Page 66 of Perfect Chemistry

“It’s called dissociative identity. Basically, the brain tries to protect the original by creating someone else to do the dirty work,” she explained and then changed the subject.

“I started a pilot program a few years back to help service members with traumatic brain injuries and PTSD. The intent was to provide access to the various treatments and therapies they needed to thrive outside of the military. What I found was that many of the patients presented signs of dissociation. It’s why I took this assignment, in fact.

“I have a new pilot program that I would like you to participate in. You have all the hallmark indicators of dissociation. You have compartmentalized your traumas so much that you don’t even know what you have really been through,” she said.

“I don’t have that,” I said, shaking my head.

“Ok. What was the last thing you remember in my office before waking on the floor?”

“You were asking me about all of the dates. When Ty died. When his funeral happened. When I went back to work,” I responded.

She smiled sadly at me. “Gunny, I never asked you any of those questions. I record every patient complaint interview that I take. I briefed you about the consent process for that recording and then asked for your statement. Do you remember any of this?”

I shook my head. “No.”

She leaned down and pulled up a laptop from a bag on the floor. “We’re going to watch this together, and if it gets too scary, you can squeeze my hand. Ok?”

There I was in her office. Pacing. Swearing. Threatening. Pleading.

“When? When did-” I tried to ask, starting to choke up watching myself become more and more unhinged.

“This is Katie you are protecting, Gunny. She’s suffering and you are shielding her from everything,” she explained to me. “I can’t see a marine suffering and not help. It’s not how I was wired. I want to help this young woman, but I need you to let me in.

“Can you do that, Gunny? Can you trust me enough to let me help her?” she asked, pointing to the woman on the screen who had collapsed on the floor before Steven could catch her.

* * *

It’s okay.

“You’re making great progress, Katie. We should be able to discharge you in the next week, at this rate.”

“Call me if you need help, Katie. I’m here for you. This is my card. My name is Kara. You can just call me Doctor G.”

* * *

“Did Steven know about this?” I asked her.

She tipped her head side to side. “He suspected, but you never tipped hard like today so I couldn’t say for certain.”

“We’ve met before, right? Today wasn’t the first time.”

She nodded. “We’ve met before, yes.”

“Did you know Ty, too?” my voice cracked.

Col G bit her lip and nodded.

“Can you help me?” I whispered, afraid to hear rejection.

“If you’ll let me.”

“Okay.”

Colonel Giancolo smiled from ear to ear, tears brimming in her eyes. “Thank you, Gunny. You can stand down now. I got your girl. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Chapter 22

Katie’s Point of View

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