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Post by Lois Lane on Jan 5, 2014 2:02:33 GMT -5
"No, well, not particularly," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "I'm the person who called you down here. I just wanted to say thanks for coming in so soon."
The doctor peaked into the room for a second before continuing. When he did, it was in a much quieter tone.
"Since you aren't related to her or have any other ties, there are limits as to what I can tell you; but both myself and her psychiatrist have agreed that continued visits would be good even after she leaves here. You aren't under any obligation but if you did want to drop by once in a while, here is the information to the facility she'll be transferred to at the end of this week."
He handed Ned an informational pamphlet of a psychiatric hospital. It had pictures of a flower and a dove and other relaxing objects on its cover and inside were lovely photographs of its gardens and its immaculately clean hallways. And on the last page, the visitation hours were circled for his convenience.
"It isn't too far from here," he explained. "There's a psychiatrist there that has agreed to treat her pro bono as part of a research study he's conducting on PTSD. A change is surroundings might not be the best thing at this point but we just don't have the resources for long-term suicide watch."
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Post by Ned on Jan 6, 2014 20:13:36 GMT -5
Ned's head, which had been bouncing up and down in a series of understanding, conversational nods, jerked to a stop.
"I--what? Sorry, but I--what?" he responded, laughing uneasily despite himself. "You mean, you're committing her to a mental institution? You couldn't just give her some therapy sessions with a psychiatrist here? I'm sure those would suffice--"
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Post by Lois Lane on Jan 8, 2014 4:49:14 GMT -5
"She... isn't well," he said, initially putting it delicately. He went on to explain. "She hasn't said one word in weeks-- no name, no information on who did this to her. She won't eat so she's lost almost ten pounds on top of being malnourished when she was brought in. She has no regular sleeping cycle-- Once, she had to be sedated because she hadn't slept in nearly forty eight hours. These are symptoms of severe clinical depression brought on by a traumatic event. It's the kind of malaise that tends to precede suicide attempts and we just don't have the resources to keep her here longterm. A psychiatric hospital is much more equipped to deal with both her observation and treatment."
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Post by Ned on Jan 10, 2014 5:12:45 GMT -5
"I--oh."
The facts were these:
Ned had little knowledge or understanding of medical technicalities beyond the standard (and the few not-so-standard) visits to the hospital, whilst growing up. He barely had a grasp on how his own body functioned, magic touch and all, let alone the life form of another creature and especially one as fragile as Jane Doe's. And so, during Dr. Kendall's explanation of the young woman's condition, Ned merely pursed his lips and inclined his head, silently attempting to gauge the extent to which she had been so mercilessly pried open and then sewn shut in the same manner.
He couldn't.
The Pie Maker decided that the doctor seemed to know what was best and said as much. "Yeah. Um, you seem to know what's best for her," he said, trying out the words on his tongue. "Okay. Let's go with that."
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Post by Lois Lane on Jan 12, 2014 3:38:13 GMT -5
"Yes, my colleagues and I agree that this is the best course of action," he reiterated. "She'll be in good hands. I'll be overseeing the transfer myself to make sure everything goes smoothly. Your name will be added to the visitors roster."
After another dose of thanks and reassurances, the doctor went on his way. A friendly nurse came by and told Ned that Jane Doe will have to go for a physical soon to prepare for her transfer. It was a nice way of saying "time to wrap it up."
Back in the room, she had watched everything through shutter-obscured windows and had even overheard a few words. But she had already known all of it and being reminded of it made her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. Despite this, she tried to muster up as much energy as she could before her visitor made his way back in.
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Post by Ned on Jan 16, 2014 21:55:17 GMT -5
Ned smiled his thanks before squaring his shoulders and lightly treading his way back into the room, his hands buried in his trouser pockets. He made surprisingly little noise for a man of his physical stature, but that, of course, could have been attributed to the measures he was willing to take to ease the young woman's mind. Biting the inside of his cheek, he stole a glance at Lois's features.
"It doesn't seem like a bad place," he offered. "If flowers and doves and unicorns are your thing."
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Post by Lois Lane on Jan 18, 2014 4:05:52 GMT -5
She nodded in agreement. "I'm looking forward to the gardens," she said with convincing energy and a smile, though the extra effort seemed to drain her. She leaned back against her bedpost and slumped a little.
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Post by Ned on Jan 23, 2014 22:49:46 GMT -5
Ned exhaled sharply and hunched his shoulders.
"I'm really sorry. I wish it didn't have to be like this and I could just take you home with me--oh!" he gasped, abruptly covering his open mouth with his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that!" he mumbled through his fingers, before jamming his hands into his trouser pockets again and staring at the ground. "That sounded gross and non-consensual and...gross. What I did mean was, if you were allowed to and you wanted a place to stay, I would have been more than happy to accommodate you at the Pie Hole. As a guest.
"As a friend," he corrected himself, unsure exactly how to categorize his relationship with Jane and whether she felt comfortable with him using the term so freely. "As a guest-friend."
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Post by Lois Lane on Jan 24, 2014 4:35:09 GMT -5
Her frustration with the circumstances manifested themselves in a sigh that sounded more like a hiccuped cry. "I can't--" she blurted but stopped before finishing her thought.
The staff made it a point not to tell her and she wasn't sure if Ned knew but all she really had to do was request an AMA form. It would state that she understood the risks involved with denying further treatment and that the hospital would not be liable for what happened to her after she left. But, as much as she dreaded the idea of being committed to an institution, she wasn't sure she didn't need to be there. There was something broken inside her; she didn't need a doctor to tell her that. Even if it meant possibly being locked up in a padded cell, she would much rather have some man in a lab coat piece her back together. The people there had at least made an informed decision about their career choice. Ned had just been an unfortunate passerby who had the added misfortune of having too big a heart to keep away.
"You don't want me around as either of those things," she warned.
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