The song of water spread throughout the four-person hospital room. Barbara, with her eyes closed and a pleasant expression, and Mijin in the next bed, seemed to want to hear more music as they tucked their hair behind their ears.
From the opposite bed, both the lady who was fishing today and the lady who was nodding had momentarily stopped their restless movements and looked at the speaker from which the music flowed.
Hearing the piano's intro and the heavy sound of the bass guitar, Barbara closed her eyes and smiled.
"Hmm... I wonder why? It reminds me of my very early childhood, carefree days playing in the mountains and fields."
Geon smiled and gently touched Barbara's forehead.
"Please rest comfortably, Barbara."
Barbara narrowed her eyes and looked up at Geon.
"Thank you."
In those simple words of thanks, countless emotions were melted. Barbara's gratitude, borne from a lifetime of living, felt different to the gratitude others expressed towards Geon.
Geon, while looking down at Barbara with a warm smile, stole a glance at Mijin. Although she had not yet escaped her gloomy expression, she had stopped crying and was listening to the music. Geon decided to set the music on repeat and stood up.
'I should step out so as not to disturb them.'
As Geon stood up, he saw the lady who had been fishing crouched on the opposite bed now comfortably lying down inside her blanket with her eyes closed.
The nodding lady was blankly staring out the window. As Geon muted his footsteps and approached the door, three nurses who had been peeking through the gap quickly scattered.
As Geon opened the door and sat down at the waiting seat right next to it, the nurses whispered from a distance.
"Is that Kay's new song? It's so different from his previous music."
"Yeah, it feels like New Age music, something mysterious and tranquil, totally different from Fury."
"I like this one better. I only heard a bit of the music through the door, but it made me incredibly happy."
The nurses saw Geon just folding his arms and looking at the floor for about an hour.
Suddenly, looking at his wristwatch, Geon stood up again, went back into the room, grabbed his phone and speaker, and left.
As he closed the door and looked inside the room through the window, he smiled and walked out of the hospital, while the nurses quickly ran to peek inside the room.
One of the nurses, feeling the unusually quiet atmosphere of the room, cautiously opened the door to look inside.
"My goodness..."
Room 403 was a room for female patients with depression, aphasia, insomnia, and schizophrenia. Since everyone had different sleeping times, it was normal for at least one person to be awake even in the middle of the night. But now, all four patients were deeply asleep.
"Was Nurse Lisa in charge of Room 403?"
"Yes, here she comes."
Coming back from assisting a doctor's rounds with a bunch of medical records, Lisa saw the gathered nurses in front of Room 403 and looked puzzled.
"What's going on?"
The nurses quietly closed the room door. They didn't want to wake the patients who had just fallen asleep. The last nurse out held the doorknob and asked.
"Lisa, has there ever been a time when all the patients in Room 403 were asleep at the same time?"
Lisa, feeling the weight of the medical records, put them down on the seat where Geon had been sitting and stretched her back.
"Ugh, phew. Room 403? I don't recall that ever happening, except for Barbara, the others are also being treated for insomnia."
"That's what I thought. I've seen it myself several times during the night shift; at least one of them was always awake."
Lisa tilted her head curiously and asked.
"But why do you ask?"
As the nurses stepped aside and pointed to the room, Lisa looked through the window of the room with a puzzled look.
She was slightly startled and cautiously opened the door and entered the room. The first face she saw was Barbara's.
Although Alzheimer's has no direct relation to insomnia, Barbara usually slept well at night, making it rare for her to nap during morning hours. Lisa noticed Barbara sleeping with a cozy smile.
She then saw Mijin, the most severely insomniac patient, softly snoring in her sleep.
Surprised, Lisa covered her mouth with her hand.
Turning around with wide-open eyes, she saw the other two ladies also sleeping tightly, almost curled up.
Although Mijin was just sleeping expressionlessly, Barbara and the other two patients seemed to be having happy dreams, smiling as they slept.
After watching the patients for a while, Lisa came out, closed the door tightly, and asked seriously.
"Please tell me what happened."
After hearing from the nurses that Geon had been there and that he had played what he claimed was his
new song for about an hour, which resulted in this scene, Lisa looked back into the room through the window again.
"I'll have to report this to the doctor."
"The attending doctor? He might think we're crazy..."
"Still, we are supposed to report any changes in the patients."
"Please don't mention our conversation. I don't want us to be treated as if we're insane..."
