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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 46
By jojarod50 8-14-`03
(See previous parts for disclaimers.)
D.O.E. Safe house
Dinning room
1:55 PM
"Hospital? What do you mean, Jarod?" Andrea asked in alarm.
"I'm sorry. The way everyone was looking at me the moment I
entered the room, I assumed that you already knew," he apologized,
raking his trembling fingers through his hair in frustration,
appalled that he would make such an erroneous assumption.
"Son, no one has been ease-dropping on you. We all have your
best interest in mind. Why are you being hospitalized? Is it about
the nightmares?" his father asked, knowing from what Sydney had
explained the night before, that he was having serious emotional
problems again.
"More or less. As you probably know, I haven't been sleeping very,"
he said passing the mashed potatoes to his wife nonchalantly, trying
to minimize the significance of his removal from the safe house.
"Sydney and I agreed that it would be in my best interest if I were
hospitalized for a brief period of time, until this problem could be
properly addressed," he said smoothly, glancing around the table,
avoiding everyone's eyes.
"He's going to give me a call after the arrangements have been made."
Andrea remained silent, biting back tears, as his father spoke again.
"Son, we're behind you a hundred percent. You've been through
so much lately. I'm glad you're going to get the help you need. No
sense letting things get out of control," he said noticing his son's
eyes widened for a moment, as if he had said something that struck a
raw nerve.
"Please don't stop having dinner on account of me," Jarod
urged glancing around the table, noticing that none of the food was
being passed and Andrea had just left the room.
"Excuse me for a moment," Jarod said apologetically, placing his
napkin on the table and following after his wife, realizing that she
was not handling his impending hospitalization very
well. *
D.O.E. Safe house
Jarod and Andrea's temporary bedroom
"Andrea, I want to talk to you," Jarod said in a gentle voice,
standing just out side their temporary bedroom, knowing how
vulnerable she felt.
"Please, just leave me alone for a little bit," she said, unable to
hide the fact that she was crying.
"I want to be with you."
"I don't want this to be happening to you, Jarod" Andrea confessed,
slowly opening the door and letting her husband in.
"I don't want this to be happening to me either," Jarod said with a
waine smile. "I'm sorry, Andi, I should have discussed this with you
privately before telling the rest of the family. The lack of sleep
seems to be hampering my judgement somewhat," he confessed, averting
his dark eyes away from hers, unable to tell her anymore.
"Please, don't be angry with me," he said softly.
"Angry?" Andrea breathed, heartbroken at how vulnerable he looked. "I
can't believe how callous and insensitive I've been toward you. To be
honest, I've been terrified that you might become psychotic again and
never come back to me. You sure married a selfish bitch."
"Don't you dare say that. You're my wife and our child's mother. This
is a very difficult period in our lives. I won't have you demeaning
yourself that way," Jarod said tenderly, pulling her near to him,
fighting to stay in the here and now. The cruelty of his illness
reared its ugly head again as he suddenly relived passing his bloody
gun to his terrified wife moments before he had passed out.
"You're shaking, Jarod."
"Oh, it's probably just low blood sugar," he fabricated, not wanting
to give her anything else to worry about. "I'll have something to eat
in a little bit."
*
"Jarod, Sydney is on the line," Major Charles said, tapping lightly
on the door.
"Um, thanks Dad," Jarod said as he opened the door, giving his wife
an apologetic look.
"All right, Sydney, I'll have one of the agents bring me over in a
little bit," he said evenly, feeling very frightened that he was
continuing to lose ground, despite his best efforts.
"I'm sorry, honey, looks like its time to go," he said, picking up
his overnight bag and kissing her goodbye.
"Jarod, I love you," was all Andrea could say, fighting back tears as
Jarod nodded good-by and descended the stairs.
"I've been designated to give you a lift to the hospital," the older
agent explained, knowing it could have easily been anyone of them
having a breakdown, had the circumstances been reversed.
"Thank you, Agent…Woodworth," Jarod said cordially, glancing at his
badge, knowing that he had nothing to do with his suddenly being
railroaded into being hospitalized.
*
St. Francis hospital
Downtown Yellow bird Island
3:00 p.m.
After failing to sign any of the admission forms legibly,
Jarod was escorted to the elevator by his former mentor and the agent
who had brought him in, for a brief ride to the fifth floor.
Forcing himself to be compliant, Jarod allowed Sydney to
direct him to the sterile room he'd been assigned to, nodding to the
guard posted at the door, attempting to appear more together than he
actually was.
The pretender bit back his distressing feelings of de'-ja`-
vu, as he tossed his overnight bag on the twin bed, and began
dutifully unpacking it, wondering what, if anything, he could have
done differently, to avoid having this happening again.
"Jarod, you haven't spoken a word since your arrival here.
