Woman Who Could Not Forget

by Richard Rhodes

  We stayed in the same room of the hotel Iris had stayed in. The hotel was very close to the airport. The takeoffs and landings of the airplanes were so noisy that it was impossible for us to fall asleep. No wonder Iris could not sleep, I thought. I turned on the TV and checked all the channels and could not see anything unusual on the screen. It was a very standard hotel room: a queen-size bed, a round table, two chairs, and a TV on a dresser. I imagined that the veteran and his wife must have been sitting on the chairs beside the bed when they’d communicated with me on his cell phone the whole morning the day before.

  I was exhausted by the trip and by visiting Iris in the hospital, but I could not fall asleep like Shau-Jin—he could sleep easily under any condition. I could not sleep. There were many questions haunting me: Could this hotel room be wired? Could the pictures she saw on the TV screen have been set up by someone to threaten her, as she suspected? Could someone really be after her, as Iris thought? Why was a person looking at her window in the middle of the night? Was it her imagination, or was it real? I could not answer those questions that night, and I cannot answer them today. It’s still a big question mark in my mind.

  Although her concerns might seem unfounded, I can’t dismiss them because I know that Iris was a very sensitive person and very observant in every situation. She could detect many subtle signals or messages that most people would miss. One fact to illustrate how brilliant her instinct was: she was able to detect that her son, Christopher, had autism when he was only twenty-two months old, whereas no one else, not her husband or her relatives, nor even Shau-Jin and I, were able to detect any issues at that time. Now we know indeed Christopher has a mild to moderate autism disorder, which the doctor diagnosed when he was over three years old. Therefore, I cannot easily disregard Iris’s complaints or suspicions of some of the situations she described to me.

  Early on Sunday, August 15, I was awakened by the thunder of airplanes as they flew in and out of the Louisville airport. It seemed the hotel had been built directly under the flight path of the runway. The sound made my heart pump faster, and Shau-Jin and I got up quickly and took a taxi straight to the hospital to see Iris.

  As soon as we reached the hospital, I made it very clear to the nurses that we needed to take Iris home as soon as possible, preferably the next day. The nurses agreed that it seemed there was no reason they should keep her there. They could see how Iris trusted us and how she felt comforted when we were around. The head nurse paged the doctor to get a consent form. Since I’d told them that I had to change the return airline ticket for Iris and confirm our reservation, we needed to know for sure that the doctor would allow her to go home. The doctor finally said yes, and then the nurses began to write reports and summaries for us to bring home.

  It was a hectic day. I was on the phone a lot to make all the travel arrangements. At the same time, Shau-Jin and I spent the whole day with Iris in the Psychiatric Unit. Brett called to check on her. Michael also called and asked what he could do. I told him he could pick us up at the airport when we arrived in San Jose the next day.

  In the evening, the doctor finally came and met with us. He briefed us on Iris’s condition in front of us all. He believed Iris had experienced a so-called “brief reactive psychosis” due to stress conditions such as lack of sleep and food. He added that her condition could also be a possible onset of a bipolar disorder and recommended that Iris see a doctor for followup after her return home.

  When we told him we lived in the San Francisco Bay area of California, his eyes lit up and he stated that the Stanford Medical Center had a doctor who was the world’s leading expert and the best psychiatrist for treatment for bipolar disorder. He gave us a reference. He also prescribed an antipsychotic drug, Risperdal (risperidone, from Janssen Pharmaceutica), 2 mg a day, for Iris to take for at least a year.

  This was the first time we had ever heard of bipolar disorder, and worried about the side effects of the drug, but he assured us that the medicine was safe and had been in use for over ten years. Iris asked the doctor many questions, as she was not at all certain that she wanted to take the drug. We told her that we would also consult another doctor after returning home.

  At the time, we didn’t have a chance to tell the doctor of Iris’s recent history of worry about her son’s possible autism and its contribution to Iris’s sleep deprivation and toll on her energy just prior to this trip to Kentucky. Without knowing this history, it is understandable why the doctor would have speculated about the possible onset of bipolar disorder. We, as well as Iris, never believed that bipolar disorder was the correct diagnosis.

