The Brain-Jacked Chronicles
The Too Successful Experiment
By Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2004
Part 2
The anesthetic they gave me to relax was beginning to
do its work. I was having a difficult time focusing. I strained to listen to
what the doctor was saying. He seemed to be addressing the audience watching
from above.
Dr. Wright caressed the electric saw as he turned to
face the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues…” He paused and
nodded at one individual before saying, “…senator. And of course members of
the media. You media guys, please remember the non-disclosure agreement you
signed before being admitted. You are here to document these proceedings, but
nothing can be released to the public without permission from either Dr. Gordon
or myself.” He scanned the faces of those silent watchers behind the glass. “All
right. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
He then walked over towards me, stopped a few feet
away, then pointed. “This should be in your information packets, but for the record,
Subject One is a forty-seven year old male who this morning was in a horrendous
traffic accident. His body suffered such extensive damage that it is unlikely
he will survive through the night. Amazingly, his head suffered no damage at
all. The subject volunteered for this experimental procedure after being
informed of the nature of his injuries and the highly experimental nature of
this procedure.”
I zoned for a moment and when I could focus again, Dr.
Wright was standing in front of the other operating bed. “Subject Two is a
fifteen year old female who died suddenly this morning due to a brain aneurism.
In a written directive, the subject volunteered her body to scientific
research. Her parents agreed with the directive and the hospital notified us
and kept her body alive to be used in this procedure. The parents were not
notified of the procedure as they signed off all rights to the body not long
after she was declared brain-dead.”
A fifteen year old girl?! What the hell? They want
to put my brain into a girl’s body? That was insane! I tried to move, trying
to raise myself up. I wanted to shout, but the trach hose stuck in my throat
prevented any sound.
Dr. Wright saw me move, interrupted what he was saying
and pointed at me. “Why isn’t this subject sedated?” He pointed to an
anesthesiologist and said, “I want full sedation on that subject now. Why
hasn’t that happened already?”
There was a muffled “Sorry doctor!” as the
anesthesiologist disappeared from my view.
Dr. Wright continued, “We are first going to carefully
peel the scalp and face back on Subject Two and then we’re going to remove the
top half of the skull in three sections. Due to the added complexities we must
move the eyes and the inner ears along with the brain. After the brain has
been removed from Subject Two, we then remove Subject One’s brain in much the
same manner, though with less care of the scalp and face. We then transfer the
brain to this beaker with this special fluid we developed to help the brain survive
during the time it will take to reconnect blood vessels. Without the fluid
treatment, the brain would die as it takes longer than three minutes to perform
the transfer. Once blood flow is re-established, Dr. Gordon will begin his
procedure to connect the transferred brain to Subject Two’s spinal column.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hand inject a
syringe into the heplock on my hand and an odd taste formed in my mouth and
then nothing…
* * *
I awoke briefly, horrified. I don’t think the
anesthetic was supposed to wear off yet, but I could suddenly see. Everything
was in a murky, green tint. I couldn’t blink or close my eyes. There was no
sound. I could make out the doctors working over the girl’s body. Then I
realized, oh my God, my brain was in the solution in the beaker! I couldn’t
move my eyes, but I saw my lifeless body being removed from the room. You can’t
imagine a more terrifying sight than seeing your own body dead and knowing it’s
probably all over for you. One of the doctors came over to the beaker (which
had all kinds of wires and hoses attached) and appeared to adjust some
controls. I lost consciousness again.
* * *
I slowly became aware of a tingling all over my body,
the same feeling you have when a hand or foot goes “to sleep.” There were
strange, muffled sounds. Is this what death was like, I wondered? Slowly the
sounds became more distinct. I couldn’t open my eyes. As the sounds started
to sound more like voices, it meant just one thing. I was alive!
I couldn’t move a muscle though. No matter how hard I
tried, I was frozen in one position. Finally, I found I could move my head
slightly from side to side and it felt like a few other parts jerked around,
but I couldn’t tell if it was arms or legs or what that moved.
As the fog continued to lift from my mind, I slowly
started to remember just what my situation was. My brain had been moved to
another body. A girl’s body. I started to feel really creeped out. I tried
not to think about that…just tried to be thankful I was still alive.
Then suddenly a very close, female voice said quite
clearly, “Call Drs. Gordon and Wright. She’s coming around.” I tried to
speak, but couldn’t. I tried to rise up, but nothing would move.
An odd silence descended around me. I could hear
sounds of feet moving and things being moved around, but no talking. It seemed
forever that I just laid there in silence.
“Mr. Shepherd. This is Dr. Gordon.” said a male voice
that seemed to be right next to my ear. “You are in the recovery room. If you
can understand me, please try to move something, anything.” I tried to move
everything. I’m not sure if anything did as I still felt numb.
