A/N: Hello, everyone. OMG...I screwed up. I must apologize. I got my chapters mixed up. I have made the changes and Ch. 15, Discussions, is now in its proper place. If you haven't already caught on, please go back and read Ch. 15 (new material) and then reread Ch. 16. I had not edited Ch. 16, yet. I made some changes so it should flow a lot better now. Thanks for understanding. I suck at technology. It's pathetic...really! This is what happens when you get old.
Chapter 16: Major Confusion
Dr. Beckett was more that a little apprehensive about inducing consciousness in Major Sheppard. He was concerned with potentially triggering another fatal episode. There was no discernible pattern to the occurrences and this gave the Doctor little comfort at the moment.
It was a risk he needed to take since the Major had not yet awakened on his own accord. He had a nurse and a technician on hand to assist him if any unforeseen surprises did crop up. Once they were all ready, Dr. Beckett placed a hand on the Major's shoulder and gave it a gentle shake while he firmly called out his name. "Major Sheppard. Wake up."
There was no immediate response. The Doctor gave the Major's shoulder another shake and continued to cajole him to wake up. After a few more moments, the Major showed some reaction moving his head from side to side. His breathing quickened and he slowly opened his eyes blinking a few times against the dry crystallized sleep in his eyes.
The Major shifted his eyes taking in his surroundings and tried in vain to recognize the faces now peering expectantly down at him. He recognized one of the faces but he wasn't too sure about the other two, one of which was smiling sweetly at him.
He addressed the face he was sure about. "Doc, is that you," he managed weakly. His throat was dry form disuse.
"Yes, Major, it's me," Dr. Beckett replied soothingly. The Doctor, noting what a difficult time the Major was having speaking, had the technician hand him a glass of water with a straw and offered it to the Major helping him negotiate a sip.
"Here, Major. Have some water. It will help you."
The Major was grateful for the liquid not exactly remembering when the last time it was he had last had a drink. The Major took some small sips through the straw at Dr. Beckett's suggestion but went into a fit of coughing despite his caution. The Doctor put the water aside and placed a calming hand on the Major's chest. "Easy now, take it easy Major."
Unfortunately, the spasms made the Major realize how much pain he was in and he groaned in response. "Are you in pain, Major?" The Doctor suspected he was but asked anyway.
The Major nodded in the affirmative. Finding his voice he said, "My chest...it hurts."
Just as the Doctor thought since the Major did have a bad encounter with a defibrillator. The Doctor reached up to the lever on the IV drip that would release pain easing medication. "There you go Major. The pain should subside in a few moments."
The Doctor now satisfied that the Major was not going to be triggered into another episode, dismissed the nurse and technician so that they could attend to their other duties. Dr. Beckett also felt some private time with the Major was in order in case he wanted to share his feelings.
Major Sheppard made an effort to remember where he was and how he got there. Confused, he finally asked, "Where am I?"
Doctor Beckett having anticipated that the Major might be confused, sat down on a stool he had brought with him, settling in to answer any questions his patient might have. "You're in the infirmary, Major."
"The infirmary?" John asked wrinkling his forehead.
"Yes...the infirmary. On Atlantis," the Doctor added in hopes the mention of the city would spark the Major's memory. This might turn out to be a long evening. "Do you remember anything prior to waking up?"
Major Sheppard shook his head 'no' and knitted his eyebrow still confused. "I can't remember anything." The Major said looking distressed.
Dr. Beckett didn't want to press John too hard. "That's alright, John. Take your time."
The Major's expression changed to that of realization. His eyes widened in sudden awareness of a memory. "Elizabeth...where's Elizabeth?" he asked the Doctor with deep concern in his voice.
"She's fine, John," Dr. Beckett soothed hoping to bloody hell that the Major didn't go into another episode.
"Did you find her? Did you get her back?" Agitated, the Major struggled to sit up.
The Doctor placed gentle hands on the Major's shoulders against his efforts and reiterated that Dr. Weir was alright. "Major, Dr. Weir's fine. She's here on Atlantis."
"No...no, they were hurting her," the Major insisted.
"No one was hurting her, John. She's been here on Atlantis all along. I can assure you, no one has hurt her."
"But I saw them..." the Major insisted, "I...I, saw them torture her." His voice was a combination of sorrow, helplessness, and regret.
"That was just a dream, John," the Doctor replied trying his best to be convincing.
"No...no dream. It was real. I was there. I saw it happen." The Major shook his head from side to side unconvinced. He was struggling to leap out of his hospital bed. Doctor Beckett had to hold him down at the shoulders. The Major was still fairly strong even in his weakened condition but the Doctor prevailed.
The Major relaxed back into the pillows defeated against the Doctors grasp mumbling, "...not a dream. It was real." He raised the butt of his hands to his face covering both of his eyes in an attempt to hold back tears of frustration.
Dr. Beckett felt sorry for his friend. He determined that the Major was probably disassociating from reality, confused about the weeks past events.
"John, listen to me." He took the Major's wrist in his hands and pulled them away from his eyes. "It's alright, you're safe now. Elizabeth is safe and unharmed. Neither of you were ever in any danger."
The Major, whose eyes had been shut tightly, opened them and looked at Dr. Beckett with clarity in his eyes, seeming to come to his senses. The Doctor released his grip on the Major's wrists when he noticed his patient's lucidity.
