N.
1. The Letter
May 28, 2008
Dear Charlie,
It seems both strange and perfectly natural to call you that, although when I last saw you I was nearly half the age I am now. I was sixteen and had a terrible crush on you. (Did you know? Of course you did.) Now Im a happily married woman with a little boy, and I see you all the time on CNN, talking about Things Medical. You are as handsome now (well, almost!) as you were back in the day, when the three of us used to go fishing and to movies at The Railroad in Freeport.
Those summers seem like a long time agoyou and Johnny inseparable, me tagging along whenever youd let me. Which was probably more often than I deserved! Yet your note of condolence brought it all back to me, and how I cried. Not just for Johnny, but for all three of us. And, I suppose, for how simple and uncomplicated life seemed. How golden we were!
You saw his obituary, of course. Accidental death can cover such a multitude of sins, cant it? In the news story, Johnnys death was reported as the result of a fall, and of course he did fallat a spot we all knew well, one he had asked me about only last Christmasbut it was no accident. There was a good deal of sedative in his bloodstream. Not nearly enough to kill him, but according to the coroner it could have been enough to disorient him, especially if he was looking over the railing. Hence, accidental death.
But I know it was suicide.
There was no note at home or on his body, but that might have been Johnnys idea of a kindness. And you, as a doctor yourself, will know that psychiatrists have an extremely high rate of suicide. Its as if the patients woes are a kind of acid, eating away at the psychic defenses of their therapists. In the majority of cases, those defenses are thick enough to remain intact. In Johnnys? I think not thanks to one unusual patient. And he wasnt sleeping much during the last two or three months of his life; such terrible dark circles under his eyes! Also, he was canceling appointments right & left. Going on long drives. He would not say where, but I think I may know.
That brings me to the enclosure, which I hope you will look at when you finish this letter. I know you are busy, butif it will help!think of me as the love-struck girl I was, with my hair tied back in a ponytail that was always coming loose, forever tagging along!
Although Johnny was on his own, he had formed a loose affiliation with two other shrinks in the last four years of his life. His current case files (not many, due to his cutting back) went to one of these Drs. following his death. Those files were in his office. But when I was cleaning out his study at home, I came upon the little manuscript I have enclosed. They are case notes for a patient he calls N., but I have seen his more formal case notes on a few occasions (not to snoop, but only because a folder happened to be open on his desk), and I know this is not like those. For one thing, they werent done in his office, because there is no heading, as on the other case notes I have seen, and there is no red CONFIDENTIAL stamp at the bottom. Also, you will notice a faint vertical line on the pages. His home printer does this.
But there was something else, which you will see when you unwrap the box. He has printed two words on the cover in thick black strokes: BURN THIS. I almost did, without looking inside. I thought, God help me, it might be his private stash of drugs or print-outs of some weird strain of Internet pornography. In the end, daughter of Pandora that I am, my curiosity got the best of me. I wish it hadnt.
Charlie, I have an idea my brother may have been planning a book, something popular in the style of Oliver Sacks. Judging by this piece of manuscript, it was obsessive-compulsive behavior he was initially focused on, and when I add in his suicide (if it was suicide!), I wonder if his interest didnt spring from that old adage Physician,
1. The Letter
May 28, 2008
Dear Charlie,
It seems both strange and perfectly natural to call you that, although when I last saw you I was nearly half the age I am now. I was sixteen and had a terrible crush on you. (Did you know? Of course you did.) Now Im a happily married woman with a little boy, and I see you all the time on CNN, talking about Things Medical. You are as handsome now (well, almost!) as you were back in the day, when the three of us used to go fishing and to movies at The Railroad in Freeport.
Those summers seem like a long time agoyou and Johnny inseparable, me tagging along whenever youd let me. Which was probably more often than I deserved! Yet your note of condolence brought it all back to me, and how I cried. Not just for Johnny, but for all three of us. And, I suppose, for how simple and uncomplicated life seemed. How golden we were!
You saw his obituary, of course. Accidental death can cover such a multitude of sins, cant it? In the news story, Johnnys death was reported as the result of a fall, and of course he did fallat a spot we all knew well, one he had asked me about only last Christmasbut it was no accident. There was a good deal of sedative in his bloodstream. Not nearly enough to kill him, but according to the coroner it could have been enough to disorient him, especially if he was looking over the railing. Hence, accidental death.
But I know it was suicide.
There was no note at home or on his body, but that might have been Johnnys idea of a kindness. And you, as a doctor yourself, will know that psychiatrists have an extremely high rate of suicide. Its as if the patients woes are a kind of acid, eating away at the psychic defenses of their therapists. In the majority of cases, those defenses are thick enough to remain intact. In Johnnys? I think not thanks to one unusual patient. And he wasnt sleeping much during the last two or three months of his life; such terrible dark circles under his eyes! Also, he was canceling appointments right & left. Going on long drives. He would not say where, but I think I may know.
That brings me to the enclosure, which I hope you will look at when you finish this letter. I know you are busy, butif it will help!think of me as the love-struck girl I was, with my hair tied back in a ponytail that was always coming loose, forever tagging along!
Although Johnny was on his own, he had formed a loose affiliation with two other shrinks in the last four years of his life. His current case files (not many, due to his cutting back) went to one of these Drs. following his death. Those files were in his office. But when I was cleaning out his study at home, I came upon the little manuscript I have enclosed. They are case notes for a patient he calls N., but I have seen his more formal case notes on a few occasions (not to snoop, but only because a folder happened to be open on his desk), and I know this is not like those. For one thing, they werent done in his office, because there is no heading, as on the other case notes I have seen, and there is no red CONFIDENTIAL stamp at the bottom. Also, you will notice a faint vertical line on the pages. His home printer does this.
But there was something else, which you will see when you unwrap the box. He has printed two words on the cover in thick black strokes: BURN THIS. I almost did, without looking inside. I thought, God help me, it might be his private stash of drugs or print-outs of some weird strain of Internet pornography. In the end, daughter of Pandora that I am, my curiosity got the best of me. I wish it hadnt.
Charlie, I have an idea my brother may have been planning a book, something popular in the style of Oliver Sacks. Judging by this piece of manuscript, it was obsessive-compulsive behavior he was initially focused on, and when I add in his suicide (if it was suicide!), I wonder if his interest didnt spring from that old adage Physician,
Similar Books