How are you feeling?" his psychiatrist asked, as the pretender opened
a drawer and starting putting his clothes away.
"This looks vaguely like my upstairs room at the Centre, don't you
agree?" he commented blandly, immediately falling silent again.
"This is nothing like the Centre and you know that. You're
going to receive the help you need here, to get back on your feet
again."
"What's the game plan?" Jarod asked after a prolonged silence,
dropping the last of his socks in the drawer, glaring angrily at his
former mentor conveying a convincing front, his eyes unfortunately
betraying his intense fear. "You do have some sort of plan of action,
don't you, Sydney? After all, you ripped me away from my family
causing them to be worried sick about me," Jarod spit caustically,
unable to come to terms with being coerced into being hospitalized,
under threat of being committed if he didn't comply.
"Yes I do, Jarod," Sydney said, letting out a frustrated
sigh, knowing that Jarod was desperately trying to avoid facing the
fact that he was having emotional problems again.
"I want you to meet Dr. Jacob Forums," he said as the attending
psychiatrist, as if on cue, entered the room.
"Hello, Jarod, the portly psychiatrist said, extending his
hand to the nervous young man standing before him, immediately
noticing that he had a bad case of the shakes.
"Why don't you have a seat?" he said warmly, finding it
curious that the other man, declined the invitation, and continued to
unpack.
"For the past twenty-six years, I've worked closely with the
FBI, serving agents who have undergone events similar to yours, he
said, reviewing his chart. I believe I can help you, if you're
willing to give me a chance," the charismatic older black man
offered, continuing to evaluate his obviously reluctant patient.
"All right. What do you want from me?" Jarod finally
acquiesced, siting down on his bed, feeling pointedly unready to
share what he was going through.
"It says on your chart, that five days ago, you were shot and
severely injured at your home by a double agent, whom you shared an
office with down town," he said, noticing that his new patient was
rocking himself slightly, while holding on tightly to the hem of his
shirt.
"And that, subsequently, you had a terrifying interaction with your…
clone, who lost his life in a gun battle in Germany two days ago."
"Do you feel willing to talk to me about this for a little bit?"
"Jarod remained silent, closing his eyes tightly, trying to
block out the memories of what had happened to his clone, only to be
assaulted by a horrific flashback of Hans being shot to death."
"Jarod, can you tell me what you are going through," the
psychiatrist encouraged, glancing over at Dr. Green, as their patient
suddenly stood up, weaving slightly.
"I can't do this right now," he said, breaking into a cold sweat,
making his way to the bathroom with an uneven gate, and quickly
shutting the door.
"He's extremely unstable, isn't he?"
"I'm afraid so."
Moments later…
The bathroom door swung open and Jarod reentered the room, drained of
all coloring, having just lost the scanty contents of his stomach.
"Could I have some privacy? I need to lie down," Jarod
confessed uncomfortably, sinking down on his bed, feeling unbearably
weak.
"Of course, Jarod," Dr. Forums said sympathetically, rising
from his chair.
"I'm going to prescribe an antiemetic to help settle your
stomach," he said, scribbling on his chart. "Lab will be up in a
little bit to draw some blood. Have you had your dressing changed
today?"
"Not yet."
"I'll have one of my nurses see to that in a little bit.
Let's see. You were shot five days ago; I imagine that still really
smarts. Have you had any of your pain medication today?"
"No."
"We'll have that and your antiemetic brought to you in a
little bit.
"Meanwhile, I want you to rest. Try to sip some water if you can. I'd
rather not have you on an I.V. unless it's absolutely necessary. I'll
be back to check on you in about an hour or so," he said, giving him
a reassuring smile before leaving the room.
"Jarod, would you like for me to stay with you a while
longer."
"That won't be necessary," Jarod mumbled, feeling deeply
depressed, as he stretched out on the bed, turning his back on his
mentor.
"As you wish. I'll be back this evening to touch base with
you," Sydney reassured him, leaving the room and quickly catching up
with Dr. Forums who was heading for the elevator.
Room 142
Ground level
3:25 P.M.
"Sydney, please have a seat."
"Thank you Dr. Forums."
"Just call me Jacob."
"That is my brother's name," he said breaking into a genuine
smile. "I really appreciate your help with Jarod. He is very special
to me."
"His medical records are quite extensive. I've only had time
to skim them. It looks like he's been through more traumatic episodes
than any patient I've ever encountered. It's hard to believe he isn't
a permanent resident at a state hospital by now."
"Jarod is a very resilient individual, though he's been
completely overwhelmed by this latest setback and is having a
difficult time admitting it to himself. I suspect his anger toward me
helps him avoid facing the fact that he's ill."
