Picard walked into Gleason's office, it was unusually spacious and bright for a medical office, having a great view of San Francisco Bay through a large glass wall. He could only see it out of one eye, as the light was blinding in his other eye, and worsened the stabbing pain he'd been feeling from that eye all day enough to make him dizzy and nauseous.
"Computer, tint windows 90%." Gleason said, and the room automatically became more tolerable for Picard.
"Thank you." He said hesitantly, remembering what Crusher said about Gleason being a Betazoid.
"Can you lie down and let me get a look at your eye?"
"Crusher mentioned you were a Betazoid, so you may already know what's wrong."
"Not only is it causing you a lot of pain, but your pupil isn't dilating. How long has it been a problem?"
"Since I woke up from surgery. Whenever the anesthetic wore off."
"What anesthetic?"
"Crusher has been giving me an anesthetic in my optic nerve since I got out of surgery the first time. She finished the last surgery that was supposed to fully restore my vision this morning."
Knowing Crusher was far too competent to ignore something like this, he asked "What did Crusher say about this?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen her since."
Gleason nodded, "Let me take a look. At a minimum I can block the pain for you."
"Won't that affect my vision?"
"No. Your vision won't be affected at all. The largest risk is that you won't feel pain from something else injuring your eye."
Picard paused, "How?"
"Neural pathway manipulation. Disconnect your optic nerve from the pain center of your brain."
"Can't you use neural pathway manipulation to change someone's thought process to force them to do or believe something?"
"That's illegal and highly unethical, but hypothetically possible, yes. Starfleet wants me to examine you to ensure no one else has done something like that to you. I am expert in the technique, it has lots of useful medical applications, curing some forms of paralysis and loss of function after a head injury, blocking pain signals, and repairing various other neurological disorders. Something as simple as blocking the pain signals from your eye is both safe and effective, I assure you. It can be done in minutes."
He didn't want anyone messing around inside his head, especially anyone other than Beverly, but the pain was bad enough to convince him to allow it. He nodded in agreement.
"Here, lie down." Gleason said. Picard did as he was asked, and Gleason placed an object on his head that quickly rendered him unconscious for the procedure.
Gleason called Crusher after scanning Picard and realizing the severity of the problem. While he had been wondering how she could miss something like this, the answer was obvious the moment she beamed down. He could sense she was exhausted, and shaken. There were deep bags under her eyes and her lab coat was spotted in blood and bodily fluids. "Are you alright?"
She looked at him for a moment realizing how pointless it would be to lie. "A group of patients we've been treating for radiation poisoning took a turn for the worse this morning. I lost two of them over the last few hours, including a four year old. Have you ever lost a patient to radiation poisoning?" Gleason shook his head, "Significant and distributed internal bleeding, and attempting tissue regeneration only makes things worse. I hate feeling that helpless."
"I'm so sorry."
"What happened here?" She asked, seeing Picard unconscious on the table. "I thought this was supposed to be routine."
"His intracranial pressure is elevated and he's running a fever. When he came in the pupil in his right eye wouldn't dilate, and the light from the window was causing him severe pain." Sensing her recognition he asked, "You recognize that?" She nodded.
"Did you read his medical file?"
"Only the summary, and your most recent reports. I was going to look this up but I figured I should call you first."
"Thank you." She said, suddenly much more alert.
"I promise it won't leave this room, but is it possible he underwent CNS DNA resequencing?" Gleason asked.
"Yes. Why?" She answered, seeming oddly calm considering she was admitting a serious crime.
"Are you familiar with delayed acute neural pathway enhancement rejection?"
She paused to think about it, and he could tell she wasn't familiar with it. "I don't think so."
"I'm not surprised, given the Federation has been half suppressing information on it. It's an extremely rare delayed complication of accelerated critical neural pathway formation, usually caused by a viral infection, tumor, or other third invasive genetic pattern being introduced to the brain later in life. The immune system starts recognizing the genetically altered tissue as foreign, and the result is almost always fatal within 24 to 96 hours untreated. Since accelerated critical neural pathway formation is illegal, there hasn't been much research on it or awareness of it. It's mostly treated with immunosuppressants and trying to revert the altered genetic code."
"I said he was genetically engineered, not genetically enhanced. Are you familiar with Shalaft's syndrome?"
"I've heard of it, but I don't know about the details."
