(by Dave, 35-40 min)
Dave stopped walking toward his boss when he heard him say it was okay. Even so, only when the psychiatrist thanked him for coming so quickly did he know the situation with this family was likely de-escalating. It was Dr. Johnson’s way of letting his trusted security guard know his presence alone would suffice. Dave retreated down the hallway of the Medical University of South Carolina’s Psychiatric Hospital to the nursing station but kept an eye on things.
Dr. Johnson addressed the family. “Dr. Holmes,” he said to the husband. “I am Dr. Steven Johnson, the Medical Director of this facility.” Dave nodded his head knowing that Steve was very good at settling people down, but not always. He remembered about three months ago standing at the same nursing station watching as a patient’s father became enraged. Dave raced to his boss and pulled the father away as he thrashed, face beat red kicking his legs out trying to make contact with Dr. Johnson. It was rare but experience taught Dave to never let his guard drop completely until potentially violent people left the facility.
Watching the Holmes family huff and puff in response to his boss he relaxed a bit hearing the familiar tones of people in control. This one was going to be okay. After a final exchange about when the mother got home, presumably on an important day, the couple stormed toward the elevator and left in a huff. Steve nodded his head in gratitude toward the security guard. Dave filed away what he saw as the couple passed him and returned to his office.
He plopped his six-foot three frame down into a chair that swiveled so he could see the full constellation of monitors displaying the public spaces in the facility. A typical day for Dave would probably seem boring to many, but it wasn’t for him. Watching computer monitors, responding to calls from the staff, and walking routine security patrols suited him fine. Plenty of time to think about what he was seeing, and he saw much more than anyone else. As his eyes scanned the screens searching, he recollected five years ago when he first learned of Dr. Steve Johnson.
****
At the time he ran a construction business building high-end homes for wealthy people up on the hill. He loved that work too, but managing crews, suppliers and clients increasingly claimed his time and the pleasure of building was overwhelmed with annoyances.
The job was beginning to depress him and his wife, Chloe, suggested he do something about it. Chloe didn’t know that much more than his job was disturbing Dave. He could see in her something he did not like, and it finally galvanized him into at least visiting their family physician. He had to get right for her sake.
He and Chloe had joined the family practice and were assigned to the newest osteopathic doctor. Osteopaths were supposedly trained in holistic medicine. Dave thought maybe she would understand.
It took some real courage for him to make the appointment because if he truly wanted to tackle his depression, he would have to bring up a topic he learned during his childhood no one could or would understand. Then and now he kept this part of himself hidden wanting to avoid being labeled. Even Chloe didn’t know about it. But the burden was great and sometimes when the rest of life wasn’t fulfilling, it would drag him inexorably to a dark, sad state. Chloe was going to need better.
****
A knock at the door jarred him from his recollections. “Come in.”
“Hey Buddy,” said a smiling Steve Johnson. “You saw something in Mrs. Holmes didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“What do you think?”
“She’s getting by, Steve, but I’m concerned.”
“You think I should reach out to them?”
“I’m not sure. Do you plan to see them again?”
“It’s possible because their daughter, Stephanie, will be here for a few days, but I’m not sure whether I’ll have any time to talk with them beyond discharge work.” Steve and Dave stared at each other.
“I’m sorry, Steve. If I could see them again while they’re talking to you maybe, but for now I’m at a loss.”
“No need to be sorry. Because of you I know more now than I did and that’s a good thing. Let’s see how it shakes out and maybe we can get you in their presence again.”
“Okay.” Dave smiled as his boss patted his shoulder and left.
He returned to the monitors eyes ever sharp, but his mind wondered back to five years ago and his meeting with the family physician.
****
“Mr. Kowalski. Hi, nice to meet you,” said a smiling brown-haired baby as she presented her delicate hand. “I’m Dr. Biswas.” She had a slight Indian accent.
Dave took her hand in his beefy paw. “Nice to meet you as well.”
“What brings you in today?”
Oh boy, the moment of truth thought Dave. He couldn’t pull the trigger. “My wife wanted me to see you because she thinks I’m depressed.”
“Are you?”
“I guess that depends on how you define depressed,” replied Dave. “But, yes, I’m sad. I run a construction company and it just…. isn’t satisfying anymore.”
Dr. Biswas fired a myriad of questions about sleeping, eating, exercise, etc. Dave responded to them realizing she was trying to chase down any possible physiological reason for his sadness. He started to feel bad. This poor physician was trying her best to pin down why her patient was sad when he knew exactly why and was giving her only a smidgen of the story. There was a pause in the interrogation as Dr. Biswas typed everything into the computer.