"That's quite understandable, considering all he had been
through. I don't think I would have the intestinal fortitude to keep
fighting the way he's going to have to."
"Is this a complete list of the medications Jarod is currently on?"
"Yes, though I don't believe he's taken any of them
consistently, and probably none of them today. Frankly, I was hoping
we could find a more effective treatment for him any way, with the
exception of the Percocet and the antidepressant I started him on
today, which he has responded to favorably to in the past."
"That shouldn't be a problem. Why don't we try him on some
Xanax this afternoon? That will be quite useful in stabilizing his
acute anxiety. To be honest with you, I'm concerned about his
physical condition, as well. He appears to be quite anemic and
dehydrated to me. Lab will be able to verify that."
"Jarod's ability to care for himself has diminished markedly
since the death of his clone. From what I've been able to ascertain,
he hasn't had anything appreciable to eat or drink in the past two
days. As I mentioned before, that is one of the reasons I felt he
needed to be in a controlled environment for now."
"Frankly, I'm still having a difficult time, adjusting to the
fact that your patient has been cloned twice. I've always believed
that to be a medical impossibility with humans."
"It has been an extremely difficult adjustment for Jarod as
well. Especially this latest revelation about his second clone, Hans."
"How has his support system been? Has his family been any
help?"
"No. He's been carefully hiding his decline from his entire
family. It's though he's drowning but is too afraid to ask for help.
Incidentally, he inferred to his wife he was being hospitalized for a
simple case of insomnia, further evidence of his unwillingness to let
anyone know how badly he is struggling."
"That's ashamed. He's been cutting himself off from the very people
who could give him his much-needed emotional support. Does he realize
that talking about what he has been through at length, is really the
only way he is going to be able to pull out of this?"
"I'm certain he does, though I'm not sure he feels that is a viable
option right now. I don't know what actually happened between Jarod
and his clone, but what ever it was, was apparently unspeakably
damaging to him."
"I sure don't envy your patient for what he is going through. The
hell of it is, what he has experienced is sufficiently overwhelming
to drive most people over the edge, without repeatedly re-
experiencing the trauma without warning every waking moment."
"He'll probably need to be heavily medicated for a while, until he
begins eating and sleeping normally again."
"He's very sensitive to being manipulated. Are you aware that
he is a genius? His I.Q. is completely off the scale."
"I understand that, though I believe that if it's explained
to him up front that he'll hopefully be willing to cooperate."
"Could you give me a brief summary of Jarod's emotional
difficulties over the course of the past few days. I want to
understand what he's been going through."
"Certainly."
St. Fransais Hospital
Room 502
4:20 p.m.
"Jarod?" Dr. Forums questioned entering the room, finding it
disheartening that his new patient was pacing the floor.
"You seem to be rather agitated. Why don't we sit down and discuss
what you're going through," his new doctor encouraged, motioning to
the chairs by the window, after a moment realizing that his patient
wasn't following along.
"Jarod?"
Jarod turned toward the voice of his new doctor, with a dazed
look on his face, his shirt obviously becoming damp, fighting to slow
his rapid breathing.
"I feel as though the walls are closing in on me," he managed, raking
his trembling fingers though his sweaty hair, resuming his pacing
only to find he was experiencing another disturbing flashback.
Dr. Forums flipped open his chart and skimmed it briefly,
before forcibly hitting the call button on the wall, in frustration.
"Gracie, why hasn't Jarod Charles been given his medications?
This is totally unacceptable. I ordered them over an hour ago."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Forums, there must have been some kind of mix-
up. Our computers are down and everything is in disarray down here.
I'll have them to you in a couple of minutes."
"Let's change that to 35cc.of Valium for right now," he said,
glancing at Jarod, realizing he needed to be calmed down immediately.
Bring along the other medications as per orders," he said reigning in
his anger at the ineptitude of his staff.
"Jarod it will only be a few minutes before you medication
arrives. Why don't you take a seat by the window, where you can view
the city? Maybe that change of pace will help you calm down," he
said, steering him over to one of the over-stuffed chair across the
room.
Five minutes later…
"I apologize for the delay in getting your medication to you. I
promise you that won't happen again," he said gently, wiping his arm
with an alcohol wipe, before delivering the shot.
"There you go," he said with satisfaction, as his patient markedly
relaxed.
"You realize, don't you, that you are going to have to start
confiding in me as to what you're going through, otherwise, I can't
help you."
"I know," Jarod managed despondently, running his hand over his
face. "I really didn't think this would happen to me again. Ever."
"What would happen again, Jarod?"
Jarod looked at the floor for several minutes, trying to compose
himself before speaking again.
"I feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown," he confessed, closing
his eyes in defeat. "The flashbacks are so horrendous and the
nightmares…" he started slowly, wrapping his arms tightly around his
waist unable to say anything else.