“Excellent, sir. Your hearing seems to be working at
least at some functional level. That’s a very tricky part of the surgery as
well. Now, I need you to concentrate, very, very hard on this. Try to wiggle
only your right foot. No, not your whole body, just your right foot.
Concentrate very hard.”
I was concentrating, dammit! Let’s transplant your
brain bucko and see how you like it! I tried to visual my right foot.
Concentrate only on it.
A female voice from my other side said, “It’s starting
to move a little, Doctor. The right foot is moving.”
“Very good, Mr. Shepherd! You’re doing it! What
you’re doing is reforming all those mental connections that are required to
move various muscle groups. Basically, you’re going to have to retrain your
brain to move your new body. You’ll have a physical therapist work with you
daily until you have full control. We’ll have to test your vision later. We
have your head all wrapped up for, well obvious reasons. Congratulations, Mr.
Shepherd. You made history today.”
The doctor then began discussing something to someone
else in the room in a voice too low for me to hear. I heard something about
giving me something to help me sleep and something about moving me. I heard a
step near me then the doctor’s voice again, “We’re going to put you in ICU for
at least one day for observation. If everything looks good, we’ll move you to
another room and you’ll begin your physical therapy.”
Time has never passed so slowly in my life. I had no
idea where I was, or whether it was day or night. The numbness in my body
slowly wore off and I could start to feel things like temperature or when a
sheet was pulled over my legs. I couldn’t tell much about how the girl’s body
felt. When I slept, I had nightmares about being trapped inside a glass jar
stuck on a shelf or that I was forever haunted by the ghost of a teenage girl.
Then, I woke up and I could sense that I was in a
different room. It was quiet for one thing. The ICU was a noisy place, but
all I could hear now was the monitoring equipment. I think I was alone.
A great deal of time passed before I heard the door to
my room open. From the sound of the shoes, I guessed a woman, and someone not
a nurse was approaching.
I heard a chair pull up beside me. A woman’s voice
said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Shepherd. My name is Nancy and I’m the clinical
psychologist assigned to your case. I, along with your physical therapist, am
going to help you become accustomed to your new body and to help you learn how
to make it work. You should be very proud of yourself for being involved in
such ground-breaking surgery.”
I heard her rustle through some papers for a few
moments. “Now Mr. Shepherd, the first order of business, and I know it’s
going to be one you’re not going to like at first, will be how the staff
addresses you and interacts with you. To get you started on re-entering
society once the doctors are through with you, I have instructed all staff and
supervisory personnel to address you only as ‘Miss’ or ‘Miss. Shepherd’ and of
course, to use only female pronouns. This is a very necessary step as every
one you meet will relate to you only as a female.”
Oh, ain’t that just peachy. I’d been trying, but I
hadn’t mastered speech yet. I don’t think I’d even managed to open and close
my mouth yet.
It sounded like Nancy stood up as she said, “I’m going to bring the nurse
in here so she can remove the bandages from your eyes. I think the therapy
will go much faster if you can see. I believe Dr. Gordon is waiting outside
your room and is anxious to see you make progress.” I heard her open the door
and could just hear her say, “Cathy, Dr. Gordon, I think we’re ready to remove
the bandages now.”
A different female voice cheerfully said, “Hi Miss
Shepherd! I’m Cathy and I’m your nurse this afternoon. I’m going to remove
those nasty old bandages from over your eyes. We’re still going to leave your
head mostly wrapped though.”
A man’s voice suddenly spoke, “Good afternoon, Miss
Shepherd. I’m Dr. Gordon. If you remember, I’m the surgeon that performed the
procedure. Once we’ve established that you can see, the nurse and I are going
to help you into a wheelchair and take you around the hospital and if you’re
not too tired, maybe even take you outside for bit.”
I was already getting tired of hearing them call me
“Miss Shepherd”. I understood why they were doing it, but I still didn’t like
it. I still had trouble accepting the fact that I was now inside a teen girl.
The whole idea sounded impossible, but I couldn’t deny that I was still alive
and I could feel the bed sheets lying across my two legs – two legs that
weren’t there before the surgery.
Cathy said, “OK hon. I know you can move your head
around some, but right now I need you to be as still as you can. I’m going to
clip the bandages from around your eyes. There’re layers of padding over your
eyes and we’re going to remove them slowly so your eyes can adjust to the light.”
I heard the sound of scissors snipping away and then I felt some pressure on my
eyes.
I started to sense a little bit of light. Then I
could sense a little bit more. After a minute or two, even though I had my
eyes closed, I could see quite a bit of light coming through my eyelids.
Cathy said, “OK miss. Try to open your eyes. Try to
do it slowly if possible.”
