A spacious place, and so green, a large pasture with Quonset hut-like structures linked together like a frontier outpost. No fence, no gate, just anonymity, and designed like a military structure because not seen by the unaided eye, most of it lies underground, and tunnels link it all together.
This is or at least was, the major psychiatric facility of the United States of America, and was built to withstand an all-out bomb attack. The front doors to the main unit are wood, hard wood like walnut or oak, and have huge parallel steel bars vertical to the ground set in the wood with steel bolts, so in case of attack, they can be chained shut, and no one can ever leave.
Dr. Whacker is here, and he just aspires to be a general practitioner on the beach and sell psychedelic surf wax on the side. The doctor or Sheldon and Kretchner somatotype welcomes the fifth pathway students to a vacation stay at his life calling; an insane asylum for the criminally insane, that is also open to military personnel shunted in from Walter Reed.
Dark, deep, foreboding, but in New York State, the sun shines on the Statue of Liberty, and the tunnels that link the facilities have fluorescent lights that dim and sparkle when they get old, and the ambiance is southern gothic. After a brief lecture by the head honcho, who got beaten up by a catatonic psychopath, the students retire to their quarters, small prison cells without lights, clustered together and isolated by a big wooden door with the best lock hardware money can buy.
Dr. Wracker is happy; his new domicile has a reading lamp, and the sheets on his futon are clean.
He gets a message from the lead doctor of the inpatient psychiatric facility to come to his office at 0800 military time for orientation, in the main unit he finds the office with a number on the door in metal so it cannot be pried off, and Dr. Wracker notices that the door is reinforced hardwood with metal laminates so it would take a bazooka to breach it should it be locked.
Come in, Wracks says Dr. Lector. My name is Dr. Wracker says the student. Your friends call you Wracks, and so will I, he says. How did you know my nickname is Wracks asks Dr. Wracker. Dr. Lector says that is what your friends call you. I am your friend. The office is a lot bigger than it looks from outside, kind of like a uterus, and a huge walnut desk, with a chair and a huge, powerful reading lamp appear inside. Still dark, quiet, and unassuming, large bell jars filled with yellow formaldehyde stand in his bookcase that occupies the majority of the room. Immaculate books like a library stud the walls, and they look like they have been read several times. In the bell jars are various parts of the human anatomy, pickled and preserved for eternity, and one has a hand inside with a ring still on its finger. Dr. Lector follows wracked eyes and says they are souvenirs from past clinical cases. Wracks, you are assigned to the main unit with me, and another doctor, and the other students will work in the outpatient unit. I don’t think I am up to the competence dealing with patients like these, says Wracks. Your dossier says you are board accredited in Internal Medicine, Am I in error asks Dr. Lector. Yes, I am, says the Wracks. Fine, says Dr. Lector, if you are up to snuff, you will learn in the main unit and live with incurable psychotics. If the law puts someone insane in a cell, they eventually go berserk and kill someone, says Dr. Lector. Here, in the military, the patients spend their day in a rumpus room, watch tv, play ping pong, poker, and the game of life or monopoly. Your job is to sit in the corner, so they can’t get behind you, and observe. Take notes. Get to know the inmates by name. Be sure you have a straight line to the door at all times, and if someone gets rough, run out the door and lock it behind you. Do not let anyone touch your key. Not anyone except me. The reason for observation is to note any side effects of psychiatric medications and alert the pharmacy. They like the professional wrestler guards work until five P.M. and then you are on your own. Observation is key and critical because people presage their actions with behavior, and the way to treat a psychotic is to prescribe medication with an intrinsic side effect opposite to their psychiatric behavior. I will be around, just shout and I will appear. You are here to learn. I will interview you periodically to transfer information from caregivers and modulate treatment protocol for the patients. Do you have any questions? No Dr. Lector. You are dismissed says Dr. Lector. Exit and the door will lock automatically. Enjoy your day.
The Wracks do not know why this place seems so dark and quiet, so quiet. Almost like eternity, and he walks down the hall to the cafeteria, because it is lunch time. Three meals a day and a small box of chocolate milk. The military has all the calories counted for logistical purposes. The patients are all there, sitting at the benches, some of them smiling, He is new someone says, come talk to us. The wracks takes his tray with a processed cheese sandwich and some chips and sits down. A tall patient from another table runs over and steals his chips from his tray. The chocolate milk is mine says Wracks. I think we like you says one of the florid psychotics. I love chocolate milk, thinks the wracks. Back in the hall, a PHILIPPINE doctor in his group screams a bunch of obscenities to no one because no one is there, and no one is listening, except maybe Dr. Lector. The Wracks heads back to the rumpus room, with his key, open the door and enter, and they don’t notice him, they already know he is new.