"Jarod, I know things are very difficult for you right now, but you
must realize that with the right medications and cognitive
intervention, you will be able to overcome this hurdle, and regain
your life again."
"I don't think I'm going to make it through this this time," he
confessed beginning to rock slightly.
"Yes you will, Jarod. Things only seem impossible to you right now,
because your perception of what's going on is very distorted. That's
why you're going to need help navigating out of this," his doctor
explained, knowing his patient was very frightened and deeply
depressed.
"Here, Jarod, this medication will help settle your stomach the other
one is your pain pill," he explained passing him the tiny paper cup
and pouring him a glass of water.
"That's it. Now why don't you lie down and we'll talk a little more,
if you feel up to it," he said glancing at his watch. Your dinner
won't be here for about a half and hour.
St. Fransais Hospital
Yellow Bird Island
7:05 P.M.
"Jarod, it's Sydney, how are you doing?" he asked gently, as
he entered the room, taking in his I.V. and dimmed lights.
"Oh….hi…Sydney."
"You sound tired," he said taking a seat beside his bed,
quickly skimming over his chart noticing that he had had a very
difficult afternoon.
"I'm glad to see you're resting. Have you had any dinner?" he asked,
concerned that his dietary chart read only 10% for his meal and a
mere 90cc.in fluids.
"Dinner? Oh, let's just say…I tried," he said, purposely
skipping over the details. "I'm worried about…Andi. I would like…to
give…her a call."
"She's just fine, Jarod. I dropped by the house right after I
left here, and she was relieved that you are getting the care you
need."
"You're lying. She didn't…take things…well at all. I hope you
didn't…overwhelm her with…gross exaggerations…about…my declining
mental…health," he warned, his words dripping with anger and fear.
"I would never do that, Jarod. She needs counseling about
what you both are going through as much as you do," he said hating
his look of vulnerability as he listened carefully to what he was
saying.
"Your electrolytes are off. You're going to need to push fluids and,
for that matter, food even though you may not feel like eating
anything," he said passing him some water. Your orders are to remain
on an I.V. overnight, unless you continue to fail to keep yourself
hydrated."
"Details like that have been difficult to keep track of lately, " he
admitted feeling suddenly embarrassed.
"That's perfectly understandable. Jarod you mustn't fight your
treatment. Trust your doctor. He has extensive experience in cases
like yours. I'll be working closely with him to help you get through
this."
"Cases…like mine. I never thought…I'd hear you say that…to me again,"
he said bitterly, looking away.
"Jarod, I know you're having trouble coming to terms with
your illness.
Nevertheless, you're going to get through this, I promise you.
Neither of us are going to push you into talking about what you've
been through before you're ready," he assured him, noticing a stray
tear running down his cheek.
"I can't even…look at my face in the mirror…anymore, without
having…a flashback about…"he broke off, unable to say any more.
"The cognitive approach will help you break the link between
that stimuli and your acute anxiety and flashbacks. We'll be working
with the visual cues you need to be desensitized from," he explained
realizing too late that he had probably just insulted Jarod's
intelligence by talking down to him.
"You have my deepest apology, Jarod. I'm perfectly aware that you
know all about this. My intention was not causing you any more
distress."
"I know that, Sydney," he said, running his trembling fingers
though his hair. "It was probably…beneficial to review your approach…
with me. I'm having… a very difficult time …thinking clearly…right
now."
"I'm very much aware of that, Jarod. I'm relieved that you're
finally willing to admit that. I was very worried about your
continuing insistence that everything was all right when quite
obviously it wasn't."
"I really believed…I'd regain control of my mind given a
little more time," he said, becoming deeply despondent, "but that
just hasn't been…possible," he confessed becoming quiet again.
"Jarod, this just isn't the sort of thing one can do on his own. You
must not thing less of yourself. You doctor left a standing order for
a sedative for you at bedtime, if you have difficulty sleeping. I
would strongly advise you to take one tonight."
"He already explained that to me," he said, uncomfortably,
arranging the fringe on his bedspread in a neat row, just as he had
at the second psychiatric hospital he had stayed at. "I'm really
tired, Sydney. I've been heavily medicated since supper. I
don't…feel like…talking…any more."
"Certainly, Jarod. I'll be back first thing in the morning to
visit with you," he said, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder
before leaving the room.
Turing on his side away from the dim lights, Jarod finally
broke down and cried.
Sydney pause outside his door, listening to him vent his
feelings, hating that he hadn't been unable to protect him from being
used beyond his capacity, so soon after his impressive victory over
his devastating mental breakdown.
TBC…Please tell me what you think…. Big smiles jojarod@... or
jemac@...
Time for something positive to happen in Jarod's life – don't you
agree?
