburns and they would often distract me from what he was going on about. This time he had really pissed me off, I wanted my pound of flesh. My mind started to assess the contents of his office and I debated if it would be more effective to strangle him with the desk lights cable or just pound him with the beautifully symmetrical paperweight.
At that moment there was a knock at the door, a hard, firm knock. ‘It must be a guy,’ I thought to myself.
“Enter,” the doctor said as the padded door opened to reveal the same dark-featured, eerie man who had given me my last sleep-inducing injection. He walked slowly and stood beside the doctor holding a metal case. He placed the case down on the desk and opened it. ‘This is bad,’ I thought to myself. What are they going to do to me?
“Don’t be alarmed Khedlar. This won’t hurt much, just a slight prick,” the doctor explained as the dark-featured man approached me and slid my right sleeve up.
“What is this?” I asked the doctor with my voice reflecting my nerves.
“This is a truth serum, it might make you feel slightly strange as it has a calming chemical mixed into it. We are going to try to get to the root cause of your memory loss. Just hold still and let Greg here get on with it.”
Greg? So that was what this sunburnt ape was called! I breathed deeply for a few seconds and took myself to the back of my mind to prepare for the effects of the drugs.
He cleaned and sterilized my skin above the vein and proceeded to inject me. It stung like something terrible for a while, but minutes later the pain had subsided and I started to feel incredibly dizzy. I looked up to find the doctor and when I did he was changing colour to shades of blue, green, red, and purple.
What’s happening to me!? I screamed but no voice emerged from my mouth. I felt so weak, I slipped down into the chair as voices drifted in and out of my mind.
“Khedlar, Khedlar, can you hear me, move your hand or fingers if you can.” He sounded muffled and I had to strain myself to stay semi-conscious.
“He’s having… please go and get… he needs… assistance.” The doctor’s voice was now broken and I could barely hear a full sentence of what he was saying. What was happening to me?
I had a strange feeling, as if they were moving me but I had no vision; my eyes hurt and I knew at this point I was in trouble. I felt helpless and scared, confused as to what exactly had happened to me.
I lost inner thought and fell into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 9
The Hospital
I had sustained consciousness on and off several times but only for a few seconds. I slowly regained some of my sense of hearing as I heard sirens around me. They must have called an ambulance. This is bad, I thought to myself. But as the sirens got louder, I blacked out.
Next I felt like I was being wheeled out on a stretcher. I could hear people running. I think there must have been a few of them hovering over me at this point. All I saw were blurred faces; as if they had been distorted, in a hall of mirrors. Then everything went black.
It was shocking pain that brought me back to reality. It was so intense it made my chest feel really sore, then I passed out again. My hearing came back, still fuzzy, but I could make out what they were saying this time. It was a male and a female voice; they were standing by the foot of my bed.
“How could something like this happen, Doctor Zatanni? I don’t understand what that doctor over there was thinking, this man has serious heart problems, and if it had been a slightly higher dose then he would have died for sure.”
The female doctor replied, “Scary, the way some doctors work today. I’ve been told he never even read his medical file. That’s not just sloppy work, but has led to non-compatible drugs being administered and could well lead to a charge of attempted murder. I’m going to make some calls to ensure the general medical council hears about this guy, and that his licence is taken from him immediately.”
These doctors sounded completely professional and suspiciously trustworthy. At least Doctor Fanstick will get the boot for what he had done to me. He made his bed of thorns, now he had to lie in it, may he rot in his self-made prison and I will be free of him at last.
“Nurse,” the female doctor called, “keep a close eye on this patient. If there are any change in his blood pressure, pulse or temperature page me immediately.”
“Yes doctor, I will.”
The nurse also seemed surprisingly sincere. I had forgotten what that sounded like, being in that place for so long. A miscarriage of professionalism had become such common conduct in that circus, it made these people feel ironically, almost too real.
My mind paused for a moment, wondering if this was real or if I had died and this was my limbo. Is there such a thing as heaven or hell? My thoughts scraped down the rusty track of my past existence, how peaceful it was when my mind was blank. Why did they bring me back?
I think it was a day or two before I could even gather the strength to move or speak. Days overlapped and voices echoed in the distant void of my weakened state. At several points I wanted to scream but my mouth would simply open and shut with no words voiced.
One morning I awoke feeling a lot better. I looked at my arm where the Intra-Venus drip was inserted and followed the line to the bag; it seemed to be what they give you when you are unable to eat or drink. All the essentials your body needs to live. Just trying to think was a difficult chore, so I decided to give it a miss for a while to allow my body time to recuperate.
“Good morning,” a woman’s voice said in a soft tone. I just managed to turn my head to look at who it was. I was still quite slow in motion as I was very weak. My body felt beaten up and bruised with no will to recuperate quickly. This had started to stress me out, although the more time here meant less time back at the white hell and I was happy with that. These were the Pros but the negative effects of pain killers was having constipation, nausea and flatulence that was so intense it would make your eyes water.
There
stood a doctor in her white coat, a stethoscope hanging around her neck. She had curly brown hair and must have been in her thirties. She had a nice voice and smiled once but did not use a fake, permanent one. Had I been here all along and the white hell was just a manifestation that my fractured mind had created? I turned my head to face the doctor which felt like it moved in slow motion, as if my head was surrounded in water and my mind was struggling to visually keep up. Like an over-exposed shot my eyes tried to piece together the images of movement and sound.
“How are you feeling today Mr Slater? Better, I hope? I am Doctor Greendale. You gave us a few scares. We had to shock your heart a couple of times as it gave in, so your chest may feel a little sore but this discomfort should disappear after a few days.” She sounded very clever and her tone was calming and reassuring.
“Well, what happened? I mean did the doctor back at the loony bin try to kill me on purpose?” I asked, feeling vulnerable and extremely angry.
“Well, we hope not. I think this was all a case of not following medical procedure. Mistakes like not checking a patient’s file for past medical history or problems, as well as allergies, is a big issue. This really should be standard practice.” She sounded disappointed and disapproving as she explained.
“So doc, how long will I be here before I have to go back to that hellhole?” I asked, hoping she would say at least a week. The more time I had here the better.
“This will take some time, probably a couple of weeks as the root cause for your reaction to the drug he gave you has not been completely identified. We will have to take more bloods from you and run further tests to see what caused it. We also need to see if there is any permanent damage to your body, both physically and mentally. You did have a cardiac arrest and damage is not uncommon. If there are any more questions please don’t hesitate to ask. I will be by later to check on you, but for now please rest and try to get your strength back.” With this encouraging news she walked out of my room.
Psycho-Analysis: The Beginning Page 7