"It's an extremely rare monogenic pediatric neurodegenerative disease. It causes consistently worsening sensitivity to light and sound. In the later stages of the disease, even a whisper will cause patients severe pain. It's rare for patients to survive to adulthood untreated, and the few patients who do survive end up effectively blind, deaf, in constant pain, and severely epileptic."
"If it's monogenic, it should be preventable and curable." Gleason said.
"It is. He was treated for it using CNS DNA resequencing when he was four." Crusher replied. "Reverting the genetic correction isn't an option. Even if it worked properly the original disease would be severely debilitating and likely fatal."
"Do you know why they didn't do a full genetic correction? And why was it treated so late? Don't they test for and cure that kind of thing during pregnancy?"
"His parents were odd. They didn't have a genetic screening and waited until he was symptomatic to have him treated for it. By the time he was treated, it made much more sense to repair only the affected cells. Medically the procedure is nearly identical to accelerated critical neural pathway formation, even if they're treated differently legally. The complications are likely the same. Is one of the symptoms of neural pathway rejection a loss or reduction in the improvement the original procedure created?"
"Yes, along with severe headaches and fever."
"You said the light from the window was causing him severe pain, and his pupil wouldn't dilate?"
"Yes."
"Those are symptoms of the genetic disorder he was cured of."
Gleason shook his head in silence not sure what to say as he loaded a hypospray. "60ccs Polycordilin. It will slow the progress of the disease."
Crusher nodded. "Do you have a neural pathway genetic resequencer?"
"I have a neural pathway genetic reverter, but resequencers are strictly regulated. You need committee approval for its use, and that takes 24 hours to a week. I'll run a deep tissue scan and do a blood test and a biopsy to find the extent of the damage. If we need a resequencer, I'll call someone and see how quickly we can get access to a resequencer. How extensive was the correction?"
"Everything affected by neuropeptide XC91."
"So far it seems only one of his eyes is affected, and that's a good sign. It means we still may be able to stabilize this with the genetic correction intact."
After looking at instruments for the test results Gleason said, "This is still in an early enough stage we should be able to reverse it if we can stabilize the genetic correction immediately. I'll go make some calls and see if we can get emergency access to a resequencer."
Gleason opened his communication terminal. "Admiral Bennet please."
When he appeared on the screen, he said "Dr. Gleason, what can I do for you?"
"I need immediate access to a neural pathway genetic resequencer."
"Why?"
"To save the life of a patient who was injured at Wolf 359, who is in a very early stage of delayed acute neural pathway enhancement rejection."
"We can call an emergency meeting tomorrow to discuss this." Bennet said.
"It can't wait that long. For the best chance of success I need it within the hour."
"Did it occur to you that maybe the patient in question should have considered the possibility of such complications before undergoing an illegal genetic engineering procedure?"
Crusher walked into the frame behind Gleason, "The procedure wasn't illegal."
"What are you talking about? Genetically accelerated critical neural pathway formation is categorically illegal, and this is a possible complication of it."
"Genetic engineering is legal to treat pediatric neurodegenerative diseases, and the genetic engineering procedure performed here was a neuro-genetic correction to treat a life threatening pediatric neurodegenerative disease."
"Why wasn't that corrected in-utero then?"
"His parents never ran the standard genetic screening, and didn't have him treated for it until he was symptomatic, by which time doing a partial genetic correction, using the same technique typically used for illegal genetic enhancement, was the best option."
"If it was done legally wouldn't a complication like this be much less likely?"
"Not this." Gleason replied. "This has nothing to do with the skill of the original surgeon, it's a rare complication of infection or injury occurring later in life."
"I have no strong objection, but Toddman might."
"There isn't a single case Toddman hasn't objected to yet." Gleason replied, "That's part of why I called you first."
Bennett nodded, "Alright we'll call him together."
A moment later Toddman, a tall white male human in a gold uniform, appeared on the screen as a split screen with Bennet. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He said entering the call.
"I need immediate access to a neural pathway genetic resequencer." Gleason said.
Toddman laughed. "This can wait until our next meeting."
"No, it can't." Gleason replied, "My patient could easily be dead by then, or have suffered irreversible neurological damage."
"How?"
"They were severely injured at Wolf 359, and it interfered with a genetic correction they had done as a child to treat a pediatric neurodegenerative disease."
"The best I can do is schedule an emergency meeting tomorrow to discuss this issue."
"We don't have time for that. This needs to be done immediately."
"That's not my concern." He said, "It's not our place to play god."