"Hehe, don't worry, go back to your duties."
Lisa's eyes hardened as she watched the nurses hurriedly return to their stations.
"Music... The method of treating with music has always existed. Let's start by reporting this."
* * *
The next morning.
Geon, visiting the hospital again today, walked towards the psychiatric ward. Passing through the always noisy wards, he headed towards the fourth floor when he stopped in his tracks.
Seeing more than ten doctors and over twenty nurses standing in front of Room 403, Geon quickened his pace. As he approached, Lisa whispered to a middle-aged doctor standing next to her.
"Here he comes."
The middle-aged doctor, looking at a medical chart, looked up and smiled.
"Kay? Nice to meet you. I'm Larry Wilkins, the head of psychiatry."
Geon looked into the room window and asked.
"What's going on?"
"Haha, there is something indeed. We've been waiting to ask you something."
"Please, go ahead."
"Let's sit down for a moment."
As Larry gestured to the seat Geon had used the day before, they both sat down, surrounded by doctors and nurses. Surrounded by the medical staff, Geon, looking awkward, listened as Larry spoke with a smile.
"There hasn't been an accident, so rest assured. I just have a few questions for you."
"Yes... go ahead."
Larry looked through four medical charts and said.
"I heard that you played what you call a new song here yesterday, is that correct?"
Geon, looking embarrassed, replied in a shrinking voice.
"Ah... so that was it. I'm sorry, I acted on my own without permission."
"Was it intended as a treatment?"
"I'm not a doctor, so it wasn't intended as a treatment. I just played the music a bit longer because Barbara liked it. The other patients just happened to listen along with Barbara."
"I see. Then it's just a visitor playing music for a patient, which shouldn't be a problem."
"Yes... but why..."
Larry still looked at the charts with a serious expression.
"Research on music therapy is still actively ongoing, but the current established treatment involves playing different music for different patients and varying the frequency, not playing the same music for everyone. What happened yesterday is something we just can't understand, which is why I asked."
Larry flipped a chart.
"Name, Barbara Dumas. Age 79. A patient suffering from Alzheimer's who can sleep well listening to music because she doesn't have insomnia. This is understandable."
Larry picked up the next chart.
"Name, Elisha Glass. Age 44. A patient with severe schizophrenia, depression, and insomnia. She's been here for over three years after surviving a shark attack during a family fishing trip that killed everyone else."
He looked at the next chart.
"Name, Courtney Thompson. Age 39. A patient with unresolved symptoms of depression and insomnia, sometimes showing aggressive tendencies, being considered for transfer to a solitary room."
Picking up the last chart, Larry explained.
"Name, Kim Mijin. Age 36. A patient suffering from severe depression, aphasia, and insomnia after losing her daughter in a mafia shootout."
After describing the four patients, Larry looked up at Geon.
"Do you see? All four patients have different cases, reasons, and symptoms. Yet, all showed improvement after listening to your music. It might have been just for a day and could be temporary. Would you like to take a look inside the room?"
Geon, making eye contact with Larry for a moment, stood up and looked through the room window. He saw Barbara's back as she stood by the window, and Elisha peeling an orange she had taken from the fridge and putting pieces into Courtney's mouth, who was diligently chewing despite her expressionless face.
Mijin's position was not visible from outside, but the ward looked more like a regular hospital ward than a psychiatric one, which surprised Geon as he stood speechless for a moment.
As Larry approached Geon, still staring at the room, he said.
"What do you think? Even to a layman's eyes, the improvement is apparent, isn't it?"
Unable to take his eyes off the room, Geon whispered softly.
"Yes, it appears so to my eyes as well."
After a moment of silence, Larry spoke again.
"About that music. I hear it's an unpublished song. When do you plan to release it?"
Geon, pondering for a moment, replied.
"It's meant for a full album
, and it's the first song I've worked on. It will take some time to work on the other songs, probably around this winter, I think."
Larry bit his lip as he looked at the calendar. It was the end of May, and winter was over six months away. After a moment of contemplation, he looked determined and said.
"Kay, there are many people in the world suffering emotionally. They're asking for help, but the world still knows little about mental illness. That's why medical professionals strive every day to provide any possible help to those in agony."
Geon nodded deeply.
"I'm well aware. I believe that doctors and nurses treat patients with that kind of heart."
Larry hesitated with a cautious face and then spoke.