“Dr. Biswas, could you stop typing for a moment?”
“Of course,” the physician responded and looked directly at Dave.
Dave found himself liking Dr. Biswas. Yes, there was genuine concern in her eyes. Maybe, he thought.
“I’m concerned about my wife, Chloe. She’s not doing well.”
“Have I seen her?” asked Dr. Biswas.
“No, you haven’t seen her because she doesn’t know anything is wrong.”
Dr. Biswas blinked a few times. “But you think something is wrong?”
“Yes, I’m quite certain of it.”
“What makes you think that?”
Dave hesitated, trying his best to figure out a way to talk about this without talking about it. This was Chloe, though, so he decided to jump in. But first.
“Dr. Biswas can I ask a favor?”
The physician nodded her head yes leaning back in her chair clearly intrigued.
“Could you not type into that computer what I’m going to tell you.”
“I can’t guarantee that Mr. Kowalski,” the physician said firmly. “There are rules and laws I must follow, and I might be required to enter things you tell me. However, I can assure you that your medical records are confidential and between you and me only.”
“Are you going to type in that I asked for this favor?”
“No, no rules about that.” Amazingly, Dr. Biswas smiled as if the conversation had not moved into this bizarre arena. That and Chloe finally pushed Dave onward.
“I can see things about people that no one else can. People have a light that surrounds them, but no one can see it. I wish I couldn’t see it, but I can. That light has dimmed considerably in Chloe, and something is wrong with her.” A moment of silence ensued as Dr. Biswas considered this. Dave couldn’t help himself.
“Are you going to type that into the computer?” He figured anyone reading that note, maybe even Dr. Biswas, would think he was psychotic and contemplating doing his wife in by saying she was already ill.
Dr. Biswas remained unrattled. “Yes and no,” she finally replied. “I am entering into your medical chart that you see an aura around objects because that could be a symptom of visual dysfunction.” Her fingers were rapidly typing on the keyboard. “To rule out any physiological cause for your symptom, I am also referring you to an ophthalmologist to examine your visual system. Thirdly, I am writing a referral for Dr. Steve Johnson. He’s a psychiatrist who might be able to help you with your depression.”
She stopped typing and looked at Dave. “I am not going to enter that you believe the aura you see around people is associated with their health. However, I strongly recommend you discuss this interpretation of your perception with Dr. Johnson.”
She paused and the genuine concern returned to her eyes. “There are no lights that surround people Mr. Kowalski. The fact that you see them could be caused by disease or it could be a mental disorder. The referrals I’ve given you can help us figure that out. Sound okay to you?”
Dave was relieved and disappointed. Except for the referral to a shrink, there was no permanent label to be found lurking in his medical records. At least her response was not to consider him a psychotic contemplating murder, but like the others she couldn’t comprehend. Thank God he didn’t tell her the rest of it.
“Thank you Dr. Biswas,” said the big man as he rose to his feet.
“You can pick up the referrals at the front desk,” said Biswas kindly. “If you are still worried about your wife, ask her to come in for a checkup. You both are new to the practice so it would be good for us to get a baseline on you both.”
“Okay.”
****
Dave’s musings were interrupted as one of the monitors revealed an altercation in the hallway between two people. He hurried to the location somewhat concerned. One of the combatants was devoid of surrounding light. A bad sign.
The front door eased open as Dave shouldered his way into the living room. He set the bags of groceries down on the coffee table and closed the door. Happy to be through with a challenging day, he breathed a sigh of relief. A while ago he put in a fancy computer system hating the emptiness that greeted him each night. He said, “I’m home” and the entire place came to life. All of the downstairs lights came on along with the television.
“Channel four,” he said, and the local news appeared on the screen. Better, he thought at the sound of human voices. He glanced quickly at the television and was glad that the newscasters were all glowing brightly as they should. He chose channel four because the broadcasters seemed happy and healthy and for a while, he could forget the trouble he involuntarily saw every day.
Although he left the construction business to use his “talent” as Steve called it, he needed to retreat from it at night. The problem was, Dave hated being alone and since Chloe’s death his home was a paradox of relief and burden. Isolated he could forget the trouble in the lives of so many he saw but the price was loneliness. Tuning into the local news took the edge off the latter as he brought some people into his home selected specifically because they were happy and healthy.
Dave put the groceries away and pulled out the dinner he made for that night over the weekend. Two minutes in the microwave and he headed back to his warmly decorated living room. The chairs were lazy boys so he could easily relax. There was a nice oriental throw rug in the middle of the room that tied in with the curtains. Pictures of he and Chloe hung on the wall along with some they purchased when she was alive. The lighting was warm and comfortable. He felt as good as he could in this room because it seemed like Chloe was here with him.