"Play God?" Gleason asked, incredulous, "You mean practice modern medicine? Have you ever seen a child with pediatric neurodegenerative disorder? Unfortunately they aren't all curable. I can't imagine what would possess someone to object to curing a child of disease that would otherwise cause them to wither away and die slowly before they have the chance to grow up. We should be grateful so many such disorders are curable today, not complain about the methods used to cure them."
"If the only way to cure them is to defile their DNA, maybe it would be better to let nature take its course?"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Crusher asked. "Are you so opposed to Eugenics as practiced in the third world war, that you want to practice it like they did in the second world war?"
"No one knew how to genetically manipulate anything in the second world war."
"No, they just decided to try to improve the gene pool by murdering everyone they thought was genetically defective, including the disabled and sexual and religious minorities. You're literally advocating killing children because of genetic defects."
"I'm not advocating killing anyone, I'm just advocating we let nature take its course."
Crusher rolled her eyes, "Refusing lifesaving medical care for congenital diseases is its own form of eugenics that's no less despicable than what Khan did. I can't believe we're still discussing this. Genetic engineering has been legal to treat serious genetic diseases for over a century now."
"Alright everyone, calm down." Bennett said. "Assuming the original procedure was legal, I don't see what possible harm could come from granting emergency access to repair a related injury."
"How do we know the original procedure was legal?" Toddman asked. "If they bring proof of the original authorization to the next meeting we'll discuss it."
"I don't see how the original legality of the procedure matters at all here. We have a patient who could die or suffer irreversible harm if they don't get treatment immediately. The legality of a procedure performed decades ago has nothing to do with this."
"You want to discuss this at the next scheduled meeting? Be my guest. I don't have time for this bullshit." Crusher said, closing the communication terminal.
"We do need something from them." Gleason said.
"No we don't." Crusher answered, "How do you think I'd handle this weeks away from the nearest starbase?" Gleason looked at her not knowing the answer, "If you need a tool you don't have, you make it."
"Make it? How?"
"A genetic reverter is the same instrument with only software differences, and I have one in sickbay. The modifications to use it as a resequencer shouldn't take long."
"Do you trust your engineering skills enough to perform such a modification? And wouldn't it be illegal for anyone else to make such a modification for us?"
"There are plenty of highly qualified engineers on the Enterprise who can make the modifications we need, and who would be happy to do it to save Picard's life, no matter the consequences."
"Aren't you concerned people will ask questions if you requisition a new one?"
Crusher paused for a moment surprised at the question. "I guess I left it in the storage locker that was recently exposed to space, or maybe in the one that caught fire while the Borg were shooting at us." She paused, "My equipment gets destroyed all the time, and no one questions my requestion requests."
"Alright." Gleason said, a bit hesitant.
"Come with me back to the Enterprise?" Crusher asked. Gleason nodded in agreement.
Crusher walked over to Picard and tapped her com badge, "Crusher to Enterprise, three to beam directly to sickbay."
"Acknowledged." She heard from O'Brian.
"Energize." She said and they disappeared to materialized in the Enterprise sickbay, in the position they'd been in before, with Picard materializing on a biobed.
"You have wanted to do that for a long time haven't you?" Gleason said.
"Do what? Have the Enterprise beam me away from a bunch of political drama at Starfleet medical?" Crusher asked.
"Yes." Gleason replied.
"I have. I occasionally used to fantasize about it on bad days." Crusher answered.
Crusher then tapped her com badge and said, "Crusher to Data."
"Data here."
"Can you come to sickbay to help me modify some equipment? It's urgent."
"Of course Doctor, I'm on my way." He answered.
After calling Data, Crusher turned to Gleason and whispered, "It's a shame we haven't found a cure for asshole yet." Gleason cracked up laughing. Speaking in a normal tone, she said "In all seriousness, have you sent that guy for a psych exam?"
"He ended up on the committee to represent the fervently anti-genetic engineering crowd. Thanks to him nothing useful gets done unanimously except rejections. He tried to have me arrested for illegal genetic engineering for saving a six year old's life, after someone else botched an illegal genetic engineering procedure so badly they nearly killed her, and I had to complete some of what they were trying to do to stabilize her."
"I heard what happened. Sorry I couldn't be there for that."
"All you're thinking is how glad you were to have been half way across the galaxy with a day's communication delay then."
Crusher blushed, "It's not that I didn't want to be able to help you, but crap like that is what makes me happy to be back on the Enterprise. I like being a doctor, not playing politics constantly."
"I understand." Gleason replied.
"Were you recording that call? I intend to file a formal complaint against him with internal affairs."
