Save the Last Bullet for God (23 page)

Detail 2:
The
patient is unaware of his wounds and the severity of his condition.
(Possible Alienation/denial)

* It will be necessary to improve the
security and precautions and make the treatment more
aggressive.

Detail 3:
Spiritualist medium (evil) character has reached dangerous
proportions. Focus on elimination of this character in this week’s
session.

‘Produce Something’: Treatment Results &
Subsequent Observation

* After the elimination of the character
Fatin, the patient gave an unexpected response. The patient has
entered a deep depressive period.

* The patient may have been pushed too much.
Consider slowing the process and observe.

* The patient almost completely shut down
communication (cooperation nearly zero). Eating and drinking have
been completely cut off (catatonic phase transition?). Consider
oral feeding alternatives.

[Note: Delay informing the patient’s brother
and Elif about this sensitive situation and the newly formed
symptoms as much as possible. Avoid any interventions that may
affect the treatment process. Emphasize the “temporary” nature of
the depression and its symptoms.]

Detail 4:
This week, postpone the elimination session, but if the
opportunity arrives, look for an opportunity to eliminate the
character Ender, the indigo boy.

‘Creating Something Together’ Treatment
Notes

* The consultant-surgeon has interfered in
my work. The patient’s condition and treatment is not his
specialty.

* Oktay’s treatment has taken a bad
turn.

* Surgeon questioned the existence of an
organic primary. To appease him , ask for an MRI examination.

[Note: Emergency brain MRI appointment was
scheduled for 19:00. Make sure to receive the results as fast as
possible—at least before the next surgical consultation. Since it
is after working hours, the results will be available the following
morning.]

…..

Detail 5:
After the MR examination filming, the patient’s condition
deteriorated. The patient was taken to his room, and a supportive
treatment process was started. The patient’s physical examination
findings are dire. In the morning, ensure the patient’s transfer
into a general unit capable of internal medicine.

* Due to the possibility of patient
self-harm, leather restraints have been administered.

[Note: Observations during visitation of the
patient:

*The patient seems conscious but engages in
almost no communication.

* Different personalities emerge
alternately, and raucous and incomprehensible speech and lip
movements quickly turn into delusions. Presence of a partial state
of agitation.

* The patient has fixed his eyes on the
drops of liquid flowing through the IV tube and follows them one by
one. He is muttering and trying to say something. (For a moment, he
focused on the serum vial and talked about the image it created and
the magnificence of it (this is only one of the things I was able
to decipher). I have decided to copy the camera recordings to
understand the patient’s fictionalized world and what he said. If
necessary, I will deliver them to the programmer (He has a program
that converts lip movement to text). Nevertheless, this interesting
case can surely be published with the help of such data.)

*The patient’s condition seems stable for
now. I hope it won’t be long before his recovery.

……
.

* We lost the patient. Time of death:
22.12.2012, 03:14.

[Note: A lot of trouble is waiting for me
tomorrow. Will have to come in early to deal with the relatives of
the deceased, to complete his file, and do the morgue delivery
report. It was an unexpected but, unfortunately, inevitable
situation]

[Additonal Note:
Search whether this case still has potential for publication.
(No matter what happened, we were able to eliminate at least three
of the personalities during the treatment. Ironically, when the
patient died, all split personalities were eliminated as well.
Radical treatment!). I’m tired, I’m exhausted, and I’m talking
nonsense; now get some rest!!!!]

……

Detail 6:
Informed Ms. Elif about the death of Oktay this morning
(making her accept the situation was really difficult).

[Additonal Note:
On the morning of December 21, I said to Elif “everyone
undergoes his or her own end, and this was Mr. Oktay’s end.” No
matter the significance of the date, this was an unnecessary and
idiotic thing to say to a patient’s next of kin. (Don’t let the
fatigue and frustration get to you anymore!!!)]

* Life goes on; I filled my files, signed
the documents, and the patient was sent to the morgue to be readied
for his funeral

(Reminder: when cranial MRI report comes,
add it to the file)

[Personal note:
I sent the camera records of the patient’s last night to the
programmer and the programmer sent me back a file. At the first
opportunity, I’ll examine it.]

Detail 6:
A
terrible mistake. [Note: The result of brain MR examination: left
frontal lobe epicanthal, grade III–IV, probably glioblastoma
multiform (high-grade malignant brain tumor)]

[Personal Note: Multiple personality
disorder, schizophrenia? How did I miss the thing before my eyes?
Now that I understand, the patient demonstrated symptoms similar to
that of John Travolta in the movie
Phenomenon
: a man of a middling intelligence and
stature in society suddenly shows intelligence, solves amazing
equations, and makes great discoveries. Sometimes a tumor in the
brain can increase the capacity of function of the brain because it
increases brain blood flow and metabolism. This causes a great flow
of thoughts due to the additional neuronal connections. Still, such
a mistake!

I now feel an obligation to publish a book
about the code and multidimensional plane that Oktay helplessly
described.]

* * *

I Can’t Take
My Words Back

In the calm of the morning, cars whispered
down the streets of the city and sleet blanketed the roads.
Clustered gray clouds gathered in the sky, carrying wind. The
silhouette of the mental hospital could barely be seen through the
high walls of gray-blue pine trees. Along the sidewalk, near the
entrance gate of the hospital, a line of yellow taxis sat idle. The
taxi drivers huddled together in the cold, some smoking and some
reading papers. The driver of the first taxi eyed the gate,
scanning for possible customers. He was middle-aged with a black
moustache and a brown sweater with a clean shirt collar sticking
out from underneath. Bored, he flipped through the radio
channels.