By jojarod50 8-14-`03
(See previous parts for disclaimers.)
D.O.E. Safe house
Dinning room
1:55 PM
"Hospital? What do you mean, Jarod?" Andrea asked in alarm.
"I'm sorry. The way everyone was looking at me the moment I
entered the room, I assumed that you already knew," he apologized,
raking his trembling fingers through his hair in frustration,
appalled that he would make such an erroneous assumption.
"Son, no one has been ease-dropping on you. We all have your
best interest in mind. Why are you being hospitalized? Is it about
the nightmares?" his father asked, knowing from what Sydney had
explained the night before, that he was having serious emotional
problems again.
"More or less. As you probably know, I haven't been sleeping very,"
he said passing the mashed potatoes to his wife nonchalantly, trying
to minimize the significance of his removal from the safe house.
"Sydney and I agreed that it would be in my best interest if I were
hospitalized for a brief period of time, until this problem could be
properly addressed," he said smoothly, glancing around the table,
avoiding everyone's eyes.
"He's going to give me a call after the arrangements have been made."
Andrea remained silent, biting back tears, as his father spoke again.
"Son, we're behind you a hundred percent. You've been through
so much lately. I'm glad you're going to get the help you need. No
sense letting things get out of control," he said noticing his son's
eyes widened for a moment, as if he had said something that struck a
raw nerve.
"Please don't stop having dinner on account of me," Jarod
urged glancing around the table, noticing that none of the food was
being passed and Andrea had just left the room.
"Excuse me for a moment," Jarod said apologetically, placing his
napkin on the table and following after his wife, realizing that she
was not handling his impending hospitalization very
well. *
D.O.E. Safe house
Jarod and Andrea's temporary bedroom
"Andrea, I want to talk to you," Jarod said in a gentle voice,
standing just out side their temporary bedroom, knowing how
vulnerable she felt.
"Please, just leave me alone for a little bit," she said, unable to
hide the fact that she was crying.
"I want to be with you."
"I don't want this to be happening to you, Jarod" Andrea confessed,
slowly opening the door and letting her husband in.
"I don't want this to be happening to me either," Jarod said with a
waine smile. "I'm sorry, Andi, I should have discussed this with you
privately before telling the rest of the family. The lack of sleep
seems to be hampering my judgement somewhat," he confessed, averting
his dark eyes away from hers, unable to tell her anymore.
"Please, don't be angry with me," he said softly.
"Angry?" Andrea breathed, heartbroken at how vulnerable he looked. "I
can't believe how callous and insensitive I've been toward you. To be
honest, I've been terrified that you might become psychotic again and
never come back to me. You sure married a selfish bitch."
"Don't you dare say that. You're my wife and our child's mother. This
is a very difficult period in our lives. I won't have you demeaning
yourself that way," Jarod said tenderly, pulling her near to him,
fighting to stay in the here and now. The cruelty of his illness
reared its ugly head again as he suddenly relived passing his bloody
gun to his terrified wife moments before he had passed out.
"You're shaking, Jarod."
"Oh, it's probably just low blood sugar," he fabricated, not wanting
to give her anything else to worry about. "I'll have something to eat
in a little bit."
*
"Jarod, Sydney is on the line," Major Charles said, tapping lightly
on the door.
"Um, thanks Dad," Jarod said as he opened the door, giving his wife
an apologetic look.
"All right, Sydney, I'll have one of the agents bring me over in a
little bit," he said evenly, feeling very frightened that he was
continuing to lose ground, despite his best efforts.
"I'm sorry, honey, looks like its time to go," he said, picking up
his overnight bag and kissing her goodbye.
"Jarod, I love you," was all Andrea could say, fighting back tears as
Jarod nodded good-by and descended the stairs.
"I've been designated to give you a lift to the hospital," the older
agent explained, knowing it could have easily been anyone of them
having a breakdown, had the circumstances been reversed.
"Thank you, Agent…Woodworth," Jarod said cordially, glancing at his
badge, knowing that he had nothing to do with his suddenly being
railroaded into being hospitalized.
*
St. Francis hospital
Downtown Yellow bird Island
3:00 p.m.
After failing to sign any of the admission forms legibly,
Jarod was escorted to the elevator by his former mentor and the agent
who had brought him in, for a brief ride to the fifth floor.
Forcing himself to be compliant, Jarod allowed Sydney to
direct him to the sterile room he'd been assigned to, nodding to the
guard posted at the door, attempting to appear more together than he
actually was.
The pretender bit back his distressing feelings of de'-ja`-
vu, as he tossed his overnight bag on the twin bed, and began
dutifully unpacking it, wondering what, if anything, he could have
done differently, to avoid having this happening again.
"Jarod, you haven't spoken a word since your arrival here.