"I wasn't, but there are three witnesses."
She nodded, and stepped into a store room to get the neural genetic revertor.
As she walked out of the store room with the reverter in hand, she found Data waiting for her. "How can I help you doctor?"
She handed him the instrument, "Can you reprogram this as a genetic resequencer?"
"Why?" Data asked, pausing as he looked at it, "Dr. Soong spent a long time on my ethical subroutines regarding DNA resequencing procedures, after his experiments in genetics. I need to know what you intend to use it for."
"I need it to save Picard's life." Crusher replied, "I cannot share details without violating doctor patient confidentiality. I can tell you the procedure I need to perform is legal, but waiting to go through proper channels could kill the captain or cause irreversible brain damage. Assuming we do this correctly, you can ask him if he wants to talk about it later, but for now I need you to trust me."
Data paused to think about that for a moment, "I do trust you doctor. How quickly do you need it?"
"As quickly as possible."
"Do you need to be able to arbitrarily manipulate the code, or is there a single genetic sequence you need it to create?"
"Being able to switch between the original sequence and one other is all I need."
"Alright. If you get me both sequences I can hard code them and give you the ability to switch between the two. I can have it ready for you in 10 minutes."
"Thank you, Data." Crusher said preparing a PADD with both sequences and handing it to him.
"This is a very minor change." Data said looking at the PADD.
"It is." Crusher replied.
"A small error in the genetic code of certain critical neurotransmitters is enough to cause significant damage to a human brain." Gleason said.
"I understand Doctor." Data replied as he sat down to get to work on the alterations Crusher requested.
As Data started working, Crusher asked, "Data, wasn't Soong one of the early pioneers in genetic medicine?"
"He was. His experiments in genetic engineering nearly started intargalactic eugenics war and cost him his life. The first Enterprise saved him and stopped it."
Crusher nodded, "Now that's a story I'd like to hear in more detail."
"I believe commander Riker has a related holo program if you're interested."
"Exactly how much do you know about genetic engineering?" Crusher asked.
"Quite possibly more than you. Once Soong decided he could trust my ethical programming he uploaded all of his journals on genetic engineering into my positronic net, including many that are still banned by the Federation."
"Data, do you know anything about delayed acute neural pathway enhancement rejection?" Gleason asked.
"I do not. Accelerated neural pathway development was created after Soong left the field. His only interest in it was based on its relevance to creating artificial life. Nothing in his journals relates to potential biological complications."
After a pause, while Data worked silently, Gleason turned to Crusher, "My husband's students are performing The Tempest if you would like to come. I'm sure they'd be honored to have the Enterprise crew in the audience."
"Is he still teaching classical literature at UC Berkeley?" Crusher asked.
"Yes. He's teaching a class in historical performance styles this semester as well. He's even started to take to the new holotheater they put in."
"I recall him saying something about manually changing the set being an insufficiently respected part of the art last time we spoke."
"Yes. He'd started warming to the new system when he realized he could program it to recreate the theaters where these shows were originally performed, along with time period appropriate sets, including moving everything manually for historical accuracy."
Crusher smiled and nodded. "Picard would love to see that. He's a big Shakespeare fan and history buff. I'm sure he'd love to see Shakespeare's play performed in a historically accurate recreation of the original theater. Are they using the holotheater to recreate the original theater for the performance or are they using it to create the set?"
"It depends on the day. Some of the performances are in a recreation of the original theater and others are using modern technology to create the set. The days they're performing in a recreation of the original theater are less popular, and we should have no trouble finding space for everyone who wants to come."
"We could certainly use the R&R." Crusher said.
"Doctors, I've finished the modification you requested." Data said to Crusher and Gleason, then he began to show them how to operate the modified device.
As Data was showing them how the modified device functioned, Gleason's com badge chirped. It was Admiral Bennet. "Is your patient going to be alright?"
"Yes." Gleason replied.
"You weren't answering your communication terminal."
"I'm on the Enterprise with Crusher."
"Did you get the equipment you need?"
Reading Crusher's thoughts, he replied, "I'm not at liberty to discuss anything regarding a specific patient's care. This is no longer a committee matter."
"Understood." He replied. "I'm sorry about Toddman's behavior. It was out of line."
Crusher replied, "I'll be filing a formal complaint tomorrow. I would appreciate your endorsement of it, or at minimum your corroboration of what he said."
"I'll consider it." He answered. "You weren't exactly on your best behavior either."
