The Patient

“Brian Tracy,” he heard himself mutter under his breath. His words were still slurred. His blurry vision clearing up slowly to reveal forms and figures in the dimly lit room before him. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin. His head ached. His body ached. His stomach churned and it felt like he could hurl his guts out at any second while his head spinned frantically. He took a deep breath, held it in for a moment, and then breathed it out on a heavy sigh for several seconds before repeating the exercise again. 

Gradually, he regained some control of his senses and could muster the strength to open his eyes again, this time revealing a row of windows to his right, and a desk before him, against which a man was leaning with his arms crossed. His gaze was steady, but his smile was unnerving. Almost as if he was never meant to form his lips in the shape of a cupid’s bow, and the mere effort exerted towards doing so was an act against nature itself thus contorting his features into a horrid yellow toothed grimace, which was sure to make even the most docile of babies cry at the sight of it.

“Ah,” he said. “I see a little less cloud and a little more man in those eyes of yours now. Will you kindly state your name for the record again?”

“Who are you?” Brian managed to croak out, his tongue sticking to the roof of his dry mouth.

“I am Dr Everett Saunders, Brian. And you and I have come a long way together. Oh yes, long indeed…” He pushed off from the desk and walked round to his chair.

Brian could make out a plaque on his desk and several honorary certificates on the wall to his left, but no words just yet. He blinked several times while Dr Saunders continued speaking.

“Years to be exact. I assure you that by now we could have called one another “good friends” had our circumstances not been quite so extraordinary.”

“Extraordinary?” Brian wondered aloud, while trying to sit forward. Something held him back and as he looked down at his chest he found himself bound in a cross jacket and strapped to a wheelchair. ”Wait…Where AM I?!” he queried, his voice now sharp with concern.

“Everything will be clear in a moment Brian. Now, if you’ll simply remain calm,” he paused mid-sentence while fiddling with a piece of paper and a frame, probably another addition to the already crowded wall of certificates. “I will pay you my full attentions in just a few minutes.”

Now done with his task, he placed the frame on the wall as Brian had expected. He could make out the place where it had previously been due to the discolouration of the wall in the exact shape of the frame. Why would the Dr need to take it down? Surely he had someone to do the cleaning? But then the wall wasn’t clean. Then perhaps to add a new accreditation in the place of a less liked one. But the wall was already so full, which indicated that he didn’t mind the clutter to begin with. So why? And furthermore, why was this so important to Brian of a sudden. He could care less what someone else chose to do with their office décor. Were it up to him, he’d just put up a new frame till the entire wall was covered with certificates if it came to that.

“Wait,” he said softly, a strange uneasiness grabbing hold of his belly as a frightening thought crept into his mind.

“Exactly Brian,” said Dr Saunders. “Wait just a moment, and everything will make perfect sense.”

He looked at the desk, now focusing on the plaque. ”Now tell me how you are feeling today Brian,” said the Dr, now moving into place in front of the desk, hiding the plaque from sight. “We always want to talk about our feelings, now don’t we Brian?” He smiled again, and this time Brian could sense that something was most definitely not right with the gesture.

The wall, he now noticed, had several missing frames. All of whom were placed neatly one atop the other to the left of the desk. A thought started to form in his mind, and he brushed it aside by shaking his head vigorously.

“Am I ill?” he asked tentatively. Yes, that must be it he thought. I am not well.

“Ill? ILL?!” Dr Saunders exclaimed. “No. You’re not ill.” He knelt down before him resting his hands on Brian’s knees.

“You’re not ill at all.” He rose and turned to the desk again, reaching out to several sheets of paper like the one he’d framed earlier. Taking them in his right hand, he turned to Brian and placed the pages in his lap along with the plaque. Leaning in to look into his eyes, his face too close for comfort.

“You see…You’re cured Brian. I cured you,” he said. Looking every bit as pleased as a cat that’d caught a fish.

“Our time is up for today dear Brian. Let’s continue this little chat tomorrow, shall we?” Dr Saunders walked to the door and called for someone to take Brian back to his room.

This was all so confusing. What was going on? Where is this place? Why am I here? Is there anyone who could tell me something useful?

His gaze dropped down to the pages in his lap. He blinked. And then blinked again. What was this? What did it mean? He could feel his body start to tremble. The muscles in his face went lax and he suddenly forgot the skill necessary for speech.

“Ah Tess. Thank goodness YOU came and not that aweful new girl Maggie. I think she’ll be a bit of a problem for us.” He heard Dr Saunders say behind him.

“Would you like me to take Mr Tracy to his room right away then Ben?” Tess said in a cheerful young girl’s voice, not more than 19. Brian knew her voice well. He’d often dreamed of her. Or rather, he’d dreamed of possessing her red haired innocence for himself one day.

“Yes. Take him away. I’ll have a go at him tomorrow. Today I’d like to finish up here,” he gestured at the room with emphasis on the wall.”…and do some research.”

“Very well Ben. Do be having a good day then” She said merrily as she wheeled Brian to the door.

“Oh and Tess dear,” he said as if in afterthought. “It’s Dr Saunders now. Please do try to remember that from now on.”

“Thanks for reminding me. Dr Saunders. Do have a good morning then.”

“And a good morning to you too Tess…and to you…Brian,” he said with an even broader smile.

Brian said nothing. He felt nothing, unless numbness were a feeling. And of that he had plenty. Back in his room he stared blankly at the wall before him. Tess had left him still fully strapped up in his wheelchair before leaving and locking the door behind her. He thought  the circus of doctors and patients they’d passed on the way to his room and a smile came to his face. At first just lifting the corners of his mouth, but steadily increasing until he burst out laughing hysterically. He laughed until his sides hurt and tears welled up and spilled forth from his eyes. He laughed until he was writhing in his bonds like one beset with epileptic seizures, and then he laughed some more. This bout of uncontrollable mirth soon waned, and left him weeping in a greater state of agony than he could recall ever having been in.

He sighed a burdened sigh when it was ended, a hopeless sigh, utterly exhausted, and looked back down at the pages still nestled safely in his lap where Dr Saunders had placed them.

“…The regents of the

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA

ON THE TOWN NOMINATION OF THE GRADUATE COUNCIL

OF THE ABC DIVISION, HAVE CONFERRED UPON

BRIAN TRACY

Who demonstrated ability through original research in PSYCHOLOGY

THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

WITH ALL THE RIGHTS AND PRIVELEGES THERETO PERTAINED…”