Dr. Gordon said, “You shouldn’t have any trouble with
your eyes themselves. They came along with your brain. But you’re going to
have to focus your mind very hard on opening your eyelids, force your mind to
reconnect those pathways.”
I struggled for what seemed several minutes. Finally,
I saw a sliver of light as my eyelids finally cracked open just bit.
Concentrating, my eyelids slowly opened up. The light was quite bright and I
started to blink rapidly.
Dr. Gordon sounded excited as he said, “Excellent! Excellent.”
There was suddenly a flashlight shining in each eye and Dr. Gordon continued,
“Good, good. Normal response.” He paused for a second then said, “Nurse.
Help me move Miss Shepherd into this wheelchair.”
I tried to focus my eyes around the room. All I saw
were blurry images. I felt my body being moved around and I felt like I was in
a sitting position. I couldn’t tell from looking as my eyes still weren’t
focusing. The doctor went to the door to call for additional help. As I sat
there, my vision cleared enough to where I could see who I assumed was Nancy since
she obviously wasn’t a nurse.
I was surprised, she was actually quite pretty, a
woman only in her late twenties. She noticed me looking at her and she
smiled. “Your vision is clearing I see. That’s very good. I think now we’ll
start making more progress.”
* * *
I sat in the wheelchair much like a sack of potatoes.
I was surprised that Dr. Gordon pushed the wheelchair himself. I would have
thought doctors were above that, but I guess he’s taking he’s taking a bigger
personal interest than most doctors. Nancy walked beside me and I heard Cathy the nurse
somewhere behind me.
I discovered it had been a week since the transplant.
I had thought it had only been two or three days.
I was rolled outside. It looked like late afternoon.
I just sat there and marveled at the clouds floating across the sky. After
staring Death down, I’ll never take simple pleasures like watching clouds for
granted again. I took in a deep breath to get a lungful of fresh, unfiltered
air and immediately began a long coughing spasm.
After a few minutes outside Dr. Gordon said, “We’d
better get back to your room. I don’t want to tire you out on your first trip
outside.” As we entered the lobby, Dr. Gordon stopped and said to the nurse,
“Wait here. I need to ask Dr. Wilkins something.” He bent down and locked the
wheels, then walked towards the desk where the little old ladies who volunteer
to work at the hospital sit. Looking at the old ladies gave me a sudden
thought. Becoming a little old lady, should I live that long, was now my
future.
Dr. Wilkins turned to greet Dr. Gordon. “Frank!
How’s it going? How’s your…patient doing?”
“Oh, she’s doing great.” said Dr. Gordon as he looked
back towards me. “I’ll bet she’s walking in no time. In fact, I…”
“There he is!” called a man’s voice from behind me.
“There’s that Dr. Wilkins. Come on Marge.” A couple in their mid-forties or
so hurried past me. A look of annoyance on both doctors faces as the couple
walked up to Dr. Wilkins.
“Dr. Wilkins, we need to talk to you!” said the man in
an agitated voice.
“Of course Mr…ah…Bowers. What can I do for you?”
“You said that in organ donor programs, anything not
used will be returned to us for burial. We’ve held off the funeral of our
precious daughter waiting for you to return at least some part of her so we can
have a funeral. You can image what this is doing to my wife!”
Looking around the hospital lobby, obviously
embarrassed, Dr. Wilkins said, “Sir, this really isn’t the place for this
discussion. Let’s go to my office and…”
“No, I want to know now! Do we get anything back or
do we bury an empty box?” growled Mr. Bowers in a loud, angry voice. “My wife
has cried every day for a week.”
Exasperated, Dr. Wilkins said, “Mr. Bowers, the only part
of your daughter that wasn’t used is her brain. It’s in a specimen jar in the
Histology Lab awaiting further examination.” Dr. Gordon backed away from Dr.
Wilkins and walked back towards me.
The woman started crying. Mr. Bowers, looking
dismayed said, “All you have is her brain? That’s it?”
It suddenly dawned on me that these were the parents
of the girl whose body I now inhabited. A chill went down my spine. My face
was still mostly covered, so they had no idea there were just fifteen feet from
their daughter’s body. It made me feel creepy.
Dr. Wilkins nodded. “Yes. Your daughter was an organ
donor, plus her written directive that anything be used for the advancement of
medical science. You should be proud of your daughter. I know that the loss
of a child is the hardest thing any parent can face. I know nothing can take
away the pain of your loss, but you can take at least some solace in the
knowledge that your daughter has opened the door to literally millions of
people who are currently paralyzed due to spinal cord injuries. Without her
noble act, this would not have been possible.”
Mr. Bowers paused, but his anger didn’t subside. “I’m
glad some good came from this, but we want her…brain…back. And we want it
now. I don’t want any of your bureaucratic bullshit!”