"I know it's unpublished music and might be difficult, but could you possibly help?"
Larry spoke cautiously, waiting for Geon's response. Since the song had not yet been released, using it in the hospital for therapeutic purposes could lead to its leakage before its official release, which neither the musicians nor the company would likely authorize.
However, the doctor's desire to try anything to heal the sick ultimately led him to make an excessive request.
Understanding the cautiousness in Larry's demeanor, Geon contemplated before replying.
"It seems like that's something I can't decide on my own. I'll discuss it with the company."
Since it wasn't a flat refusal, Larry smiled hopefully.
"Of course, you should do that. I'll wait for your response. You came to see Barbara, right? Please go in. Thank you for making time for this, considering how busy you are."
As Larry stood up to leave, he offered a handshake, and Geon, rising as well, shook his hand with an apologetic expression.
"I'm sorry I can't grant your request right away since it's for treatment purposes."
"Haha, no, it's alright. It's enough that you'll consult with the company."
As Larry turned to leave, ten doctors and twenty nurses all simultaneously gave Geon a pleading look.
Geon nodded slightly upon seeing the pleading looks of the healers, and they bowed silently, following Larry who had already left. Geon silently watched their backs as he made a call to Byung-jun.
"Brother, it's me. Can you come to the hospital for a moment?"
"What? Are you really not feeling well?"
"No, it's about the music."
"You're really not sick, right? Alright, I'm out because of Shizuka's schedule, but I'll be there in an hour."
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
After finishing the call with Byung-jun, Geon stood in front of the hospital room, took a deep breath, and opened the door with a wide smile.
"Barbara, I'm here!"
The patients in the room all looked at Geon. Unlike yesterday, when everyone was lost in their own worlds, the patients responded to Geon's presence with bright expressions. Barbara greeted him cheerfully.
"My, you're here again today!"
"Haha, I hope I'm not bothering you by coming too often?"
"Hoho, it's only boring being here every day, so I'm happy when I have visitors. Please sit."
Geon sat down and greeted the patients.
"Hello, Alisha?"
Alisha, who seemed to be always fishing around, stopped peeling an orange and looked at Geon, puzzled about who was calling her name.
"Is the orange good?"
Alisha quietly looked at the orange in her hand, then broke off a piece and offered it to Geon.
Geon, with a beautiful smile, rushed to catch the orange slice in his mouth. Alisha stared blankly at Geon's face.
Although she didn't know who the beautiful young man before her was, she felt strangely familiar with him and offered another slice of orange. Geon, continuously raising his thumb, caught another slice with his mouth.
"Wow, this is really tasty!"
Barbara, not laughing but covering her mouth with a smile, said,
"Hoho, Alisha seems to like you. I've never seen her do that before."
With Alisha continuously feeding him orange slices until his mouth was full, Geon smiled pleasantly.
Finally, after putting the last piece of orange in Geon's mouth, Alisha, with a blank expression, crumpled the orange peel in her hand. Geon then turned his head.
"Courtney, did you sleep well?"
Courtney, who had been sitting on her bed leaning against the wall, had been staring intensely at Geon. Knowing beforehand about her aggressive tendencies, Geon didn't approach but sat on Alisha's bed and started a conversation. Courtney adjusted her position and scrutinized Geon's face.
Though she didn't respond, Geon felt satisfied just by receiving her attentive gaze and then looked at Mijin sitting next to Barbara.
"Did Ms. Mijin also sleep well?"
Geon had caught a glimpse of Mijin looking at him as he entered, but she quickly lowered her head and did not respond to his question. After a moment of sympathetic contemplation, Geon asked again, this time in Korean.
"Ms. Mijin, are you still having a hard time?"
Startled by the sudden use of her native language, Mijin lifted her head to look at Geon. Her eyes widened in surprise. Smiling at her reaction, Geon introduced himself.
"I'm Korean too. My name is Geon Kim."
Mijin, still looking startled, could not take her eyes off Geon as he stood up and placed a mobile phone and speaker next to Barbara's bed.
"Shall
we listen to some music together today?"
Barbara sat up excitedly on the bed.
"Hoho, yes, please. If it's possible, I'd like to hear the same music as yesterday. Oh, what was the name of that song?"
"It's called 'Song of Water,' Barbara."
"Song of Water... Hoho, what a fitting name. It was as comforting as water."
"Haha, thank you."
