Session Seven
August Seventeenth was approaching quickly. And I was no where near getting the information that I wanted. Either on prot or the Doctor and I was beginning to question whether or not I was adequate as a psychiatrist
The Doctor was right in the account that I never wanted to be a psychiatrist. It was brought on by my father's sudden death when I was an adolescent. My father had a heart-attack. At the time of his death CPR, was not widely used or known. I just stood there not knowing what to do and he expired right in front of my eyes. Beforehand I wanted to be an actor on Broadway. I was always fond of singing, but after my father's death I felt driven towards medicine. But when I was in medical school I was completely turned off by medicine when I had to dissect my first cadaver. The thought of cutting into a once living person chilled me to my very core and it was then that I decided that psychiatry was a less sanguinary profession.
A new patient had come to MPI, and I will call him Chuck. He once was a doorman at his apartment complex and had no previous mental problems. He was very much a curmudgeon. His main reason as to why he was transferred to the hospital was that he complained that everyone stank. When he came in even the most cleanly washed patient that was here stank. The hospital stank and even the staff stank. The only two people he stated didn't stink were prot and the Doctor. From what I heard from the staff, the Doctor found the whole situation amusing and seemed quite pleased in a strange way to be told that he didn't 'stink.' As for prot, he kept his opinions to himself.
Then the next day, after I ended up talking to prot and the Doctor, I received a call that a freelance reporter was coming in planning to do research on mental illness. She wanted to know if it was okay for her to come in and research at our facilities. I transferred her call to the front desk so that she might be able to set up an appointment.
When I talked to prot in my last session, I asked him for a demonstration of how he could travel faster than light. I was slightly disappointed when he stated, "Aloha….Shalom." I insisted that he had not moved at all and called it the 'fastest gun in the west routine.' He smiled lightly and stated that I would notice it the next week when he decided to leave for Canada, Iceland, and Greenland.
I didn't really believe this though and when I asked how long he would be gone, he stated that he would be gone for a few days. But I decided not to take chances and so I decided to up surveillance on him.
A couple of days later, I had found that prot had assigned another task to Howie, and that was to cure Ernie of his fear of death.
I was very concerned about prot assigning tasks to fellow patients and decided the next time I saw him I would talk to him, but when it was time for our next session that following week, no one could find him. Prot had disappeared. A search around the facilities was made but no trace could be found even on the security cameras.
And none of the patients seemed too concerned about it. I have no reason why I asked but when I asked the Doctor about it, he just grinned amusedly and said, "He did tell you, didn't he? Maybe you really ought to listen to someone when they say they are leaving. I could find him for you, but….nah…..that wouldn't be any fun. He'll be back. Besides he took his sunglasses with him. He won't need them when he goes home."
I shook my head frustrated at that whole statement. The Doctor then proceeded to prop his feet up and went back to reading Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
In the midst of this whole thing, the reporter arrived. She was thirty-three but looked as though she was only sixteen. She wore faded jeans, an old checked shirt, and running shoes with no socks. I first thought that freelance journalism must be a really poor career. But she informed me that she dressed this way in order to help people relax. She wore very little makeup and just a light hint of perfume. She was short, about five-two, and her teeth were tiny, like a little girl's. She stated to me that her name was Giselle. I talked to her briefly and found out that she had very impressive credentials and even had been awarded a few times for some of her various pieces. I granted her permission to go and make a few rounds in the hospital as long as a staff member was present.
Most of the patients went about their business with her around, but the Doctor seemed to take an immediate interest in her. When I asked him about it, he said that he liked reporters, and that Giselle reminded him of a friend of his.
I raised an eyebrow, "A friend?"
"Yes. We use to travel together. She reminds me of her."
"What was her name?"
The Doctor chuckled lightly but refused to give too much of an answer, finally I managed to get one name out of him and that was the name Sarah.
I had another clue, a reporter named Sarah. Perhaps Giselle might be able to help. Although it was very much a long shot, since there had to be dozens of reporters by the name of Sarah.
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A/N: Kind of a short chapter, but wanted to work around prot's disappearance and have what the Doctor would say about it an intro a few things about Gene's life and other patients as well. Thanks to all those who have reviewed. Please R/R
