Chapter 32
The following Monday morning found Grissom in his office, penning another incorrect answer onto his crossword puzzle. Telling himself he was merely being observant and not eavesdropping, he tried to make out the conversation in the hallway. When he realized Nick was talking about a new video game and not Sara, he let out a frustrated sigh.
He hated relying on second-hand conversations to monitor her condition, but it was nearly his only source of information left. Absent-mindedly, he filled in another clue and debated going to the break room to spend the rest of his break. Normally, it held the best chance of overhearing interesting tidbits.
Rejecting that idea, Grissom turned his head, trying to relieve the tension in his neck. Going to the break room would only make the others tense. Most of the team had developed the habit of shutting up in his presence. Since his breakfast conversation with Catherine, they were no longer openly hostile, but they weren't openly friendly, either. That implied she hadn't told them the entire story.
Under normal circumstances, he would have welcomed that act of discretion, but now he was left without an intelligence source. Sara had come into work earlier that evening looking especially sad and he wanted to know if she was all right. Catherine was processing the scene of a bungled kidnapping and he knew it would be hours before she would be free to go check.
He turned his attention back to his puzzle and groaned. Not only had his last answer been wrong, it was misspelled and he didn't even get it inside the grid. His worries were starting to affect his concentration. The constant state of uncertainty was taking a toll on him.
Glancing at his watch, he decided to get back to work. He wanted to leave as early as possible at the end of shift and visit the one person who had a chance of giving him the answers he needed.
~~~~~
Grissom approached the office hesitantly and knocked softly. "You have a minute?"
"A few. What can I do for you, Gil?" Philip Kane asked kindly.
"I honestly have no idea."
"Come on in, have a seat. I assume you're here about Sara."
Crossing to the indicated chair, he nodded. "I know doctor-patient confidentiality prevents you from discussing Sara's case specifically, but I was wondering if you could answer some questions in general about the condition."
"Actually, Sara waived confidentiality. I'm free, to a point, to answer your questions about her condition. There are still some areas that she's not comfortable having discussed."
"Sara did that?" he asked, raising a puzzled eyebrow.
"Yes. I have the form she signed. You seem surprised."
"I am," Grissom responded honestly. "She's usually a private person. I wouldn't have thought she'd make the details of her treatment available to others."
"True. But the waiver is limited to discussing her condition with just you."
"What? Why?"
"She figured that eventually you'd come to me looking for answers and that you wouldn't be satisfied by hypotheticals. She's concerned about you and is willing to bypass her privacy to put you at ease."
Kane watched the entomologist carefully. Sara's worries about her supervisor made him suspect her feelings went deeper than just friendship. When the brief smile on Grissom's face was replaced by a guilty look, Kane wondered if the feelings were mutual.
"This doesn't involve me, Philip. I'm ...," he paused, refusing to say 'fine', "... all right. She shouldn't be worrying about me. Sara needs to worry about herself," he said, turning to look away in disgust. Grissom berated himself for feeling happy that Sara still cared enough to make that sacrifice, when she needed to be taking care of herself.
"Of course, it involves you, Gil. You're someone ... close ... to Sara. You don't stop caring about others just because you're facing a problem." Kane paused when another guilty look crossed his face.
"Is she going to be okay?" Grissom asked quickly, trying to change the subject.
"In my professional opinion, I don't see this causing her a permanent disability."
"But that's not the same as saying she's going to recover completely."
"Not many completely recover. Don't panic, let me explain. This is where we switch to generalities. It's entirely possible for someone to recover from a traumatic event to the point where they can live a normal life, but most will still have some after-effects. Usually, they're mild, although some can be debilitating. I don't think Sara will have any serious problems, but it's too soon to say for certain."
"I'm not sure I'm following you." Grissom leaned forward in his chair; this wasn't the type of answer he wanted.
"Someone who was mauled may never be comfortable around animals again. Someone who nearly drowned may never go swimming again. Except for those things, their lives will be completely the same, but they will still carry those ... limitations ... with them."
"That makes sense."