How are you feeling?" his psychiatrist asked, as the pretender opened
a drawer and starting putting his clothes away.
"This looks vaguely like my upstairs room at the Centre, don't you
agree?" he commented blandly, immediately falling silent again.
"This is nothing like the Centre and you know that. You're
going to receive the help you need here, to get back on your feet
again."
"What's the game plan?" Jarod asked after a prolonged silence,
dropping the last of his socks in the drawer, glaring angrily at his
former mentor conveying a convincing front, his eyes unfortunately
betraying his intense fear. "You do have some sort of plan of action,
don't you, Sydney? After all, you ripped me away from my family
causing them to be worried sick about me," Jarod spit caustically,
unable to come to terms with being coerced into being hospitalized,
under threat of being committed if he didn't comply.
"Yes I do, Jarod," Sydney said, letting out a frustrated
sigh, knowing that Jarod was desperately trying to avoid facing the
fact that he was having emotional problems again.
"I want you to meet Dr. Jacob Forums," he said as the attending
psychiatrist, as if on cue, entered the room.
"Hello, Jarod, the portly psychiatrist said, extending his
hand to the nervous young man standing before him, immediately
noticing that he had a bad case of the shakes.
"Why don't you have a seat?" he said warmly, finding it
curious that the other man, declined the invitation, and continued to
unpack.
"For the past twenty-six years, I've worked closely with the
FBI, serving agents who have undergone events similar to yours, he
said, reviewing his chart. I believe I can help you, if you're
willing to give me a chance," the charismatic older black man
offered, continuing to evaluate his obviously reluctant patient.
"All right. What do you want from me?" Jarod finally
acquiesced, siting down on his bed, feeling pointedly unready to
share what he was going through.
"It says on your chart, that five days ago, you were shot and
severely injured at your home by a double agent, whom you shared an
office with down town," he said, noticing that his new patient was
rocking himself slightly, while holding on tightly to the hem of his
shirt.
"And that, subsequently, you had a terrifying interaction with your…
clone, who lost his life in a gun battle in Germany two days ago."
"Do you feel willing to talk to me about this for a little bit?"
"Jarod remained silent, closing his eyes tightly, trying to
block out the memories of what had happened to his clone, only to be
assaulted by a horrific flashback of Hans being shot to death."
"Jarod, can you tell me what you are going through," the
psychiatrist encouraged, glancing over at Dr. Green, as their patient
suddenly stood up, weaving slightly.
"I can't do this right now," he said, breaking into a cold sweat,
making his way to the bathroom with an uneven gate, and quickly
shutting the door.
"He's extremely unstable, isn't he?"
"I'm afraid so."
Moments later…
The bathroom door swung open and Jarod reentered the room, drained of
all coloring, having just lost the scanty contents of his stomach.
"Could I have some privacy? I need to lie down," Jarod
confessed uncomfortably, sinking down on his bed, feeling unbearably
weak.
"Of course, Jarod," Dr. Forums said sympathetically, rising
from his chair.
"I'm going to prescribe an antiemetic to help settle your
stomach," he said, scribbling on his chart. "Lab will be up in a
little bit to draw some blood. Have you had your dressing changed
today?"
"Not yet."
"I'll have one of my nurses see to that in a little bit.
Let's see. You were shot five days ago; I imagine that still really
smarts. Have you had any of your pain medication today?"
"No."
"We'll have that and your antiemetic brought to you in a
little bit.
"Meanwhile, I want you to rest. Try to sip some water if you can. I'd
rather not have you on an I.V. unless it's absolutely necessary. I'll
be back to check on you in about an hour or so," he said, giving him
a reassuring smile before leaving the room.
"Jarod, would you like for me to stay with you a while
longer."
"That won't be necessary," Jarod mumbled, feeling deeply
depressed, as he stretched out on the bed, turning his back on his
mentor.
"As you wish. I'll be back this evening to touch base with
you," Sydney reassured him, leaving the room and quickly catching up
with Dr. Forums who was heading for the elevator.
Room 142
Ground level
3:25 P.M.
"Sydney, please have a seat."
"Thank you Dr. Forums."
"Just call me Jacob."
"That is my brother's name," he said breaking into a genuine
smile. "I really appreciate your help with Jarod. He is very special
to me."
"His medical records are quite extensive. I've only had time
to skim them. It looks like he's been through more traumatic episodes
than any patient I've ever encountered. It's hard to believe he isn't
a permanent resident at a state hospital by now."
"Jarod is a very resilient individual, though he's been
completely overwhelmed by this latest setback and is having a
difficult time admitting it to himself. I suspect his anger toward me
helps him avoid facing the fact that he's ill."