"I had a four year old die in my arms a few hours ago. I haven't even had time to remove their blood from my uniform, and Toddman seems to think I shouldn't be allowed to do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. The law was changed over a century ago for good reason, because letting children die of curable diseases due to our fear of genetic engineering was unconscionable. If Toddman has a problem with that change in the law, he needs to go pound sand."
"I'll take that into account, Doctor. Bennet out."
When Picard woke up he realized it was dark outside even though the last thing he remembered was early afternoon, and he was only supposed to be unconscious for minutes.
"Jean-Luc, how do you feel?" Dr. Crusher asked. She hadn't been there earlier either, but her presence put him at ease.
"How long was I out?" He asked.
"Nine hours." She answered. "You've been on the Enterprise most of that time, we just beamed back down because we needed to consult with an immunologist and some of Gleason's instruments are more sensitive than mine, so it was preferable to run the final tests here before waking you."
"I thought you said it would take minutes?" He said to Gleason, who was standing further away by his desk holding a coffee cup.
"That was before I realized the extent of the problem. I noticed a third genetic pattern in your optic nerve and visual cortex, it seems your original genetic pattern some of the neural tissue reverted to is defective. I called Crusher because I wanted someone more familiar with your medical history to assist me in repairing the damage."
"What do you mean defective?"
"A gene required to synthesize a neurotransmitter critical for modulating your sensitivity to light and sound is miscoded." Gleason said, sipping his coffee. "The genetic defect known to cause Shalaft's syndrome."
"I'm familiar with it." Picard said.
"Do you remember being treated for it?" Gleason asked. Picard nodded hesitantly. "You would have been a year younger than I was when I started developing telepathically, and I remember that quite clearly."
"I barely remember it." Picard replied. "I thought Betazods didn't develop telepathic abilities until adolescence?"
"We're supposed to. Juvenile telepathy is considered a disorder among my people. It's often accompanied by psychological and neurological problems as well."
"Why was I in surgery so long?" Picard asked.
"When Gleason examined you, he found an issue with your immune system properly recognizing the corrected tissue, likely caused while it was removing the Borg alterations. If it hadn't been treated immediately it would have caused a life threatening autoimmune reaction." Dr. Crusher said. "Why didn't you say anything about the pain and extreme light sensitivity earlier?"
"Alyssa woke me. I mentioned it to her, but she told me it should pass in the next 15 minutes to an hour."
"But it didn't pass, did it?" Crusher asked.
"It only got worse." Picard admitted.
"Alyssa doesn't know your medical history, I would have recognized that instantly. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Where were you when I woke up?"
Crusher paused, not sure if he was ready to know how bad things were, but she decided it was time to start telling him more of what had happened. "I lost two patients to severe radiation poisoning this morning. We were barely able to save another three."
"I'm sorry." He replied, expressing sympathy mixed with guilt. "I was right not to bother you."
"It's not your fault, Jean-Luc, but you were wrong not to bother me. This could have killed you or left you permanently disabled if it hadn't been treated in time. I'm just glad Gleason examined you before it caused any permanent damage."
"So what have you been doing to my head for the last nine hours?"
"We completely redid the selective genetic correction in your right eye, and recoded most of your brain to the correct genetic sequence repairing or removing all of the tissue the Borg altered, and correcting the genetic sequence anywhere it incorrectly reverted to the original instead of the corrected sequence. We also managed to re-modulate your immune system to recognize both your original and corrected DNA sequences." Gleason said.
"I'm going to need to monitor you closely over the next few days to make sure there are no further complications." Crusher said, "How is your vision?"
"Much better."
"Do you still have a headache?" Crusher asked.
"Yes, but nowhere near as bad as it was earlier."
"That's normal after a surgery like this." Gleason said. "For the next thirty six hours you should stay somewhere it's reasonably dim, avoid focusing your eyes, don't read or watch anything, and get lots of rest."
***
Dr. Crusher walked into Gleason's office, and quickly noticed the look of concern on his face. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?"
"A cappuccino would be great."
"Here, sit." He said pulling out a chair for her.
She could tell from his demeanor and the look on his face he was going to tell her something she didn't want to hear. "You found something?" She asked.
He nodded and turned his laptop to show her a picture of the brain scan results, with a small section highlighted. "Have you seen this before?"
She shook her head, "You think it will affect his cognitive processes?"
"No, or at least not for a long time. I'm far more concerned about the fatality rate with a defect like that."
"What?" Crusher asked, half shocked.