His windshield formed a thin boundary
between the frozen water drops and the gray of the scene beyond. A
hearse was parked a little farther from the hospital gate, drawing
the attention of passersby. ‘
For Official
Use Only’
the sign on the hearse read. Leaning against
the half-open front door of the vehicle, the hearse driver drew on
his cigarette nervously, exhaling bluish clouds of
smoke.

The coffin—decorated with a few silver
ornaments and a dark-green cover with golden-yellow Arabic
texts—was placed in the hearse. The roof prevented the raind from
reaching the coffin, but could not prevent the wind from waving the
thin yellow tufts at the edges of the coffin cover.

A few cars were lined up behind the hearse.
The young woman sitting in the backseat of the first car leaned her
head on the glass and, with red eyes, stared at the pavement near
the hospital entrance.

As a lumbering garbage truck slowly wedged
itself between the convoy, cabs, and hospital gate, and as the taxi
driver watched the traffic jam through his windshield, the door of
the backseat opened and a young customer entered. He had a lot of
files in his hand and a laptop bag. “Good morning,” he said.
“Istanbul University. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“
Don’t worry,” the driver said. “Soon,
the road will be free, and I can take you.” He had already started
the meter. On the radio, the DJ spoke:

“Dear listeners, nonsense about the end of
the world has been occupying the media for a long time now.
Otherwise intelligent people have increased their ratings by
influencing and frightening people who already had irrational
tendencies. They out-talked even us. According to them, the Mayans
foresaw the end of the world thousands of years ago and marked the
end of their calendar. These big men told us that there was an area
in the middle of the Milky Way galaxy from which energy was
spreading. Ordinarily, they said, it couldn’t reach us because of
our position, but on December 21, this energy would arrive at the
correct angle, and when it reached us, we would gain understanding
of all there was to know, thus experiencing a dimensional change.
But the truth is, on this morning, on December 22, we have only
achieved the awareness that those people have been making fools of
us.”

Listening indifferently, the man in the
backseat concentrated on his thoughts, trying to slow himself from
the rush he’d been in. He had spent months investigating the topic
of “social structures affected by a single person.” Finally, he was
done with his thesis, and, if it was approved—if the teachers
didn’t ask for too many changes—he would submit it.

The main idea of his thesis related to an
opinion before articulated in the Foundation series by Isaac
Asimov. Asimov stated that communities could be predictable enough
to formulate what they would do and when they would do it. The
science that examined this phenomenon was called
“sociomathematics.”

This branch of science was so precise that
the behavior of a society could be predicted, hour by hour, with as
much accuracy as the behavior of gas molecules at a certain volume
and pressure. However, as the past demonstrated, one couldn’t
predict what a single person might do. Thus, the influence of an
individual on a society couldn’t be known for sure.

However, knowledge gained through history
had often increased by sudden leaps of social improvement, and
these leaps usually came from the work of one exceptional person.
In other words, there was no need for the seven million people
currently alive to discover relativity and formulate its theory. It
was enough for Albert Einstein to discover it, articulate its
theory, and present it to the public in a way people could
understand and use.

The ability to explain the perceptions of
the occasional, extraordinary discoveries of individuals in this
massive community evaded most people. As such, the radio host was
mistaken in his opinion. For everyone to gain a new social
consciousness, there was no need for everyone to believe the world
would end on December 21, 2012. If it was true that there was an
energy that could reach out to us, then the shift of consciousness
that such knowledge created would be enough, even if it affected
only one person. The only sufficient and necessary obligation of
this person was to clearly convey what he had discovered to the
rest of society.

The garbage truck was now trying to pass
using subtle maneuvers. There were a few frustrated shouts and the
blare of the horn as the voice of the radio host filled in the
background.

“People, get it now! There
is
no doomsday. You still have to go
to work; you’ll still be stuck in the same traffic jam. When the
boss gives you a roasting today, you’ll forget all this nonsense.
Focus on what’s in front of you; that’s my message. Anyway, enough
talk—I would like to read you some lines by Cahit Sıtkı:

And the heart says to its God:

I have no fear of the suffering you give

I willingly give my consent to every
trouble, as long as

The day doesn’t fall away from my
window.

“On this gloomy, cold December
morning, we have a song that will remind you of your emotions and
scatter the clouds in the sky—I know you’ve all missed
Bulutsuzluk Özlemi
singing ‘I Can’t
Take My Words Back.’”

The garbage truck had almost dislodged
itself, and it was about to go furiously on its way. The funeral
convoy began to pull away. As the taxi waited to depart with its
engine idling, the melody of the song filled the car.

I can’t take my words back,

I can’t rewrite what I have written,

I can’t replay what I’ve played,

I can’t turn back again…

If I get tears, don’t let them dry up.

“I can’t take my words back.”

The notes of the song slipped through the
half-open driver’s window like a strand of thin lace. The notes
mingled with the wind and became a caress on the green cover of the
coffin where Oktay lay.

“I can’t rewrite what I’ve written.”

The melody of the song, spread into the
wind, reached the hospital walls, and shook the branches of the
pine trees, as it slipped through the open window on the upper
floor of the hospital. Sitting in front of his computer under raw
fluorescent light, the psychiatrist stared at a half-written
sentence on an otherwise empty screen: “Everything began with a
question...”