Chapter Fifteen

Catherine finished her second cup of coffee and glanced up at the cafeteria clock. It was 7:15. Residents and students were beginning to gather in tired clumps to discuss the nights events and the days demands over breakfast. She was one of the few staff present at such an hour. The real business of the hospital wouldn’t begin until the outpatient clinics began at 8:30. Catherine had come early for one specific reason -- to intercept Hazel Holcomb before the Chief of Psychiatry’s busy schedule made her inaccessible for the day. Catherine saw the familiar figure moving through the coffee line at precisely 7:30, carrying a coffee and Danish as she had each morning for the fifteen years that Catherine had known her. She was nearing sixty, and her age showed only in the grey of her hair and a slight thickening of her body. Her brisk step and quick piercing gaze were as youthful as ever.

Hazel Holcomb’s face registered faint surprise when she saw Catherine beckoning to her from across the room. As she settled into the chair across from her colleague, she said, "I don’t suppose this is just a pleasant coincidence, is it?"

Catherine flushed in embarrassment. She always meant to call Hazel just to chat, or perhaps have dinner, but her schedule never seemed to leave time for it. Hazel had been her supervisor when she was a resident, and they had since become friends. Perhaps more than anyone else she knew, Catherine valued Hazels opinion. She had the ability to provide insight without judgment, and the wisdom to hold her counsel until the patient --or friend -- was ready to accept it.

"No, it isn’t," Catherine responded. "I have a professional problem I wanted to discuss with you. Do you mind me interrupting your breakfast time?" Catherine knew that this was probably one of the few private moments Hazel would have all day.

"Your company is always a pleasure, Catherine," the chief of psychiatry replied. "Tell me about your problem."

Catherine relayed the details of Janet Ryan’s involvement with the recent assaults and the amnesia that followed.

"I’m not sure how hard I should be trying to reverse her amnesia," Catherine stated. "Obviously, its vital to know exactly what she witnessed. Its critical to the police investigation. On the other hand, I have to think of Janet’s psyche first. She is a sexual abuse victim herself. Her brother repeatedly raped her throughout her childhood. I’m certain that the shock of witnessing the assault this week triggered many old terrors for her."

"Enough to account for the amnesia?" Hazel asked, dunking the corner of her cheese Danish into the steamy black coffee.

Catherine shrugged. "The beating she took by itself may account for the amnesia --but she’s beginning to have flashbacks from her early childhood. Previously unremembered episodes of abuse. That is a result of witnessing the rape, I’m sure."

"She must be very fragile right now," Hazel commented.

"She is, of course. She’s been working with me individually, and in group, for some time. She has made a lot of progress. This whole event has brought up a great deal for her to handle all at once."

Hazel pushed her chair back slightly and sat quietly regarding Catherine Rawlings. Catherine had been the brightest resident she had ever trained, and she was now the most accomplished psychiatrist on her staff. Hazel hoped to see Catherine assume her own position as head of psychiatry when Hazel retired. She knew her to be both an empathetic therapist and accomplished theoretician. Hazel knew that when Catherine sought her advice, it was often simply to confirm what she already believed.

"What do you think would happen to Janet if she were to recall the details of this recent trauma before she was prepared for it?" Hazel asked at last.

Catherine thought carefully before replying. "I cant be sure -- there’s a good chance she would handle it well. She has a supportive partner, and she has made great progress with resolving much of her confusion as to her own guilt -- or lack of it -- for the abuse in her childhood." Catherine hesitated, thinking aloud. "But there is still a possibility that she might see her inability to prevent this rape as a reflection of what she considers to be her failure to protect herself from her brother. It could be damaging."

"That’s your answer, then, isn’t it," Hazel stated calmly. "Shell remember when its safe for her to remember."

Catherine felt a wave of relief as she often did when Hazel grasped the essence of some professional dilemma and reduced it to its simplest form.

Of course, her first responsibility was to her patients welfare, regardless of the potential risk that existed if the rapist was not apprehended quickly. If any doubt existed as to Janet’s well-being, Catherine owed it to her to be cautious.

"Of course. You’re so right," Catherine said quietly. "I’m afraid I momentarily lost sight of exactly what my issues are."

Hazel recognized the look of self-accusation that crossed Catherine’s fine features, clouding them for an instant with self-doubt. Ever the perfectionist, Hazel thought.

"Don’t be so hard on yourself, Katie," Hazel said softly, using the nickname few people knew. "This is not a simple matter. Are the police pressuring you to force Janet along?"

"Oh, no," Catherine replied quickly. "Rebecca has been wonderful with Janet."

Hazel picked up immediately on the change in Catherine’s tone, but she didn’t comment on it. Catherine, however, flushed slightly and hastened to explain.

"Rebecca Frye is the detective in charge of the rape investigation. She’s very good with Janet. She’s frustrated, of course, because she doesn’t have much to go on. But, she’s allowed me to handle Janet my own way."

"Sounds unusual for the police," Hazel noted dryly. It had not been her experience that the police were particularly sensitive about how they elicited information.

"Rebecca is unusual. She’s a police officer, down to her last cell, but she’s also a sensitive, tender woman. I don’t think that’s been easy for her." As Catherine spoke, she remembered the exhausted woman who had sought comfort in her arms just a few hours before, and her body warmed to the memory. Hazel knew Catherine too well not to notice.

"How serious is this -- with this police woman?" Hazel asked pointedly.

Catherine met Hazels gaze evenly, but her eyes betrayed her uncertainty. She sighed deeply and shook her head.

"Oh, Hazel. I wish I could answer that. I hardly know her, really, and yet, my feelings for her are so strong! She’s hardened by her work and emotionally barricaded because of it; but she’s also hiding her fear and her tenderness and her caring just to maintain her balance." Catherine spread her hands in a rare gesture of helplessness. "I’m afraid I’m quite taken with her."

Hazel wasn’t all that surprised. She was probably the person who knew Catherine best, and she had watched her hold herself apart from potential relationships -- unsatisfied by casual encounters, not given to sexual liaisons, searching, seeking some deeper connection and being continually disappointed. She knew it had been some years since Catherine had even seriously dated anyone, and that her detachment had grown out of her disillusionment with love. For all of Catherine’s training and knowledge of life, she remained, at her core, a true romantic. And she remained a woman, Hazel feared, who might never find the soul partner she so desired.

"Well --" Hazel said finally, "I think I can understand your dilemma better now." She raised a hand to halt Catherine’s quick reply. "Oh, I do not for an instant doubt your professional judgment, or your ability to protect your patient. But ones head is hardly clear when one is falling in love."

Catherine blushed fully and looked down at her hands. "Do you think I’m foolish?" she asked softly.

Hazel reached across the table, touching Catherine’s hand gently. "Not a bit," she replied. "Its normal and healthy -- and about time."

"It may turn into a disaster," Catherine went on, voicing her fear for the first time. "She’s afraid, I feel, of being hurt. I’m not sure she’s even capable of knowing her feelings for me, or for anything."

"She’s not alone in that, Katie," Hazel said sadly, "but, she’s touched you in a way no one has in years, and I doubt that she could have done that if she were truly irrevocably lost to her feelings. Trust to time -- and try to take care of yourself."

Catherine smiled her gratitude and straightened her shoulders. Pushing back from the table she stated, "I’ve got to make rounds."

They accompanied each other in friendly silence, strengthened as always by their encounter.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-16