A Love With Limits

Chapter 3: Finding Answers

A week had passed since Dr. Caroline Vízková started her first shift at Bainbridge Hospital in the heart of NYC. Today was a late Friday night, and she was sitting in the dark, save for a little burning candle on her desk, almost burnt down entirely, partially melted onto the wooden table. She was desperately trying to arrange the heap of documents which had piled up over the past 7 days, and she hadn't eaten much, she simply never made time for it, and she had failed to pick up the phone from her family multiple times. All she had was a couple cups of coffee a day, and if she finally made time for real food, she might've eaten a croissant from the bakery. She was tired, eyes shutting every 5 minutes, but Caroline wanted to solve the mystery of the illnesses that were attacking these innocent patients, writing down all of her finds - but this was a huge task, and she was slowly losing hope. It wasn't as simple as diagnosing pneumonia or any other common disease, and she knew this, but making a change was a goal that she wanted to reach, no matter the cost. She knew by now that this was caused by some sort of infection to the brain, otherwise known as encephalitis. Not all was lost, however, as the doctor had actually made one massive discovery already, and it was potentially just what she needed to have a medical breakthrough, potentially changing hundreds of lives. Over the past week, she had noticed that even the most catatonic patients actually reacted to certain stimuli - in other words, she had discovered that a surprising amount of patients could react to things such as familiar music, catching a ball that's being thrown at them, and being touched by someone that they're close to, e.g. a family member. She had to use these finds for something.

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Earlier that week, she had attended a lecture on a groundbreaking drug that had worked wonders on patients suffering from Parkinsons disease, and ever since, Dr. Vízková had been behind the aforementioned desk, researching the drug by the name "L-Dopa". Although this drug had only ever been used on patients with Parkinsons, this could potentially work on Dr. Vízková's patients, as they have many of the same symptoms. They could possibly regain their speech, and the movement in their body, something they desperately needed to live a normal life. Caroline knew how risky this was, especially if they reacted negatively to the drug - but the prospect of changing the lives of these suffering human beings trumped all of her fears. While it was certainly true that she wanted to save all of the patients at the hospital, she could not lie to herself about her true intentions. She had been thinking about Leonard Lowe every night since she met him, thinking about those eyes that still had a tinge of life left in them, a small percentage of hope. So as much as she would like to deny it, she wanted to give the drug to Leonard more than anyone, because she wanted him to be happy, as he was perhaps one of the patients that were struggling the most. She could only begin to imagine how lovely his smile would be, even if she had never seen him smiling. The past week she had spent quite a lot of time with Leonard, trying to find ways to communicate with him. Leo, unfortunately, hadn't really reacted to any stimuli like the other patients - he couldn't catch a ball, he didn't really react to any familiar music. Hell, he didn't even react to his own mother, which only broke the old lady's heart even more, and this was another motivator for Dr. Vízková, as she couldn't bear to see Ms. Lowe in such a depressing state. The doctor had even been home to the patients mother, wanting to understand Leo's past, something that could help her research. There were pictures of Leonard all over her house, but only of him as a little boy before all the tragedy. It was certainly understandable that Ms. Lowe didn't want to keep any photos of her boy in a statue-like state. She visited Leonard's childhood bedroom, where he had spent a lot of nights in a catatonic state, and her heart had sunk. Nobody deserved this, she thought, not even her worst enemy. Something that had surprised the young doctor, however, was that Leonard could communicate via something called a Ouiji board, usually used to contact spirits or ghosts. This was very puzzling, as he hadn't reacted to any other stimulants, so how come he could speak with a Ouiji board? Of course, she did not know the answer, but it had put a smile on her face, being able to communicate in some way with the patient she found so utterly mezmerising and fascinating, medically and personally. She leaned back in her chair, and ran her delicate fingers through her hair, and shut her eyes. She began to recall the small conversation she had with Leonard, if you could even call it that...

*5 days earlier*...

Dr. Vízková had sat Leonard down on a chair in the sleeping hall at the hospital, right in front of a table. It was in the middle of the night, and all the other patients were fast asleep in the darkened room, some of them making faint noises in their slumber. Today she had brought a Ouiji board with her - she knew it looked strange, bringing such a thing with her to work, especially in this environment. Her co-workers had asked her about it, shaking their heads at her odd idea. However, it wasn't because she had plans to talk to any ghosts: She wanted to find out if she could possibly break through to Leonard and actually get him to speak, albeit in an unusual way. The young doctor put a chair behind Leonard, and sat as close to him as possible, chin directly on his shoulder, making her shiver slightly. She could smell his cologne, definitely not something he had chosen himself for obvious reasons, but it was nice, a sweet smell. She felt his stubble touch the side of her face, and feeling the warmth from his skin made her relax into her chair. She carefully placed her arms around him, grabbing his arms and thoughtfully lifted them onto the board, thereafter grabbing his hands and placing them on the planchette along with her own. His hands were much bigger than hers - but they were warm and comforting, and his skin was soft from the lotion which was applied to his hands daily. 

"Okay, Leonard. If you're able to understand me, please move the pointer over to "L" for Leonard. Whenever you're ready..." Leonards hand slowly started to move, barely with the help of the doctor, and Caroline's heart started racing - this was a big start. His fingers, as planned, moved over to the "L", and it seemed to be going smoothly to begin with. However, Leonard seemed to have other ideas on his mind, as his hands slowly moved towards the "R", and Caroline was perplexed by this.

"Alright... Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough. My fault, Leonard." 

But his hands kept moving at their own will, moving from R to I, then to L and K, and then to the E. "Dyslexia..." Dr. Vízková muttered under her breath, but after a while she realized that Leonard perhaps wasn't dyslexic - he was spelling something else. She quickly took out a pen from her white coat, and started writing down the words he was spelling onto her sleeve; this might be important information, she thought, as she scribbled away. Going back to her dimly lit office, coffee in hand, she examined the words on the cloth. "RILKE, PANTHER". What did this mean? She thought perhaps this could be the name of someone, so she hurried over to the filing cabinet to find out who this was. The doctor flicked through the papers with an intensity that she rarely displayed, and after a while, she stumbled upon exactly what she needed - a paper with the name "Rainer Maria Rilke" on it, along with a description: "German poet and fiction writer; 1875-1926; Collected Poems tr. fr. German by William Smith". Dr. Vízková furrowed her eyebrows, as she had never heard of this person before, and she certainly couldn't figure out what the correlation was between this poet and Leonard. 

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Another week had passed, and Dr. Vízková was sat in a zoo, on a bench in front of an enclosure with a huge panther inside. She had a poem in hand, a poem from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke, and decided that perhaps this was exactly what Leonard had wanted her to do. Read this poem, while watching the panther. It didn't make sense now, but she was hoping that it would make sense as she started to read.

"His gaze

From staring through the bars

Has grown so weary

That it can take in nothing more

For him,

It is as though

There were a thousand bars

And behind those thousand bars

No world

As he paces in cramped circles

Over and over

His powerful strides

Are like a ritual dance

Around a center

Where a great will stands paralyzed 

At times,

The curtains of the eye

Lift without a sound

And a shape enters

Slips through the tightened silence

Of the shoulders

Reaches the heart, and dies."

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