  The next morning, Monday, August 16, we finished the discharge procedure in the hospital and took Iris back to the hotel. As we rode in the taxi, Iris made some strange remarks about the advertisements on the billboards along the side of the road, which we did not understand.

  When we reached the hotel room, it was near noon, and the August sunshine was very bright. We unlocked the room and went in. Iris sat down on the bed and surveyed the whole room with her wary eyes slowly and silently. She also turned on the TV and checked all the channels. We did not see anything abnormal. Iris did not say a word and just sat there. When it was time to leave, she took her suitcases and gave a last uncertain glance at the room. We left for the airport.

  We had a layover at O’Hare. During the waiting period, Iris wanted to go to a bookstore, so I went with her. While she was looking at all the magazine covers in the airport bookstore, she again made some comments that I didn’t understand. She was absorbed with her own thoughts. She seemed absent-minded and sometimes a little confused.

  When we finally landed at the San Jose airport, we called Michael to come pick us up. While we were waiting for Michael, Iris said that she felt dizzy and had a headache. She told me that things seemed distorted to her and that the expressions of people around her were strange.

  At the time, we did not know how powerful psychiatric drugs were and thought that Iris’s behavior was strange. I later realized that while in the hospital, Iris had been given heavy doses of Risperdal and a tranquilizer to calm her down. The side effects of psychiatric drugs could be severe; that explained why she felt dizzy and had a headache and distortion of her visual perception.

  Finally, we spotted Michael’s car, and he drove all of us to Iris’s home. As soon as we walked into her house, we found Brett, Luann, and Christopher about to have dinner. Ping had prepared many dishes for them. It was obvious that the dinner table was too small for four extra people. The four of us stood there, appearing very awkward. I could see that Iris was not very happy with this scene, and she told us she wanted to go to our house to rest. Brett came over soon after and spent the evening with her until she was ready to rest.

  An Untimely Death

  After returning from Louisville, Iris stayed with us in our home. With Luann watching over Christopher and our house being much quieter, Iris chose to stay with us in the hope that she could sleep better. After the trauma she’d suffered in Louisville, we also wanted her with us, so we could watch over her to make sure she would be fully recovered. Brett was very busy with his work, and therefore Shau-Jin and I were helping him to find a psychiatrist for Iris. In my search for a psychiatrist, I discovered that the famous doctor at Stanford whom the psychiatrist in Louisville had recommended was not accepting any new patients. In addition, almost none of the psychiatrists listed on Brett’s Cisco health insurance plan were available. There apparently was a shortage of psychiatrists in the Bay area.

  Tuesday, August 17, the day after Iris returned home, was Iris and Brett’s thirteenth wedding anniversary. While I was frantically trying to find a psychiatrist for Iris, she was only interested in shopping. I sent Shau-Jin to accompany her because she was still moody and had been instructed not to drive while taking Risperdal. Iris had started to take 2 mg of Risperdal per day since her hospitalization in Louisville.

  When Iris came home from the shopping mall, she looked exceptionall
y beautiful. As it turned out, she had gone to a cosmetic shop and asked a cosmetician to give her a makeover. She looked like a movie star! That night, Brett came to take her out to dinner to celebrate their anniversary. For some reason, I could see that Iris was still unhappy even though we all complimented her. Her breakdown in Louisville must have had a profound impact on her.

  Iris continued to take 2 mg of Risperdal every day, as the doctor in Louisville had prescribed. The medicine made her sleepy and less energetic. In our family and among our relatives, no one had ever had the experience of seeing a psychiatrist or taking antipsychotic drugs. Therefore, we had no idea of the effects of the drug. On the surface, Iris looked normal; but none of us knew, at the time, the strong adverse side effects of a drug such as Risperdal. I drove Iris everywhere, anywhere she wanted to go, because it was unsafe for her to drive while she was on the medication. Family members who didn’t realize this got the wrong impression: that I was overly protective.

  On Monday, August 23, Iris finally had an appointment with Dr. A, a psychiatrist from Brett’s health plan. Brett came to pick her up, and we went with them. I presented to Dr. A a detailed medical note I had written about what happened in Louisville, and a copy of the hospital report.