Noticing her response, he asked "Are you in love with him?"
"We're not in a relationship. It would be unprofessional for both of us. We've been close friends for a long time. I care for him deeply."
He nodded, acknowledging she hadn't answered the question. "The good news is the time scale we're looking at."
"How long?"
"20 to 40 years. There's an 8% probability he'll suffer any ill effect from it within 20 years. After that the prognosis gets much worse. There's a 50% fatality rate over 30 years, and even if it isn't fatal, there's a 20% chance he'll be symptomatic from it. Over 40 years the fatality rate is 93%. Since he's already in his 60s, that puts him towards the lower end of a normal human lifespan."
"The lower half of that estimate is quite concerning. Is there anything we can do about it?"
"Avoid any further brain trauma. Every additional head injury will accelerate this. Beyond that, the best we can do is hope our medical technology improves before this becomes fatal."
"If there's nothing we can do about it, should we tell him?"
"That's up to you." Gleason replied. "I believe he said he's happy with you making medical decisions for him that would usually be up to the next of kin."
"I don't see the point, especially considering his current mental state. If anything he'd be more likely to take unacceptable risks with his own life if he knew he was going to die relatively young anyway. Do you think this is related to what's causing the headaches?"
"Both were caused by the same thing, but the headaches should get better over time. That's just a neural potential imbalance and causing irritation in micro-inflammation in cerebral vasculature and neural tissue. Compared to the scans you did earlier, it's improving slowly. Up his dose of trianoline and keep using pain killers as needed. I'd expect that to resolve itself slowly over the next six to eight weeks."
Crusher nodded, "That's what I had expected. You think he'll be ready to go back to work once I get him off the quadtriptonal?"
"How is getting him off it going?"
"Not well. I tried using nigtrozine instead the night before last, and he woke up vomiting from stress two hours later."
"Withdrawal?"
"No. That's why I put him on it in the first place."
"Is there a family history of mental illness?"
Crusher nodded. "His mother died of an untreated schizoaffective disorder. It was diagnosed during the autopsy after her suicide when he was 10."
"That's curable. How?"
Crusher shook her "I don't know. He doesn't talk about his family much at all. According to the medical record, he was removed from his parent's care twice, and allowed to apply to Starfleet academy at 16 over his father's objection with permission from children's services. From my understanding he never visited or spoke to his family again until his brother's wedding 17 years ago, not even to go to his father's funeral, and he hasn't seen them since. His parents avoided most technology including modern medicine."
Gleason shook his head. "But there was still an autopsy?"
"In the course of the homicide investigation, yes. Her death was ruled a suicide after the autopsy report."
"I presume he was screened for it?"
"Of course. All the screening tests were negative. He scored in the top 10% for emotional stability on his Starfleet psychological profile. His psych review has only been flagged once, which is far less often than most Starfleet officers, and that was immediately after my husband's death for survivor's guilt."
"Your husband...?" Gleason asked, wondering about the connection.
"Was his first officer and best friend, who was killed in the line of duty under his command. We had a toddler at the time."
"If he's prone to survivor's guilt, no wonder he's having so much trouble with this. A family mental health history like that can increase the long term risks associated with severe brain trauma, and it can complicate stabilizing his neurochemistry especially in combination with this level of psychological trauma."
"I know. I was starting to suspect a relation when he attempted suicide after claiming to hear voices, but none of the readings matched. The bridge confirmed the things he thought he was hearing were detectable on sensors and he was showing elevated T-neuropeptides, consistent with telepathic communication."
"Have you tried switching him from trianoline to sepronal? Trianoline is known to be hallucinogenic and that may not be helpful."
Crusher nodded, "Sepronal is heavily sedating and that can hide symptoms of complications more easily. While it's as effective at keeping intracranial pressure stable with constant monitoring, it's less effective in triage situations because you'll notice a problem later."
"Are you still in triage mode?"
"How do you think I missed that yesterday? I'm just starting to get out of triage mode now. It may not be a bad time to switch him to Sepronal, especially since he needs to rest to recover from surgery."
"After the surgery yesterday, I don't see anything physically wrong that should affect his ability to perform his duties in the near term. I wouldn't even worry about the quadtriptonal now, as long as he isn't on duty within ten hours of taking it, I don't see the problem. I think getting him back on light duty in four to five days depending on how his recovery progresses makes sense. He needs structure to start putting this behind him, I'd start with something like 3 hours a day 4 days a week, increasing gradually as he recovers."