Office

A spacious place, and so green, a large pasture with Quonset hut-like structures linked together like a frontier outpost. No fence, no gate, just anonymity, and designed like a military structure because not seen by the unaided eye, most of it lies underground, and tunnels link it all together.
This is or at least was, the major psychiatric facility of the United States of America, and was built to withstand an all-out bomb attack. The front doors to the main unit are wood, hard wood like walnut or oak, and have huge parallel steel bars vertical to the ground set in the wood with steel bolts, so in case of attack, they can be chained shut, and no one can ever leave.
Dr. Whacker is here, and he just aspires to be a general practitioner on the beach and sell psychedelic surf wax on the side. The doctor or Sheldon and Kretchner somatotype welcomes the fifth pathway students to a vacation stay at his life calling; an insane asylum for the criminally insane, that is also open to military personnel shunted in from Walter Reed.
Dark, deep, foreboding, but in New York State, the sun shines on the Statue of Liberty, and the tunnels that link the facilities have fluorescent lights that dim and sparkle when they get old, and the ambiance is southern gothic. After a brief lecture by the head honcho, who got beaten up by a catatonic psychopath, the students retire to their quarters, small prison cells without lights, clustered together and isolated by a big wooden door with the best lock hardware money can buy.
Dr. Wracker is happy; his new domicile has a reading lamp, and the sheets on his futon are clean.
He gets a message from the lead doctor of the inpatient psychiatric facility to come to his office at 0800 military time for orientation, in the main unit he finds the office with a number on the door in metal so it cannot be pried off, and Dr. Wracker notices that the door is reinforced hardwood with metal laminates so it would take a bazooka to breach it should it be locked.
Come in, Wracks says Dr. Lector. My name is Dr. Wracker says the student. Your friends call you Wracks, and so will I, he says. How did you know my nickname is Wracks asks Dr. Wracker. Dr. Lector says that is what your friends call you. I am your friend. The office is a lot bigger than it looks from outside, kind of like a uterus, and a huge walnut desk, with a chair and a huge, powerful reading lamp appear inside. Still dark, quiet, and unassuming, large bell jars filled with yellow formaldehyde stand in his bookcase that occupies the majority of the room. Immaculate books like a library stud the walls, and they look like they have been read several times. In the bell jars are various parts of the human anatomy, pickled and preserved for eternity, and one has a hand inside with a ring still on its finger. Dr. Lector follows wracked eyes and says they are souvenirs from past clinical cases. Wracks, you are assigned to the main unit with me, and another doctor, and the other students will work in the outpatient unit. I don’t think I am up to the competence dealing with patients like these, says Wracks. Your dossier says you are board accredited in Internal Medicine, Am I in error asks Dr. Lector. Yes, I am, says the Wracks. Fine, says Dr. Lector, if you are up to snuff, you will learn in the main unit and live with incurable psychotics. If the law puts someone insane in a cell, they eventually go berserk and kill someone, says Dr. Lector. Here, in the military, the patients spend their day in a rumpus room, watch tv, play ping pong, poker, and the game of life or monopoly. Your job is to sit in the corner, so they can’t get behind you, and observe. Take notes. Get to know the inmates by name. Be sure you have a straight line to the door at all times, and if someone gets rough, run out the door and lock it behind you. Do not let anyone touch your key. Not anyone except me. The reason for observation is to note any side effects of psychiatric medications and alert the pharmacy. They like the professional wrestler guards work until five P.M. and then you are on your own. Observation is key and critical because people presage their actions with behavior, and the way to treat a psychotic is to prescribe medication with an intrinsic side effect opposite to their psychiatric behavior. I will be around, just shout and I will appear. You are here to learn. I will interview you periodically to transfer information from caregivers and modulate treatment protocol for the patients. Do you have any questions? No Dr. Lector. You are dismissed says Dr. Lector. Exit and the door will lock automatically. Enjoy your day.
The Wracks do not know why this place seems so dark and quiet, so quiet. Almost like eternity, and he walks down the hall to the cafeteria, because it is lunch time. Three meals a day and a small box of chocolate milk. The military has all the calories counted for logistical purposes. The patients are all there, sitting at the benches, some of them smiling, He is new someone says, come talk to us. The wracks takes his tray with a processed cheese sandwich and some chips and sits down. A tall patient from another table runs over and steals his chips from his tray. The chocolate milk is mine says Wracks. I think we like you says one of the florid psychotics. I love chocolate milk, thinks the wracks. Back in the hall, a PHILIPPINE doctor in his group screams a bunch of obscenities to no one because no one is there, and no one is listening, except maybe Dr. Lector. The Wracks heads back to the rumpus room, with his key, open the door and enter, and they don’t notice him, they already know he is new.