  Dr. A listened to us. He was quite laid-back and did not make any comments. Then he said he was about to take off for a month’s vacation and would follow up with Iris only upon his return. He did not say anything concerning Iris’s mental condition. Iris did ask him about stopping the medication, but he persuaded her to continue taking it until he came back.

  In the meantime, I found out that Dr. A was not a board-certified psychiatrist. I began desperately looking for a board-certified psychiatrist for Iris; additionally, I didn’t want to wait for Dr. A to return from his vacation. Finally, after an intensive search, I found Dr. B, who had graduated from a reputable university. I highly recommended Dr. B to Brett, but Dr. B was not on the list of Brett’s medical insurance plan. That meant Brett and Iris would have to pay extra medical expenses out of their own pockets if Iris went to see him, but we all agreed that Iris should see Dr. B until she could get in to see a qualified psychiatrist from Brett’s health plan.

  On Wednesday, August 25, Iris, Brett, Shau-Jin, and I went to see Dr. B. I handed him the summary I’d written about Iris’s situation in Louisville. We also told him about her worries over her son’s autism. Dr. B did not say very much, but comforted Iris. He said he would see her the next week to follow up.

  In the meantime, Iris was still worried about Christopher. Although I was actively looking into the literature about autism and also closely observing Christopher’s behavior, I could not decisively say either way. Indeed, Christopher would turn two in a few days, and it was too early to come to any conclusions. In my mind, children’s development varied tremendously from one individual to the other. We comforted Iris and told her she should wait and continue to watch his development.

  Both Brett’s and Christopher’s birthdays were near the end of August. To celebrate their birthdays, Ken also flew in from Illinois. Iris wanted to get a birthday gift for Brett. I drove her to Westfield Shopping Mall. We wandered in the mall for two hours before she finally decided on a gift for him. Then she began looking for a birthday gift for Christopher, who would turn two on August 31. In retrospect, she had just come back home from her breakdown less than two weeks before, and she was already resuming her duties as a wife and mother. Even though she was moody and unhappy, she seemed to be functioning well.

  Sunday, August 29 was our fortieth wedding anniversary. The invitations for about fifty people had been sent out before Iris’s breakdown. Now that the time was approaching, my mind was so occupied with Iris and her recent breakdown that I was really not in the mood for a celebration. I almost wanted to cancel the whole event, but it was too late. No one could imagine my suffering at the time.

  On the day of our anniversary, Iris said that she and Luann had taken Christopher to a party sponsored by the fertility clinic where Christopher was born. After she returned, she told me that she’d enjoyed talking to all the parents who, just like her, had had their children through the same method. She looked very tired when I saw her that evening.

  Our fortieth anniversary party was in the evening at a Chinese restaurant. Iris was dressed beautifully. However, I could see that she was tired and looked very sleepy. It could have been due to all the activities on that day, or to the Risperdal. At the party, after several relatives spoke, everyone expected Iris to say a few words. After all, she was such a seasoned public speaker. I was very anxious and worried that people might notice that something was wrong. Up to that moment, no one knew; even our close relatives did not know what had recently happened. Iris didn’t want us to tell anyone. We understood that she was a very private person and honored her wish. With everyone’s eyes turned toward Iris, she stood up with her glass of red wine and said, “I’d like to make a toast to my parents for making it to their fortieth anniversary; I don’t know if I will be that lucky. . . .” Her words were very soft and slow, in contrast to her usual style. Some relatives noticed the unusual way Iris behaved on that day because they had known Iris for a long time. After she passed away, they told us that they had detected something strange about her on that day.

  Two days later, August 31, was Christopher’s second birthday. In the morning, Iris and I took him to the Gymboree in the Westgate Mall. After that, she shopped in a party store and bought a dozen variously colored and shaped argon-filled balloons. We had a hard time squeezing the balloons into the car. Christopher sat in his rear car seat and was very happy, screaming “balloon, balloon.” Iris also ordered a big ice cream birthday cake.