"Now, for some people, the limitation is nothing more than a feeling of discomfort when exposed to a trigger - something that will remind them of the original trauma. For others, the exposure can cause a full-fledge panic attack."
"And there's no way of knowing what will be a trigger for Sara until she is exposed to it. Or how severe her reaction will be," Grissom realized sadly.
"For Sara, it could be that she may never be comfortable driving behind a school bus. She could have a panic attack if exposed to a dead child. There's no way of predicting," Kane said. "Or, she could be one of the ones who never develop a trigger."
"Philip, Sara will be constantly exposed to potential triggers at the job. We see dead children too often. Crime scenes can be gruesome; blood everywhere. Then there are the actual accident scenes."
"True."
"What do we do?"
Kane smiled at Grissom's use of the word 'we'. Despite being the object of Sara's temper, he was still willing to help.
"I think it's safe to start easing Sara back into her old job. Let's keep her in the lab for now, but start with non-threatening tasks. If there's some paper trail to chase, a fiber that needs to be examined, offer it to her. If she can handle those without trouble, we'll start with other tasks around the lab. If there's no problems with those, then we'll see if she can handle being at actual scenes. It's entirely possible that nothing on the job will be a trigger, or severe enough that it can't be worked around."
"Or any number of things could be triggers. Damn. Philip, she loves her job. If she can't return to it, I don't know what she'll do. It means too much to her. It would be devastating to her."
"Not necessarily."
"What do you mean?"
"Back to generalities, Gil. It's not uncommon when faced with a situation like this for someone to re-evaluate her life. People often find their priorities change." He turned around and picked up an old-fashioned alarm clock from the credenza. "Clocks are amazing things, really. We take them for granted. They are very complex machines, but must most people never really take the time to study one.
"Now, sometimes, you drop one and the cover will come off. You get your first look at the insides. Sometimes a piece may come loose and you need to examine the whole clock in order to fit it back in. You examine things you never would have given another thought to before. Sometimes, you don't always put things back exactly as you found them. Occasionally, a piece gets left out. But it's still a clock when you're done."
Grissom scowled. He didn't like this analogy. "And sometimes the clock is broken forever!"
Kane chuckled. "It's rarely that bad, especially when there's a watchmaker supervising."
He watched as Grissom rubbed his face nervously. Kane went over to his file cabinet and started searching for a file. "I'm optimistic about Sara, Gil. She is stable and the fact she was able to respond at the scene is a positive sign." He passed photographs from the accident to the entomologist. "Very few people - only about 20 percent of the population - are able to function positively in very stressful situations. Look at the crowd. Scores of people were there. Only a handful helped Sara. She was the only one to go on the bus."
Grissom scanned the photos carefully. He had seen them in the newspapers and on television broadcasts, but he had never really examined them. Sara was confident, calm and clearly in charge at the scene. It was hard to reconcile the woman in the photos with her current state.
"It hardly seems like this is the same person."
"You're worried about her?"
"Yes, I'm worried about her. This has been rough on her. I don't know what to do."
"And that bothers you?" He held up his hands in apology. "Sorry. Occupational hazard. It's frustrating, though, wanting to help, but being kept away."
"This isn't about me," Grissom repeated, trying not to sound defensive.
"Of course. But it doesn't mean you weren't caught in the cross-fire. It's confusing, isn't it? What seems like it would be productive actually backfires. That keeping your distance can be a good thing when it feels like you should move closer."
Grissom eyed the psychologist warily before letting out a resigned sigh. "I want to help. I do. But I need to know what to do. I'm not good at this type of thing."
Kane smiled and pulled out a ledger. "I do have an appointment coming up, Gil, so we're going to have to end this. Are you free on Wednesday, around 10 a.m.? I have some free time then. I'll pencil you in for an hour. Just in case you have some more questions."
He nodded reluctantly as he left the room. Pausing at the door, he turned to Kane. "Philip, tell her, well, tell her I'm still willing to help. She just has to ask."
"That's good to know, Gil. I'll pass it along."