As Geon connected his phone to the speaker, he suddenly looked up and noticed all the other patients. Alisha, still holding the orange peel, and Courtney, who had been staring intensely at Geon, were now lying down, covered with blankets, seemingly eager to fall asleep while listening to the music.
Seeing the two patients lying down as if they couldn't wait to sleep to the music, Geon laughed brightly.
Mijin was still not taking her eyes off Geon, so he smiled warmly at her and started playing the music.
While everyone except Mijin closed their eyes and surrendered to the music, Geon and Mijin locked eyes.
No words were exchanged between them, but during the continuous playback of the music, Mijin kept looking at Geon until she eventually seemed drowsy and rubbed her eyes.
Finally, as her seated posture collapsed and she buried her face in the pillow, falling asleep, Geon quietly stood up and stepped outside just as Byung-jun arrived in the hallway.
"Brother, you've arrived?"
Byung-jun, with a mix of suspicion and perplexity on his face, scanned the ward as he approached and asked.
"Isn't this the psychiatric ward? Why are you here?"
Geon shared his earlier conversation with Larry, and Byung-jun, looking serious, listened quietly before responding.
"Ah, I see that happened."
"Brother, do you think it's possible?"
After reading Geon's earnest expression, Byung-jun fell into thought. Uncharacteristically contemplative for a long time, Byung-jun eventually stood up.
"Wait, let me talk to the director and I'll be back."
Byung-jun took his phone and moved away. Alone, Geon sat in the waiting area, his eyes anxiously following the busy nurses.
From a distance, nurses who were secretly watching Geon cleared their throats and went about their tasks. Soon, Byung-jun, having finished his call, approached Geon.
"Let's go see the doctor."
Geon, rising awkwardly, asked the suddenly doctor-seeking Byung-jun.
"Why?"
Byung-jun, waving his phone and smiling, said,
"Director Lin said to just do as you please. And since it's obvious you'd be stubborn about it anyway, why bother stopping you? But there are still things we need to promise on the company's behalf, so let's go talk to the doctor."
Cheered by Byung-jun's words, Geon accompanied him to Larry's office. Hearing that Geon and his manager were visiting, Larry rushed out and clenched his fist in joy upon hearing Byung-jun's words.
Byung-jun signed a confidentiality agreement with Larry, and Larry agreed to conduct experimental treatments on patients who did not respond to drug therapy and to write a paper based on that. For the time being, they agreed to conduct a trial on the patients in Room 403 for about a month to see if there were any side effects. Geon, handing over the music files to Larry, smiled brightly as he shook hands with him.
"Thank you so much. It was a tough decision, but please convey my thanks to the company as well."
"No, I'm not sure if it will really help, but I hope it does. Please take good care of it, Doctor."
"Haha, the world is still warm, but... I've been wanting to ask you this for a while..."
"Yes, Doctor."
"Um... I asked Lisa, and she said you and Barbara weren't originally acquainted. You just met by chance on the bench in front of the hospital. What brings you to see her every day?"
"Ah... well... it's not actually Barbara I came to see."
"Really? Not Barbara? Then who is it?"
Geon calmly shared the story of how he had seen Mijin in Chicago, which was news to Byung-jun as well, who asked with wide eyes.
"What kind of connection is that? It's not easy for the lady you saw there to end up in the hospital you're being treated at, but thanks to Barbara, she happened to be admitted to the room you entered?"
Geon, too, nodded as if it were a curious coincidence.
"It's a small world, isn't it?"
Listening quietly, Larry looked deeply at Geon and said,
"Perhaps it's a small miracle meant to fulfill your vow to alleviate Ms. Mijin's sorrow through music. I believe that human wishes have that much power."
Attributing
a miraculous meaning to coincidence, Larry smiled and shook hands again.
"Then, let's start the music therapy. I'll share the process and effects with you."
* * *
Geon, eager to complete the lyrics and finish the song, sent the final version of the 'Song of Water' to Kiska, but unlike other times, Kiska struggled to come up with lyrics and spent over a week just listening to the music without any inspiration.
Lying on the bed, staring at the empty notebook and agonizing over it, Gregory, getting dressed, said,
"Going to visit grandma at the hospital, want to come along?"
Kiska turned her head at Gregory's words and glanced at the empty notebook on the bed before closing it.
"Yeah, I could use some fresh air, I'll come too."