The news ended and he commanded the TV off. “Smooth jazz,“ he said to the air. A soulful saxophone played, and he leaned back letting the stress of the day fall from him. Thank God he couldn’t hear the light from recordings of the musicians. Even movies were no escape for him because the film caught…..what did Dr. Biswas call it….oh yes, the aura around them. That was a good word for it. Remembering the physician took him back to the time after his visit with her.
****
He tried desperately to get Chloe to the doctor. She was 25 years old and not feeling any symptoms. In his experience at the time, only two things caused the normal level of glow to disappear from people. They were either sick or emotionally disturbed. At the time of Chloe’s illness, she was very happy with their life, so he knew she was getting sick.
She kept asking him why the push for her to go to the doctor until one day he told her. Told her the whole thing. All the struggles he had as a kid as he discovered and then suppressed his stupid sixth sense to avoid getting labeled crazy. How hard it was to look at people in the world and know something was wrong. And how difficult it was to know she was getting sick and would do nothing about it.
Chloe’s mouth was slightly agape after he finished confessing. “Dave, you can’t possibly believe this is true. There must be something going on with you. Did you ask Dr. Biswas about it?”
“Yes,” he said nodding his head. “She gave me referrals for an ophthalmologist and a psychiatrist.”
“I don’t remember you making those appointments,” said Chloe. “Did you see those people?”
“You’re not listening Chloe. This has been going on since I was a little kid. There’s nothing wrong with my eyes and I’m not crazy, but sweetheart you are most definitely sick.”
“Dave, you’re scaring me. I want you to make an appointment with that psychiatrist today. Promise me.”
“He won’t be able to make what I see go way. No one can.” he replied emphatically.
“You don’t know that. Have you received therapy for this before?”
“No, Chloe. I just learned to live with it. But when you live with it long enough the evidence becomes overwhelming. It’s real. Please, you need to see someone because I know you are sick.”
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll make an appointment to see Dr. Biswas when you make one to see the psychiatrist.”
“Okay.”
“No, not just okay Dave. Pick up the phone and call him right now so I can see you do it.”
Dave sighed thinking, and this is why I don’t tell anyone. He called the number on the referral, made the appointment, hung up and stretched out his hand with the phone to Chloe. He raised his eyebrows.
She made her appointment as well and passed away two years later of leukemia.
****
Three years passed from Dave’s first encounter with the Holmes family. Unfortunately, the couple never returned for any kind of therapy session. When their daughter Stephanie was discharged, they picked her up and left.
Since then, Dave’s perceptive abilities had strengthened, and he saw much more in the aura that surrounded people than whether or not it was there or diminished. There were subtleties within it, and the more he used his ability to try and help people, the more perceptive he became.
It was a welcome improvement because he no longer viewed his talent as a burden, although it took its toll. Working with Steve he learned the good he could do far outweighed the burden of seeing things about people that no one else could. He felt like he had a purpose in life once again, and Steve was so clever about how he was used that only the two of them knew his secret.
As he settled into his first pass of the monitors for the day, Dave remembered how he discovered the far more powerful aspect of his talent that Steve now occasionally used. He was seeing the psychiatrist at Chloe’s urging and remembered how delighted he was at the man’s approach.
****
For the first time in his life a healthcare practitioner entertained the idea that what he was saying might be true. He learned later this was not the case. It was Steve’s practice style to accept a person’s reality as true while you were uncovering the causes of delusion. All of that changed during one of their therapy sessions.
Dave had no sooner sat down in the chair when a knock came at the door. The physician immediately looked irritated. He was not to be interrupted when delivering care. The knock occurred again and before Steve could answer, his secretary opened the door and said she had an emergency in the waiting room.
Someone was crying uncontrollably, and a man’s voice was escalating in volume. Steve hustled from the room with Dave at his heels. A woman was crying with one hand over her mouth as a man stood over her shouting obscenities and screaming she had ruined his life. Dave saw something in the man that he rarely saw. His arura was not only gone but the emptiness seemed to encroach on the substance of him. His edges were blurred and he could no longer see a clear boundary between the man and his environment.
Dave saw this state only once before filling up at a gas station. An argument broke out between two men at the next pump. As they were shouting, the aura abruptly faded from one of the men and he blurred around the edges. The guy reached into his car to retrieve a gun, but Dave was already moving instinctively recognizing the hazard of what he saw. He grabbed the man just in time causing the bullet to fire into the roof. Grateful for his large size, he wrestled the gun from the man and prevented a murder.
