PRESENT DAY
No. No.
I take a step back from the chart rack, my stomach sinking. I wanted it to be some kind of mistake, but it isn’t. There’s a reason
the person in 905 looked familiar.
She was my best friend. Jade Carpenter.
It’s a coincidence, but it’s also not. This hospital contains the largest psych ward in the area, and we’re a stone’s throw from the house where Jade grew up and possibly still lives. And let’s face it, Jade had serious problems. She’s surely been bouncing in and out of Ward D since we were sixteen. So really, I shouldn’t be surprised to see her name on the census.
I wonder why she’s here. I know what she did to earn her first admission to a psych unit, but I don’t know why she’s here right now. What did she do this time? It couldn’t be worse than what she did when we were kids.
I could look. Nothing would be stopping me from grabbing her chart and flipping through it to find the answer. Well, it would be morally wrong to do it. And there are probably some legal issues as well, since we were told we’re not supposed to be looking at charts of friends or family members. But it’s not like anyone would ever find out.
I don’t even have to read the whole chart. I could just read the first few pages. Nobody would know.
“Go web!” a voice calls out from behind the nurses’ station.
I jump away from the charts, my face on fire. I feel like I’ve been caught doing something naughty, although it’s not like anyone knew the
thoughts going through my head. And certainly not the man in a slightly crusty Spider-Man T-shirt and sweatpants, standing in front of the nurses’ station, with a white band around his wrist that signifies that he’s a patient and not one of us. As if there was any doubt.
The man is staring down at his wrists, his lips pressed together in concentration. “Go web,” he says again, enunciating each of the two words.
Cameron lays down the chart he had plucked from the rack. “Who’s
that?”
“Him?” Ramona lifts her eyes from a glossy photograph of the do’s and don’ts of fashion. “Oh, that’s Daniel Ludwig. But we all call him Spider- Dan.” Her lips twitch slightly. “Because he thinks he’s Spider-Man.”
Dan Ludwig stares down at his wrists. “Go web,” he says one more time in a voice that is almost a monotone.
Cameron’s mouth drops open. He turns back to the rack of charts and grabs the one labeled LUDWIG. “Dibs!”
So much for him being a gentleman.
I turn back to the rack to make another selection. I am not going to look at Jade’s chart. That would be really, really wrong. I can’t believe I was even contemplating it. I’ll find another patient to see.
I look at the next chart in the line. Room 906. The name on the chart is SCHOENFELD. I pull it off the rack and read the patient’s full name off of the demographics sheet: William Schoenfeld. Well, I definitely did not go to high school with the guy. And he doesn’t seem to be locked up in seclusion, tied to his bed with restraints. That might be as good as it gets.
I turn the chart to the first page. Most of the information is probably in the electronic medical record that is inaccessible right now, but the chart at least has printed information from the emergency room visit that brought him here a few nights ago. William Schoenfeld is a twenty-nine-year-old man with no past medical history who presented to the emergency room after several months of hearing voices telling him to kill people.
The emergency room note goes on to describe Mr. Schoenfeld as unkempt and confused, frequently mumbling to himself. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia and prescribed a course of antipsychotics. He was then voluntarily transferred to the psychiatric unit for further evaluation and treatment.
That’s when the notes stop.
I stare at the last page of the chart, not sure what to do. Presumably, Mr. Schoenfeld is not dangerous—if he were, he would be locked up like Mr. Sawyer. But on the other hand, this is a man who has been hearing voices telling him to murder people. Maybe this isn’t the patient I want to see.
But in some ways, that’s exactly why I want to see him.
After all, if you meet someone who is truly crazy, that’s the only way to know that you’re sane.