"That's quite understandable, considering all he had been
through. I don't think I would have the intestinal fortitude to keep
fighting the way he's going to have to."
"Is this a complete list of the medications Jarod is currently on?"
"Yes, though I don't believe he's taken any of them
consistently, and probably none of them today. Frankly, I was hoping
we could find a more effective treatment for him any way, with the
exception of the Percocet and the antidepressant I started him on
today, which he has responded to favorably to in the past."
"That shouldn't be a problem. Why don't we try him on some
Xanax this afternoon? That will be quite useful in stabilizing his
acute anxiety. To be honest with you, I'm concerned about his
physical condition, as well. He appears to be quite anemic and
dehydrated to me. Lab will be able to verify that."
"Jarod's ability to care for himself has diminished markedly
since the death of his clone. From what I've been able to ascertain,
he hasn't had anything appreciable to eat or drink in the past two
days. As I mentioned before, that is one of the reasons I felt he
needed to be in a controlled environment for now."
"Frankly, I'm still having a difficult time, adjusting to the
fact that your patient has been cloned twice. I've always believed
that to be a medical impossibility with humans."
"It has been an extremely difficult adjustment for Jarod as
well. Especially this latest revelation about his second clone, Hans."
"How has his support system been? Has his family been any
help?"
"No. He's been carefully hiding his decline from his entire
family. It's though he's drowning but is too afraid to ask for help.
Incidentally, he inferred to his wife he was being hospitalized for a
simple case of insomnia, further evidence of his unwillingness to let
anyone know how badly he is struggling."
"That's ashamed. He's been cutting himself off from the very people
who could give him his much-needed emotional support. Does he realize
that talking about what he has been through at length, is really the
only way he is going to be able to pull out of this?"
"I'm certain he does, though I'm not sure he feels that is a viable
option right now. I don't know what actually happened between Jarod
and his clone, but what ever it was, was apparently unspeakably
damaging to him."
"I sure don't envy your patient for what he is going through. The
hell of it is, what he has experienced is sufficiently overwhelming
to drive most people over the edge, without repeatedly re-
experiencing the trauma without warning every waking moment."
"He'll probably need to be heavily medicated for a while, until he
begins eating and sleeping normally again."
"He's very sensitive to being manipulated. Are you aware that
he is a genius? His I.Q. is completely off the scale."
"I understand that, though I believe that if it's explained
to him up front that he'll hopefully be willing to cooperate."
"Could you give me a brief summary of Jarod's emotional
difficulties over the course of the past few days. I want to
understand what he's been going through."
"Certainly."
St. Fransais Hospital
Room 502
4:20 p.m.
"Jarod?" Dr. Forums questioned entering the room, finding it
disheartening that his new patient was pacing the floor.
"You seem to be rather agitated. Why don't we sit down and discuss
what you're going through," his new doctor encouraged, motioning to
the chairs by the window, after a moment realizing that his patient
wasn't following along.
"Jarod?"
Jarod turned toward the voice of his new doctor, with a dazed
look on his face, his shirt obviously becoming damp, fighting to slow
his rapid breathing.
"I feel as though the walls are closing in on me," he managed, raking
his trembling fingers though his sweaty hair, resuming his pacing
only to find he was experiencing another disturbing flashback.
Dr. Forums flipped open his chart and skimmed it briefly,
before forcibly hitting the call button on the wall, in frustration.
"Gracie, why hasn't Jarod Charles been given his medications?
This is totally unacceptable. I ordered them over an hour ago."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Forums, there must have been some kind of mix-
up. Our computers are down and everything is in disarray down here.
I'll have them to you in a couple of minutes."
"Let's change that to 35cc.of Valium for right now," he said,
glancing at Jarod, realizing he needed to be calmed down immediately.
Bring along the other medications as per orders," he said reigning in
his anger at the ineptitude of his staff.
"Jarod it will only be a few minutes before you medication
arrives. Why don't you take a seat by the window, where you can view
the city? Maybe that change of pace will help you calm down," he
said, steering him over to one of the over-stuffed chair across the
room.
Five minutes later…
"I apologize for the delay in getting your medication to you. I
promise you that won't happen again," he said gently, wiping his arm
with an alcohol wipe, before delivering the shot.
"There you go," he said with satisfaction, as his patient markedly
relaxed.
"You realize, don't you, that you are going to have to start
confiding in me as to what you're going through, otherwise, I can't
help you."
"I know," Jarod managed despondently, running his hand over his
face. "I really didn't think this would happen to me again. Ever."
"What would happen again, Jarod?"
Jarod looked at the floor for several minutes, trying to compose
himself before speaking again.
"I feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown," he confessed, closing
his eyes in defeat. "The flashbacks are so horrendous and the
nightmares…" he started slowly, wrapping his arms tightly around his
waist unable to say anything else.