The following Monday morning found Grissom in his office, penning another incorrect answer onto his crossword puzzle. Telling himself he was merely being observant and not eavesdropping, he tried to make out the conversation in the hallway. When he realized Nick was talking about a new video game and not Sara, he let out a frustrated sigh.
He hated relying on second-hand conversations to monitor her condition, but it was nearly his only source of information left. Absent-mindedly, he filled in another clue and debated going to the break room to spend the rest of his break. Normally, it held the best chance of overhearing interesting tidbits.
Rejecting that idea, Grissom turned his head, trying to relieve the tension in his neck. Going to the break room would only make the others tense. Most of the team had developed the habit of shutting up in his presence. Since his breakfast conversation with Catherine, they were no longer openly hostile, but they weren't openly friendly, either. That implied she hadn't told them the entire story.
Under normal circumstances, he would have welcomed that act of discretion, but now he was left without an intelligence source. Sara had come into work earlier that evening looking especially sad and he wanted to know if she was all right. Catherine was processing the scene of a bungled kidnapping and he knew it would be hours before she would be free to go check.
He turned his attention back to his puzzle and groaned. Not only had his last answer been wrong, it was misspelled and he didn't even get it inside the grid. His worries were starting to affect his concentration. The constant state of uncertainty was taking a toll on him.
Glancing at his watch, he decided to get back to work. He wanted to leave as early as possible at the end of shift and visit the one person who had a chance of giving him the answers he needed.
~~~~~
Grissom approached the office hesitantly and knocked softly. "You have a minute?"
"A few. What can I do for you, Gil?" Philip Kane asked kindly.
"I honestly have no idea."
"Come on in, have a seat. I assume you're here about Sara."
Crossing to the indicated chair, he nodded. "I know doctor-patient confidentiality prevents you from discussing Sara's case specifically, but I was wondering if you could answer some questions in general about the condition."
"Actually, Sara waived confidentiality. I'm free, to a point, to answer your questions about her condition. There are still some areas that she's not comfortable having discussed."
"Sara did that?" he asked, raising a puzzled eyebrow.
"Yes. I have the form she signed. You seem surprised."
"I am," Grissom responded honestly. "She's usually a private person. I wouldn't have thought she'd make the details of her treatment available to others."
"True. But the waiver is limited to discussing her condition with just you."
"What? Why?"
"She figured that eventually you'd come to me looking for answers and that you wouldn't be satisfied by hypotheticals. She's concerned about you and is willing to bypass her privacy to put you at ease."
Kane watched the entomologist carefully. Sara's worries about her supervisor made him suspect her feelings went deeper than just friendship. When the brief smile on Grissom's face was replaced by a guilty look, Kane wondered if the feelings were mutual.
"This doesn't involve me, Philip. I'm ...," he paused, refusing to say 'fine', "... all right. She shouldn't be worrying about me. Sara needs to worry about herself," he said, turning to look away in disgust. Grissom berated himself for feeling happy that Sara still cared enough to make that sacrifice, when she needed to be taking care of herself.
"Of course, it involves you, Gil. You're someone ... close ... to Sara. You don't stop caring about others just because you're facing a problem." Kane paused when another guilty look crossed his face.
"Is she going to be okay?" Grissom asked quickly, trying to change the subject.
"In my professional opinion, I don't see this causing her a permanent disability."
"But that's not the same as saying she's going to recover completely."
"Not many completely recover. Don't panic, let me explain. This is where we switch to generalities. It's entirely possible for someone to recover from a traumatic event to the point where they can live a normal life, but most will still have some after-effects. Usually, they're mild, although some can be debilitating. I don't think Sara will have any serious problems, but it's too soon to say for certain."
"I'm not sure I'm following you." Grissom leaned forward in his chair; this wasn't the type of answer he wanted.
"Someone who was mauled may never be comfortable around animals again. Someone who nearly drowned may never go swimming again. Except for those things, their lives will be completely the same, but they will still carry those ... limitations ... with them."
"That makes sense."