He wasn’t fast enough this time, and the man backhanded his wife across the face hard. She screamed and fell over from the blow as Dave reached the man. He caught the guy’s arm on the backswing for another blow, but even his size couldn’t overcome the adrenaline-infused strength of the enraged husband. Dave tumbled forward falling toward the poor injured wife. To prevent his full bulk from landing on her, he extended his free arm catching himself on her left hip. The man’s head snapped back as if he had been struck. Stunned, he wrenched his arm from Dave and stood in the middle of the room rubbing his face.
By this time Steve was also on the move and stepped between Dave and the now injured man. Things settled down, the police were called, and the situation slowly came to an end. Steve told his secretary she could go seeing she was disturbed. When the authorities left the room the two men looked at each other.
“What in God’s name?” said a flabbergasted Steve Johnson.
“I have no idea,” said an equally stunned Dave.
“Did you hit that guy, Dave?”
“No, you saw what happened. One of my hands was holding his arm and one landed on the lady’s hip.”
Steve’s left hand moved up to his chin and started to rub as he thought hard about what he saw. Then something dawned on him. “How did you know? I mean you moved so fast from behind me. When I looked at the guy he was just shouting?”
Dave recounted the entire gasoline station episode. “I didn’t tell you or Dr. Biswas about the whole blurring on the edges thing figuring you both would think I was really nuts.”
****
Dave caught some movement in the monitors bringing him back to the present and saw a man and a woman heading into the facility. He picked up the phone to call Steve.
Dr. and Mrs. Holmes had indeed scheduled time with Steve. “I wonder what happened to bring them back?” the security guard mused out loud.
Even on the monitor Dave noticed the distinct flickering in Marjorie Holmes’ aura that signified profound depression. He rose from his chair and headed to Steve’s office. The physician asked that he come to the waiting room and have a seat. Dave was excited hoping that maybe he would be able to help this couple.
He waited about 45 minutes when the door to the office opened. Steve told Dave later that the couple had gone through another confrontation apparently similar to when Marjorie’s mother-in-law had passed. Dr. Holmes then and now insisted his wife take care of things at home with seemingly little connection to her emotional state. His only concern was his precious surgery department at the hospital.
Marjorie was working for her real estate job but was fired when she missed several appointments with clients. After Stephanie left home to go to college fully recovered from her previous suicide attempt, Marjorie became depressed losing interest in her work. When she tried to tell her husband about her feelings, he would cut her off and say she just needed to be a housewife. He would take care of her, and she needed to take care of the home. That’s all she needed to do. It was inconceivable to him that this and the absence of her daughter might depress her.
After Stephanie’s suicide attempt, Marjorie and her daughter had grown quite close, so it was a real blow when she left home. Her only friend walked out the door the same way her dearly beloved mother-in-law had passed away and left her alone.
Dave knew none of this when the door to the office opened. He had one job and was getting quite good at doing it.
“Dave, could you escort Dr. and Mrs. Holmes down to the cafeteria and get them a cup of coffee?”
“Happy too,” said the seemingly innocent Dave. He prattled on about current events and filled the time walking to the cafeteria with inanities. The couple walked along quietly with Dr. Holmes occasionally chuckling when Dave observed how bad the local baseball team was. They arrived at the cafeteria and Dave pointed to an open table.
“I’ll be right back.” He noticed Dr. Holmes pull out his cell phone and start texting as his wife stared off into space.
“Here we go,” said Dave as he sank down into a chair at the table sitting the coffees in front of the couple. He caught Marjorie’s attention and slid his hand from the coffee cup to hers gently patting it. She smiled halfheartedly.
“It’ll be okay,” he said with real conviction. As he did, he put his other hand on the shoulder of Dr. Holmes and said a second time it’ll be okay as he patted them both.
The waves of depression slammed into Dr. Holmes who never before experienced such sadness. The cell phone dropped from his trembling hand bouncing off the table and shattering as it hit the floor. It had no impact. Anguish spread across his expression as tears tumbled unbidden down his face. Overwhelming hopelessness hammered him relentlessly. The emptiness was pernicious creeping into every thought he struggled to have. He gasped for air as if he was suffocating.
Dave saw this before. People who were depressed didn’t get there all at once. It crept up on them and they accommodated their lives to include it. Sadness became routine and malaise something they learned to deal with. The gradual leaching away of joy for living was dealt with by incrementally adjusting. Dr. Holmes was having no chance to make the adjustments most people make over many years. The full-blown depression developed in Marjorie was hitting him all at once. Dave knew he was going to have to break the connection between the couple soon. He’d seen people pass out from the emotional pain and inability to breathe Dr. Holmes was experiencing. He looked quickly at Marjorie.
