The Thanatos Syndrome

turtleneck sweater, suede jacket. His office is not here at the hospital or close by but at the federal complex on the river. Dressed as he is, he is probably dropping by after his morning ride and before going to work. It is clear that he is doing just that, dropping by an ordinary small general hospital in his riding clothes, as much as to say that his real work as neurologist is elsewhere.
    Standing next to him is Sue Brown, the floor nurse, a pleasant woman and an excellent nurse, who was glad to see me and made me welcome. She cheerfully entered the test I ordered in Mickey’s chart, which is no doubt the chart Bob Comeaux is holding.
    â€œHow do you feel, Mickey?”
    â€œOh, fine! Fine!” Her legs move under the covers. Again she somehow gives the effect of straddling.
    â€œWhat are your plans when you leave here?”
    â€œVermont!” she says in the same mild exclamatory voice.
    â€œYou’re going back to your grandmother’s farm?”
    â€œYes!”
    â€œWhy are you going?”
    â€œCool! Too hot here! Vandals and police and all!”
    â€œWhere are the vandals?”
    â€œOut at the ranch!”
    â€œThere has been some trouble out there?”
    â€œOh yes! Terrible!”
    â€œI see. Who’s going to look after the ranch while you’re gone?”
    â€œDr. Comeaux!”
    â€œDoes going back to Vermont remind you of your dream?”
    â€œDream?” It is not so much a question as the puzzled repetition of the word.
    â€œYou remember. The dream you used to have about the cellar, the smell of winter apples, the expectation of something important about to happen which would tell you the secret of your life.”
    â€œApples? Oh yes. In the hamper next to the chimney.”
    â€œThat’s right. What are you going to do after you get to Vermont?” I am curious to know how she will answer a question which requires making a plan and telling of the plan in sentences.
    â€œSo much better there! Not to worry. Dr. Comeaux—”
    â€œDr. Comeaux says you’ll feel much better there?” Almost despite myself, I find myself repeating and filling out her utterances as one would with a child.
    She nods emphatically. “Right. Power of attorney!”
    â€œI see. Now, Mickey, I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. I’m going to do two quick little tests right now. All you have to do is follow along with me. Then I’m going to take you down to the PETscan room and they’re going to do another test. All you have to do is sit in a chair and they’ll put a funny cap on your head and let you listen to music and words—like a radio headset, okay?”
    She nods eagerly. Now you’re talking! This is what she’s good at. Taking directions, cooperating—not like that bad old woman in the next bed!—playing the game.
    â€œI’m going to crank you up straight. Now.”
    I sit on the bed, leaning almost athwart her, and, taking her face in both hands, turn her directly toward me. I cover her left eye.
    What do you see?”
    â€œYou.”
    â€œAm I moving?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNow.” With a forefinger I depress the fundus, the eyeball, of the open eye through the eyelid. “Am I moving now?”
    â€œYes.”
    I take my hand away. “Now, with both eyes open, look back and forth as fast as you can.”
    She does it, then looks at me hopefully, to see if she has done well.
    â€œThat’s fine. What happened?”
    â€œWhat—”
    â€œDid I move?”
    â€œYes! You—everything—the room—”
    â€œThat’s fine, Mickey.”
    She looks pleased.
    It is not fine. What is amazing is that with a normal eye and a normal brain, no matter how violent the movement of the eyes, the room—and I—will be perceived by you as what they are, stationary.
    â€œOkay, Mickey. Now let’s do this. I’m going to roll the bed table right up here, give you pencil and paper, okay? Now, what I want you to do is make X’s and O’s like this.” I show her and she makes some X’s and O’s and looks up for approval.
    â€œThat’s fine, Mickey. Now here’s what I want you to do. Make an X and an O, then two X’s and O’s, then three X’s and three O’s and so on. Do you understand?”
    She nods eagerly and starts making X’s and O’s. She makes an X and an O, two X’s