As his anger grew, I could see several hospital staff
members starting to converge to the area. I heard some woman’s voice from the
side say “Call security.”
Dr. Wilkins said, “Now Mr. Bowers, that goes against
hospital policy. You signed all the release forms and …”
“Did you not hear me? Cut the crap, we want our
daughter back!” the man nearly shouted.
“This is highly irregular!” said Dr. Wilkins. “But,
since you have changed your mind about donating her organs, and I understand
your need for closure, I will make all the necessary arrangements to transfer
any of your daughter’s unused organs to the funeral home you designate.”
“We want her now. I don’t trust you.” Mr. Bowers
scowled.
Taken aback, Dr. Wilkins said, “Now that sir,
we absolutely cannot do.” Dr. Wilkins leaned close to Mr. Bowers and though he
whispered, I was close enough to hear, “Think of the affect on your wife, sir,
seeing something like that.”
Mr. Bowers calmed down and looked at his wife. He
said, “That will be fine.”
Cathy said from behind me, “I think this is a good
time to leave.” I found myself being rolled towards the elevators. Dr. Gordon
remained behind.
* * *
Days went by as I slowly progressed learning how to
control my muscles. I could wiggle my toes and fingers. At least twice a day
two physical therapy guys would come in and hold me up as they walked me around
the room. I hated it. I hated that two people had to hold me up. It made me
work harder to force my muscles to work.
As I was moved around, I started noticing things about
my body. The shift in weight on my chest as I sat up or lay down was taking
some getting used to.
It was after a walking session and they were moving me
back into my bed. The catheter caught on something and the sudden jerk in my
privates hurt like hell. “Ow! Stop!” I said in a slightly scruffy female
voice. Everyone froze and looked at me. It was the first words I’d said since
just before the accident.
Nancy pulled
out her cell phone as she said, “I need to call Dr. Gordon!” Her phone beeped
as she punched the buttons. A moment later she said, “Doctor! You must come
at once! She spoke!” Another pause, then, “Yes, yes! I’m sure. OK, I will,
doctor. Bye.”
Nancy
practically bounced over to me she was so giddy. “Miss Shepherd, you spoke! Can
you try to speak again?”
I struggled for a moment, then slowly said, “I...I
think so.” The voice sounded so alien to me.
Nancy beamed.
“You go, girl!”
* * *
“Sam! Hey, great news. I just got a call from Nancy.
The girl talked. She actually talked!” Frank Gordon said as he entered Sam
Wright’s office in a rush.
Sam turned in his chair to face his colleague.
“Talking is pretty complex. What did the subject say?”
Frank shrugged. “Not much. It tired her out. She
fell asleep almost immediately according to Nancy.”
Sam rose from his seat and shook Frank’s hand.
“That’s certainly more than we expected. I really thought death would have
occurred before getting to speech.”
Frank looked annoyed. “I think I have the rejection
problem licked. It’d better be licked or we won’t even be able to use this
method for spinal cord injuries.”
“Well, let’s keep our fingers crossed the subject will
at least beat the old record of three weeks and four days.” Sam said as he sat
back down. “That was chimp number three, wasn’t it?”
With agitation in his voice, Frank said, “Sam, we’re
not talking about chimps or rats here. We’re talking about a girl. Why do you
keep calling her ‘subject’?”
Sam just sat for a moment, staring at Frank. “What
are you talking about? That’s not a girl out there. It’s little more than an
animated cadaver with the brain of a forty-seven year old man in its head. I
fully expected the subject to be dead by now, living just long enough to prove
that that kind of spinal cord surgery is possible. What do you plan on doing
with it if it lives? Take it out for dinner and a movie? Adopt it? I mean
what?”
“You seem to want her to die!” gasped Frank. “She’s
the most exciting, the most promising advancement in medical science since…well,
since medicine itself!”
Sam smirked, “Yes Frank, you’re an abso-fucking-lutely
brilliant surgeon. They’re going to be talking about you in medical circles
for the next hundred years. But what are they going to be saying?”
“You’re making this sound like something sinister. I
thought you and I were partners on this whole research project?” said Frank in
a puzzled tone.
“We are. But I’m not the hopeless romantic you seem
to be. You better hope that toy of yours dies. When it dies, you’ll come out
of this looking like the hero who tried desperately to save a life. But hey,
even though the experiment was a failure, we at least got out of it a way to
treat millions of sufferers of spinal cord and other related injuries.” said
Sam with little emotion.
“That’s pretty low, even for a life-long cynic like
you.” Frank scolded. “Sorry, but I’m going to do everything in my power to
keep that girl alive!”
* * *
The End of Part 2
since 08/16/04