Her eyes were riveted on the physician as understanding spread deeply into her thinking. Dave knew she was seeing for the first time how much the physician cared for his patients. Yes, he was a blowhard and liked his status, but his devotion to his job was so much more about saving people’s lives. He truly cared deeply about the patient’s he healed.
The surgeon finally looked over at his wife his face awash in grief still struggling to breathe and Dave knew it was time to stop or Dr. Holmes might get hurt. He removed his hands, but the faces did not change. The knowledge had been passed and Dave smiled broadly at them both saying, “I suspect Dr. Johnson is ready for you again. Let’s head back up.”
As they retraced their steps to the psychiatrist’s office Dave reflected anew how ironic life was. He spent so much of his hiding who he was from people because he believed they would think him crazy. What he could do and see just wasn’t possible. What a blessing that was now.
Not once in all the times he had helped Dr. Johnson did any of the patients see a connection between their explosion of insight about another and the touch of a security guard’s hands. After all, that just doesn’t happen.
He smiled at the quirkiness of how God works knowing that the Holmes had much to talk about. If today is remembered, they can look forward to a relationship neither could have conceived before. As usual, Steve Johnson stood at his door leaning on the jamb chatting with the secretary. He never scheduled another patient when he was going to use Dave. As the couple walked back into Steve’s office the psychiatrist nodded at his oh so talented friend. Dave returned the nod and thanked God once again for his amazing talent and that his life now had a rich and meaningful purpose.
****
Author’s note
Jesus said: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37-39).
Sometimes I wonder why it seems so hard to love another in the same way we love ourselves. Maybe one reason we look past people while immersed in our own concerns is because we only truly know ourselves. We know our own histories. The experiences that left us strong and those that left us weakened. We know exactly the level of happiness and sadness we are experiencing. But somebody else? We only know what they show us and even then, it’s woefully inadequate. With such a disparity in knowledge it’s understandable that we think more about ourselves, love ourselves more, than we do our neighbors.
What would the world be like if there were people in it like Dave the security guard? A person who could act as a conduit between two people permitting them for at least a moment to experience what the other person is experiencing. Not just hear about it, but to live it for just an instant.
Would we move so quickly past people if through a single touch the ramifications of what was happening in their life could be perceived? If we could touch the hand of someone grieving at a funeral and truly know how they felt. If we could put an arm on a shoulder and feel all the joints hurting in someone with rheumatoid arthritis or the overwhelming nausea and fatigue of chemotherapy. If we could hold the hand of a child moved from one foster home to another and sense the emotional confusion. I suspect we would be far more willing to reach out in compassion and spend a few moments with these people because we would know them as we know ourselves and could extend empathetic, authentic compassion.
This is the message I was hoping to convey in this piece of fiction. We can’t do what Dave does, but we can stop and listen to what people are willing to tell us specifically because we are trying to love them as we love ourselves. We can choose to be wholly devoted to what we’re hearing rather than distracted by our own worries. Perhaps we can delay thinking about ourselves long enough to respond to what they say by probing deeper with the goal of understanding them better. It’s not easy because, alas, we don’t have Dave’s talent. But it is something we can work toward.
There is one more thing that I hope came through in the story. Dave struggles with the burden of being able to see an indicator of how people feel. He does so because he cares about them, explaining why his life became full of purpose when he could help them.
Now imagine how God must feel. Even though he sent his son to rescue us for eternity, like Dave he must suffer through the pain we all experience, but it’s far worse. Dave had a small external indicator of what is happening inside of people. God knows everything and there is no comfortable living room where he can escape. Our pain is his all the time.
It is so easy to forget the burden that God must bear as he watches his precious creation. I’m sure there are many moments of absolute delight as he sees his children flourish and come to him. But he also sees our denial of his teachings. The chronic pain conditions, the depression, the divorces and all the other sources of suffering that are present in this world. While we all debate if God permits, causes, or has nothing to do with suffering, he is experiencing it all.
God sees the suffering of his people and has compassion multiple times in the Old Testament. What I hope to convey in small measure here is what is often overlooked: God sees the suffering. I wonder at what cost to our glorious God is his intimate knowledge of every person on earth. Dave understandably retreated from even a whisper of this while God sees it all. Maybe the next time we want to blame God for the suffering we experience we should remember that God is suffering with us. Not just with you or me but with billions.
I hope you enjoyed this story and the thoughts here at the end. As always, may God be with you this and every day of your faith journey.
Dave
Leave a Reply