The Renfield Syndrome by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 22

Writing out the prescription, Doctor Sinclaire handed it to Caspian, who in turn gave it to Reuben.

“So,” he began. “Let’s try this and see how things go.”

Caspian was not accustomed to dealing with doctors and, hearing these words, became doubtful of whether the medication would work at all. “What do you mean ‘see how things go’?” he asked.

Not many of the doctor’s patients ask these questions because they have been led to simply do as they are told, believing on some level that medicine is an absolute science.

“That’s a good question,” the doctor said. “Not many people ask questions when it comes to their health. The truth is, Caspian, that medicine is not an exact science, and everybody is different. What works for one person doesn’t work well for someone else. Now, this drug is pretty well tolerated, and a lot of the people I prescribe it to do pretty well, but if there are any issues with this in the way of side effects, just let me know, okay?” Caspian nodded with some discomfort, not knowing what to expect from a medication that was essentially an antipsychotic. But he had one more question.

“Will I be on this for the rest of my life?”

Doctor Sinclaire sat back and formulated an answer that would satisfy Caspian’s curiosity. He had every right to ask questions, and the doctor bore the responsibility of answering them. But doctors don’t usually care for their patients questioning their treatment. They prefer that their instructions be followed to the letter.

Stopping at a pharmacy on the way home, Reuben paid for the medication that Caspian would likely be on for the rest of his life. But no solution is perfect, and the one thing that people are cautioned about is side effects, and some are life-threatening. On their way home, Caspian opened the box of medication. Along with the bottle was a lengthy sheet of thin printed paper containing every detail of the medication he was about to begin. He decided to put off reading it as the print was too small to read without proper lighting.

“Should I take one now?” he asked. The instructions for how to take the medication were on the bottle, printed on an adhesive label.

‘Take one before bed.’

What Doctor Sinclaire had not told Caspian was that this was a small starting dose, and in a couple of weeks he would raise the dose if Caspian’s condition was showing any degree of improvement. If not, the doctor would consider a different drug. It might still be an atypical antipsychotic, but even though they are of the same class, they are still chemically different enough that one would work when another had not.