"Doc," he asked still a little confused. "What just happened?"
It had occurred to the Doctor just at that moment that in all of the mayhem over the past week, no one had bothered to explain what was happening to the Major or to bother to ask him if he understood what he was going through.
"First of all Major, I want you to know that you are safe in the infirmary. Second of all, understand that Dr. Weir is fine. You just had a very bad nightmare. Now, you had a bad encounter with a race of people called the Xenotites about a week ago and were badly injured. That's why you are in the infirmary now. Do you remember that?"
John nodded his head 'yes' and swallowing hard, turned his head away from the Doctor as the memories came flooding back. He was not particularly proud of that mission.
Dr. Beckett continued with his explanation reminding John of his operation, his first bad dream, and Dr. Weir's visits. He talked about this last dream, how it caused the Major to crash, and having nearly lost him for a second time.
At hearing this account, the Major looked at the Doctor with a pained expression on his face, now understanding why his chest had hurt so much when he came to. The Doctor recounted every detail figuring it would be best to be completely honest with the Major especially after what he had learned in his research. The Major soaked in all of this information in silence.
Once Dr. Beckett finished updating the Major, he asked, "Do you understand what's happening to you, lad?" Dr. Beckett's bedside manner was at its best. The Doctor felt it was time to have a candid talk with the Major concerning his mental state and what he was suffering from.
The Major indicated his lack of understanding by shaking his head 'no." He had that wounded puppy dog look on his face.
The Doctor continued with his analysis. "You are suffering from post-traumatic stress. It's common among military personnel that have been through traumatic experiences. Do you know what this condition entails?"
John shook his head 'yes' in understanding. He knew exactly what the Doctor was talking about. Several of his buddies who he had served with in Dessert Storm in the early nineties had suffered from it. Many of his colleagues had been medically discharged because of their inability to cope in a battlefield situation. It hadn't occurred to the Major that he was now afflicted with the very same thing.
Dr. Beckett continued. "This condition can last the rest of your life or it can remit spontaneously on its own leading to a full recovery. It depends on the extent of your traumatic experiences and your ability to cope with them. The stronger you get physically, the better you'll be able to shake off the post-traumatic stress. Are you with me so far?"
The Major shook his head 'yes' and to the Doctors relief, seemed to be much more alert and interested.
Encouraged, the Doctor continued. "Now the dreams you have been having are a result of your brain being triggered by the trauma. Dreams can seem very real. This has to do with memory which can be a tricky thing. From what we have learned so far about how cognition works, memories formed from dreams and memories formed from real experiences, are stored in the same area of the brain. There is a fine line between reality and dreams and the subconscious mind sometimes can't tell the difference between the two. There is so much we still don't understand about synaptic pathways and how they relate to the formation of memories. It's really quite fascinating. Are you still with me, lad?"
Another affirmative nod from the Major. The Doctor, now in his element continued animatedly. "So, when the nightmares are happening combined with a high level of emotional arousal, the intensity tends to overload the subconscious mind making the dream feel like reality. When a person with post-traumatic stress is highly stimulated by a nightmare or a bad memory, the subconscious mind sometimes overrides the conscious mind causing the victim to be triggered into what is known as an episode. In some instances, victims have been known to have moments of disassociation where the subconscious mind is in total command and have lost complete touch with reality."
The Doctor paused to allow the Major to digest this information. He could tell that the Major was processing and contemplating his explanation.
"Are you still with me, Major?"
"So....basically, I'm screwed," the Major surmised.
Dr. Beckett smiled at the Major's self-assessment of his condition. "Not necessarily, Major. There are ways that we can help you to recover quickly from this condition. There is no need to be concerned. In fact, its time we got you back on your feet. You have been cooped up in this bed for far too long. I would like to get you started you on some liquids and eventually some semi-solid foods. We also need to get your legs moving again. We'll start slow and small with some physical therapy exercises. Plus, I need to get you weaned off the pain medication before I get you addicted to it. I won't sugar coat it, Major. The physical and emotional healing process will take a few weeks so don't expect to walk out of here tomorrow."
The Major, once again, shook his head 'yes' having a clearer understanding of what he was up against.
"Okay Major, its time for you to rest. I'm afraid I have probably taxed you more than I should have this afternoon. Do you have any questions?"
"Doc, can I see Elizabeth?"
"You need your rest, John," the Doctor insisted.
"Just for a little while...I need to know that she's really okay."
Not seeing the harm in it and figuring it would help John in the long run, the Doctor agreed, "Alright, but just for a little while. Are you certain you're up to it?"
"Please...I really need to see her."
Dr. Beckett nodded his agreement. "I'll let her know you're awake."
"Thanks, Doc." The Major looked at him with appreciative eyes. He was glad for Dr. Beckett's honesty and for allowing him to visit with Elizabeth.
"Let me or the staff know if you need anything."
The Doctor went back to his office to comm Dr. Weir to let her know of the Major's request and what he found in his research. He was happy that the Major was somewhat accepting of his situation. Maybe now that the Major understood his condition, he would be more willing to accept the help of his teammates.
A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. You are all way too kind. I also appreciate all your condolences and kind words.