  In the evening, we all gathered in Iris’s town house, including Ken, Luann, and Michael. In spite of the house being filled with brightly colored balloons and gifts, there seemed a lack of celebratory atmosphere. Iris took many pictures of Christopher. It was a briefly happy occasion, but there was a sense of uncertainty in the air. This was the last birthday party Iris spent with Christopher. The next day, Ken and Luann left for Illinois.

  Once Ken and Luann left, Iris went back to her own house to sleep. She said she had many things to do. She needed to find a preschool for Christopher right away, so he could play with other kids. Therefore, I devoted myself to helping her with that project. Finally, we found one located in the heart of a quiet residential area of Santa Clara, about a twenty-minute drive from home. Later, we took Iris and Christopher to visit the school; and on September 13, Iris enrolled Christopher in the preschool.

  Iris was now seeing Dr. B once a week, and she persuaded him to reduce her dosage of Risperdal by half (1 mg from 2). From the very beginning, Iris did not like to take any drugs, and she kept trying to reduce the dosage or stop it entirely. The rest of the family was hoping that with the Risperdal, Iris would be less depressed, but to no avail: there was no difference.

  On Wednesday, September 9, Iris took Christopher to see his doctor in Palo Alto, and I went along to help her. Christopher’s pediatrician was a woman doctor who had been seeing him since he was born. The doctor maintained that she did not think Christopher had autism, or at least she could not see it at this stage. She found that Christopher was physically healthy, except for an allergy problem. But she suggested that Iris consult an autism specialist, and gave her a number of names in an effort to ease her worry.

  In the meantime, Iris could not sleep at night again in her house with Christopher next to her bedroom. Since Risperdal has a sedative effect, her sleep problems might have also been due to her decreased dosage. In any case, we suggested that she sleep in our house. Ping could come to work late in the afternoon and stay overnight to take care of Christopher. Ping said she would give it a try.

  The next time Dr. B saw Iris, he learned that her condition had not improved and that her problem with insomnia had resumed with the reduced 1-mg dosage of Risperdal. He wanted to change the drug and prescribed a similar antipsy
chotic drug called Abilify (aripiprazole, from Bristol-Myers Squibb). I immediately searched for information about this drug on the Internet and found that it was a relatively new drug. Some users called it a wonder drug; others said it had serious side effects on them. Without knowing anything about antipsychotic drugs, we listened to the doctor. As soon as Iris took the Abilify, 10 mg, she became excessively sleepy. She could sleep for twelve hours or more straight. Iris now essentially lived with us in our house, so I carefully recorded the kind of drugs and the dosage she took and the effect of the drug on her. Later, I gave a copy of her medical chart to Brett so we both could monitor her medicine intake.

  Iris was so sleepy on Abilify that she was not able to get up in the morning to take Christopher to preschool. So Shau-Jin and I took him to the preschool in the morning and picked him up in the afternoon. Iris yawned all the time and did not have any energy to work.

  Then Ping said that she could not stay overnight five times a week. At best, she said, she could only work three nights a week. Shau-Jin and I also felt physically and mentally drained from taking care of Iris. Therefore, Brett called Luann in Illinois, and she agreed to come to help. Iris felt that her illness and inability to take care of Christopher was a burden to everyone, something she hated. I could see that she was very sad and that she felt helpless.

  On Saturday, September 18, because Iris’s condition was not improving, Brett and I both called Dr. B to express our concerns. He immediately arranged a meeting that afternoon and asked all of us to come. That afternoon, since Luann had arrived from Illinois and could watch Christopher, we went with Iris and Brett to Dr. B’s office. He heard our briefing on Iris. We described that Iris could not get rid of her worries and her excessive drowsiness and lack of energy since she started taking the drug Abilify. Dr. B stunned us all with what he said next—in a very serious tone, he said he thought Iris’s condition was very grave, and he suggested that Iris check into a recovery facility. He said the facility was in Sausalito near the beach; it was quiet and ideal for mental patients to recuperate. As soon as Iris heard this, she immediately showed her disapproval. I could understand her suspicion of any facility designed for so-called “mental patients.” She had learned many historical instances of government persecution of political dissidents. One way was to put those dissidents into mental institutions and abuse them, sometimes leading to death. I did not blame her for her suspicions. She was already suspecting that evil forces were at work against her for what she had written and done in the name of justice.