Work Text:
Dr. Chilton stopped by this afternoon. I can’t tell if he was disappointed at what he saw: me, sitting, scribbling in my journal. Normal. He asked how I was feeling, in which I replied, “fine.” Had he arrived ten minutes before, he would have seen me vomit scrambled eggs.
He informed me that my attorney, Leonard Brauer, had just called from a hospital. Something he ate. Allergies. Anaphylactic shock. He nearly died. Brauer should be in tomorrow.
Chilton has an annoying habit of lingering like the heavy stench of broken septic pipes. I instantly felt bad for any woman he has ever hit on. After an awkward length of him prattling on about nothing, he told me to expect another treatment in a couple of days. I did not respond.
I understand one of the main side effects of ECT treatment is memory loss. I am faced with a riddle that plays in my head: What is the first thing you remember before you forgot? I have to retrace my steps somehow, and hope I can identify the holes caused by the Encephalitis from the holes caused by treatment. Yes, it's only been one course…but I don’t trust Chilton to follow guidelines. I don’t know how much “experimental” power he has used to later write about for a medical journal. I can’t remember if he has been published before. I really could care less.
They tell me the ECT was administered so urgently due to my sudden manic violence. I don’t buy it. Apparently, on my way to one of my outdoor walks, I turned on a nurse walking by, slammed an orderly pulling me off her, and elbowed Barney in the eye. I remember my last walk clearly. Barney and I smiled at each other. No violence.
There is also evidence in my journals here that an attack occurred on another wing. These journals, this site. I am ever grateful for the extensive documentation.
When Barney gets back, I’ll have to ask him about the incident.
I have a copy of the transcript from Dr. Bloom’s visit. I’ve avoided it. I’ll read it soon enough.
-Will Graham, journal entry #6