"Now, for some people, the limitation is nothing more than a feeling of discomfort when exposed to a trigger - something that will remind them of the original trauma. For others, the exposure can cause a full-fledge panic attack."
"And there's no way of knowing what will be a trigger for Sara until she is exposed to it. Or how severe her reaction will be," Grissom realized sadly.
"For Sara, it could be that she may never be comfortable driving behind a school bus. She could have a panic attack if exposed to a dead child. There's no way of predicting," Kane said. "Or, she could be one of the ones who never develop a trigger."
"Philip, Sara will be constantly exposed to potential triggers at the job. We see dead children too often. Crime scenes can be gruesome; blood everywhere. Then there are the actual accident scenes."
"True."
"What do we do?"
Kane smiled at Grissom's use of the word 'we'. Despite being the object of Sara's temper, he was still willing to help.
"I think it's safe to start easing Sara back into her old job. Let's keep her in the lab for now, but start with non-threatening tasks. If there's some paper trail to chase, a fiber that needs to be examined, offer it to her. If she can handle those without trouble, we'll start with other tasks around the lab. If there's no problems with those, then we'll see if she can handle being at actual scenes. It's entirely possible that nothing on the job will be a trigger, or severe enough that it can't be worked around."
"Or any number of things could be triggers. Damn. Philip, she loves her job. If she can't return to it, I don't know what she'll do. It means too much to her. It would be devastating to her."
"Not necessarily."
"What do you mean?"
"Back to generalities, Gil. It's not uncommon when faced with a situation like this for someone to re-evaluate her life. People often find their priorities change." He turned around and picked up an old-fashioned alarm clock from the credenza. "Clocks are amazing things, really. We take them for granted. They are very complex machines, but must most people never really take the time to study one.
"Now, sometimes, you drop one and the cover will come off. You get your first look at the insides. Sometimes a piece may come loose and you need to examine the whole clock in order to fit it back in. You examine things you never would have given another thought to before. Sometimes, you don't always put things back exactly as you found them. Occasionally, a piece gets left out. But it's still a clock when you're done."
Grissom scowled. He didn't like this analogy. "And sometimes the clock is broken forever!"
Kane chuckled. "It's rarely that bad, especially when there's a watchmaker supervising."
He watched as Grissom rubbed his face nervously. Kane went over to his file cabinet and started searching for a file. "I'm optimistic about Sara, Gil. She is stable and the fact she was able to respond at the scene is a positive sign." He passed photographs from the accident to the entomologist. "Very few people - only about 20 percent of the population - are able to function positively in very stressful situations. Look at the crowd. Scores of people were there. Only a handful helped Sara. She was the only one to go on the bus."
Grissom scanned the photos carefully. He had seen them in the newspapers and on television broadcasts, but he had never really examined them. Sara was confident, calm and clearly in charge at the scene. It was hard to reconcile the woman in the photos with her current state.
"It hardly seems like this is the same person."
"You're worried about her?"
"Yes, I'm worried about her. This has been rough on her. I don't know what to do."
"And that bothers you?" He held up his hands in apology. "Sorry. Occupational hazard. It's frustrating, though, wanting to help, but being kept away."
"This isn't about me," Grissom repeated, trying not to sound defensive.
"Of course. But it doesn't mean you weren't caught in the cross-fire. It's confusing, isn't it? What seems like it would be productive actually backfires. That keeping your distance can be a good thing when it feels like you should move closer."
Grissom eyed the psychologist warily before letting out a resigned sigh. "I want to help. I do. But I need to know what to do. I'm not good at this type of thing."
Kane smiled and pulled out a ledger. "I do have an appointment coming up, Gil, so we're going to have to end this. Are you free on Wednesday, around 10 a.m.? I have some free time then. I'll pencil you in for an hour. Just in case you have some more questions."
He nodded reluctantly as he left the room. Pausing at the door, he turned to Kane. "Philip, tell her, well, tell her I'm still willing to help. She just has to ask."
"That's good to know, Gil. I'll pass it along."