"Jarod, I know things are very difficult for you right now, but you
must realize that with the right medications and cognitive
intervention, you will be able to overcome this hurdle, and regain
your life again."
"I don't think I'm going to make it through this this time," he
confessed beginning to rock slightly.
"Yes you will, Jarod. Things only seem impossible to you right now,
because your perception of what's going on is very distorted. That's
why you're going to need help navigating out of this," his doctor
explained, knowing his patient was very frightened and deeply
depressed.
"Here, Jarod, this medication will help settle your stomach the other
one is your pain pill," he explained passing him the tiny paper cup
and pouring him a glass of water.
"That's it. Now why don't you lie down and we'll talk a little more,
if you feel up to it," he said glancing at his watch. Your dinner
won't be here for about a half and hour.
St. Fransais Hospital
Yellow Bird Island
7:05 P.M.
"Jarod, it's Sydney, how are you doing?" he asked gently, as
he entered the room, taking in his I.V. and dimmed lights.
"Oh….hi…Sydney."
"You sound tired," he said taking a seat beside his bed,
quickly skimming over his chart noticing that he had had a very
difficult afternoon.
"I'm glad to see you're resting. Have you had any dinner?" he asked,
concerned that his dietary chart read only 10% for his meal and a
mere 90cc.in fluids.
"Dinner? Oh, let's just say…I tried," he said, purposely
skipping over the details. "I'm worried about…Andi. I would like…to
give…her a call."
"She's just fine, Jarod. I dropped by the house right after I
left here, and she was relieved that you are getting the care you
need."
"You're lying. She didn't…take things…well at all. I hope you
didn't…overwhelm her with…gross exaggerations…about…my declining
mental…health," he warned, his words dripping with anger and fear.
"I would never do that, Jarod. She needs counseling about
what you both are going through as much as you do," he said hating
his look of vulnerability as he listened carefully to what he was
saying.
"Your electrolytes are off. You're going to need to push fluids and,
for that matter, food even though you may not feel like eating
anything," he said passing him some water. Your orders are to remain
on an I.V. overnight, unless you continue to fail to keep yourself
hydrated."
"Details like that have been difficult to keep track of lately, " he
admitted feeling suddenly embarrassed.
"That's perfectly understandable. Jarod you mustn't fight your
treatment. Trust your doctor. He has extensive experience in cases
like yours. I'll be working closely with him to help you get through
this."
"Cases…like mine. I never thought…I'd hear you say that…to me again,"
he said bitterly, looking away.
"Jarod, I know you're having trouble coming to terms with
your illness.
Nevertheless, you're going to get through this, I promise you.
Neither of us are going to push you into talking about what you've
been through before you're ready," he assured him, noticing a stray
tear running down his cheek.
"I can't even…look at my face in the mirror…anymore, without
having…a flashback about…"he broke off, unable to say any more.
"The cognitive approach will help you break the link between
that stimuli and your acute anxiety and flashbacks. We'll be working
with the visual cues you need to be desensitized from," he explained
realizing too late that he had probably just insulted Jarod's
intelligence by talking down to him.
"You have my deepest apology, Jarod. I'm perfectly aware that you
know all about this. My intention was not causing you any more
distress."
"I know that, Sydney," he said, running his trembling fingers
though his hair. "It was probably…beneficial to review your approach…
with me. I'm having… a very difficult time …thinking clearly…right
now."
"I'm very much aware of that, Jarod. I'm relieved that you're
finally willing to admit that. I was very worried about your
continuing insistence that everything was all right when quite
obviously it wasn't."
"I really believed…I'd regain control of my mind given a
little more time," he said, becoming deeply despondent, "but that
just hasn't been…possible," he confessed becoming quiet again.
"Jarod, this just isn't the sort of thing one can do on his own. You
must not thing less of yourself. You doctor left a standing order for
a sedative for you at bedtime, if you have difficulty sleeping. I
would strongly advise you to take one tonight."
"He already explained that to me," he said, uncomfortably,
arranging the fringe on his bedspread in a neat row, just as he had
at the second psychiatric hospital he had stayed at. "I'm really
tired, Sydney. I've been heavily medicated since supper. I
don't…feel like…talking…any more."
"Certainly, Jarod. I'll be back first thing in the morning to
visit with you," he said, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder
before leaving the room.
Turing on his side away from the dim lights, Jarod finally
broke down and cried.
Sydney pause outside his door, listening to him vent his
feelings, hating that he hadn't been unable to protect him from being
used beyond his capacity, so soon after his impressive victory over
his devastating mental breakdown.
TBC…Please tell me what you think…. Big smiles jojarod@... or
jemac@...
Time for something positive to happen in Jarod's life – don't you
agree?
