The preliminary screening was by direct interaction with a computer; later I was placed in a machine I took to be a whole-body scanner; after further more detailed X-raying of specific pants of my body--my head, my lower back, my left forearm and my chest-- I was briefly interviewed by a doctor, then told to dress and return to my chalet.
Seri had left to fluid an hotel, and there was no sign of Lareen. I sat on my bed in the cabin, reflecting on the psychological factors in hospitals, in which the removal of the patient's clothing is only the first step of many by which he is reduced to an animated slab of meat. In this condition, individuality is suppressed for the greaten glory of symptoms, the former presumably interfering with the appreciation of the latter.
I read my manuscript for a while, to remind me of who I was, but then I was interrupted by the arrival of Lareen Dobey and the man who had interviewed me, Doctor Corrob. Lareen smiled wanly at me, and went to sit in the chain by the desk.
I stood up, sensing something.
"Mrs. Dobey tells me you are in doubt as to whether or not you will accept the treatment," Connob said.
"That's night. But I wanted to hear what you had to say."
"My advice is that you should accept the treatment without delay. Your life is in great danger without it."
I glanced at Lareen, but she was looking away. "What's wrong with me?"
"We have detected an anomaly in one of the main blood vessels leading to your brain. It's called a cenebro-vascular aneurysm. It's a weakness in the wall of the vessel, and it could burst at any time."
"You're making it up!"
"Why do you think that?" Corrob at least looked surprised.
"You're trying to frighten me into having the treatment."
Corrob said: "I'm only telling you what we've diagnosed. I'm retained by the Lotterie as a consultant. What I'm telling you is that you have a serious condition, which if left unattended will certainly kill you."
"But why has this never been found before?"
"Perhaps you have not been examined recently. We know that when you were a child you suffered a kidney condition. Although this was dealt with at the time, it has left you with a higher than average blood pressure. You also admit to a drinking. habit."
"Just a normal amount!" I said.
"In your case the normal amount should be none at all, if you cane for your health. You say you are a regular drinker, taking the equivalent of a bottle of wine a day. In your condition this is extremely foolish."
Again I looked at Lareen, and now she was watching me.
"This is crazy!" I said to her. "I'm not ill!"
"That isn't really for you to decide," Corrob said. "According to the results from the cerebral angiognam, you are a very sick man." He stood with his hand on the door, as if anxious to leave. "Of course, the decision is yours, but my advice is that you should take the treatment immediately."
"Would that cure this?"
Corrob said: "Your counsellor will explain."
"And there's no danger?"
"No . . . the treatment is perfectly safe."
"Then that settles it," I said. "If you're sure--"
Corrob was holding a small file I had thought must he the case notes on a patient; now I realized it must be on me. He passed it to Lareen. "Mr.
Sinclair should he admitted to the athanasia unit immediately. How much time do you require for the rehabilitation profile?"
"At least another day, perhaps two."
"Sinclair is to be given priority. The aneurysm is a severe one. There's no question that we can allow an attack to happen while he's in the clinic. If he tries to cause delays, he must he off the island tonight."
"I'll clear him by this evening."
All this had been said as if I were not there. Corrob turned back to me.
"You must take no solids after four this afternoon," he said. "If you're thirsty, you may drink water or light fruit juice. But no alcohol. Mrs Dobey will visit you in the morning, and then you'll be admitted for the treatment.
Do you understand?"
"Yes, but I want to know--"
"Mrs Dobey will explain what will happen." He went through the door, and closed it quickly behind him. He left a whirling air space.
I sat on my bed, ignoring Lareen. I accepted what the doctor had said, even though I continued to feel as well as even. There was something about the medical manner, the way a symptom was made to be inferior to the doctor's knowledge. I remembered visiting my G.P. a few years before, complaining of blocked sinuses. After examining me he had discovered that I had been sleeping in a centrally heated bedroom, and, worse, I had been using a proprietary brand of decongestant nose drops. Suddenly, the sinusitis was the consequence of my own misdeeds, I was to blame. I left the surgery that day feeling guilty and humbled. Now, with the departure of Corrob, I felt that I was again guilty in some way of inflicting a weakened blood vessel on myself. I had been a patient as a child, I was a drinker when an adult. For the first time in my life I felt defensive about drinking, felt the need to deny on explain or justify.
It must have been something to do with the clinic's own defensiveness; the staff, acutely conscious of the controvery surrounding the treatment, made the recipients a party to the system. The willing were inducted smoothly and conspiratorially; the unwilling or the reluctant were psychologically manipulated then medically intimidated.
I wished Seri were with me, and I wondered how long she would be gone. I wanted the chance to be a human being again: perhaps go for a walk with her, or make love, on just sit around doing nothing.
Lareen closed the file she had been reading. "How do you feel, Peter?"
"How do you think I feel?"
"I'm sorry . . . there's no satisfaction for me in the computer being right. If it's any consolation, at least we can do something for you here. If you were still at home, it probably wouldn't have been diagnosed."
"I can still hardly believe it." Outside, a man was mowing the lawn; in the distance I could see a part of Collago Town, and behind it the headland by the harbour. I moved away from the window by the bed, and went to sit with Lareen. "The doctor said you would explain the treatment."
"For the aneurysm?"
"Yes, and the athanasia."
"Tomorrow you'll go in for conventional surgery on the diseased artery.
What the surgeon will probably do is implant a temporary by-pass until the artery regenerates itself. This should happen quite quickhr."
"What do you mean by regenerate?" I said.
"You'll be given a number of hormonal and enzymal injections. These stimulate cell replication in parts of the body where it doesn't normally take place, such as the brain. In other parts, the enzymes control replication, preventing malignancies and keeping your organs in good condition. After the treatment, in other words, your body will constantly renew itself."
"I've heard that I have to have a check-up every year," I said.
"No, but you can if you wish. What the surgeons will also do is implant a number of microprocessor monitors. These can be checked at any of the Lotterie's offices, and if anything is going wrong you will he given advice on what to do. In some cases you can be ne-admitted here."
"Lareen, either the treatment is permanent, or it isn't."
"It's permanent, but in a particular way. All we can do here is prevent organic decay. For instance, do you smoke?"
"No. I used to."
"Suppose you were to start again. You could smoke as many cigarettes as you wished, and you would never develop lung cancer. That's definite. But you could still contract bronchitis or emphysema, and carbon monoxide would put a strain on your heart. The treatment won't prevent you from being killed in a road accident, and it won't stop you drowning, and you can still get hernias and chilblains, and you can still break your neck. We can stop the body degenerating, and we can help you build immunity to infections, but if you abuse yourself you can still find ways of causing damage."