Arriving at the hospital, a 40-minute drive from home, with her father, Kiska parted with Gregory, who had business at the administrative office, and scurried to the VIP room where her grandmother was staying.
Tall and already a young lady, the beautiful Kiska drew the attention of hospital staff, but the young Kiska, eager to see her grandmother, did not notice their gazes and ran to the room.
When she opened the door to her grandmother's single VIP room, her grandmother, sitting up in bed with reading glasses on, greeted her with a smile.
"Oh, my granddaughter is here?"
"Grandmaaa~~"
Having lived together and shared meals for nearly a year, the bond between the two had deepened.
After playing with her grandmother for a while, Kiska sat down on the sofa and opened her empty notebook again, putting on her earphones. Believing that she would be inspired after getting some air and seeing her grandmother, she was frustrated when the lyrics still did not come to her. Kiska took out her earphones, and her grandmother, noticing her mood, asked,
"My granddaughter seems to be worried about something?"
"Yeah, Grandma. It's just work, don't worry. I'm going to the restroom!"
"Alright, be careful not to slip."
As Kiska left the room, she overheard Gregory talking to a doctor.
"How much longer can she live?"
"Ah, the cancer has spread to the liver and kidneys. It will be very painful, so it's not easy to decide whether to continue chemotherapy.
In older patients, we recommend discontinuing chemotherapy and letting them pass comfortably. But even without chemotherapy, it will be very painful.
We're administering daily painkillers, so she may be comfortable now, but once the medication's effects wear off, it will be hard for her to bear the pain, making it difficult to discharge her."
"Ah, I see. Then we have no choice but to keep her hospitalized."
"Indeed. If we want to lessen her pain, that's the only option."
Hearing the doctor and her father's conversation, Kiska's expression darkened. After returning from the restroom, Kiska looked at her grandmother with pity. Her grandmother, having taken off her reading glasses, smiled brightly.
"Come here, my granddaughter."
As Kiska hugged her grandmother and touched her wrinkled hands, she handed over an MP3 player.
"Grandma, want to listen? It's the music I'm involved in."
Perhaps feeling guilty for dismissing her grandmother's interest in her work earlier, Kiska urged her grandmother to listen to the music.
With her interest piqued because it was her granddaughter's work, her grandmother put on the earphones, and Kiska played the 'Song of Water' for her. Nestled in her grandmother's warm embrace, Kiska closed her eyes.
Irina Zarishko.
She was a 29-year-old nurse, in her fourth year of work at the Georgia General Hospital. She had been in a relationship with a man two years her senior, whom she had met through an acquaintance two years ago, and they had decided to get married after two years of dating.
Recently, as she was preparing for her marriage, she found herself frequently arguing with her boyfriend, with whom she had never fought before.
Today, after choosing furniture for their new home, she had an argument with her boyfriend who seemed disinterested, which bothered her. After her night shift, taking the opportunity when other staff members had left, she called her boyfriend to make up.
"It's me, honey. I'm sorry for getting angry today," she said, resting her chin in her hand and making a large gesture, indicating she thought a proper apology was necessary.
"I got angry without realizing, because it seemed like you were bothered by choosing furniture for our home. I forgot that you've been busy with various things recently, and with work as well," she said as her boyfriend, also troubled by the day's events, offered a loving apology, quickly mending their relationship. They happily chatted for a long time into the night.
As it got very late, considering her partner had to work the next day, she ended the call. Stretching happily, she smiled; solving this major issue seemed to brighten her expression compared to when she came to work.
Humming, she fetched a cup of coffee and started her work by flipping through the patient files. Suddenly, her expression turned to shock as she glanced at the wall clock.
It was past 1:30 AM. She jumped up.
"Oh my gosh! Look at me! What am I doing!" she exclaimed, quickly grabbing a file and running down the hallway, her face turning to panic.
She had forgotten about a cancer patient in the VIP ward who needed pain medication at exactly one o'clock. The patient could be in severe pain if the medication was delayed, hence it was advised to administer it every 11 hours and 30 minutes instead of 12 to prevent any severe pain.
Thinking of the patient, who might be writhing in pain and agony, she broke into a cold sweat as she ran, glancing at the file.
Name: Dariya Miochichi
Age: 87
Diseases: small intestine cancer, kidney cancer, Wilms tumor, metastatic osteosarcoma
Special instructions: Administer pain medication every 12 hours. Administer every 11 hours 30 minutes to prevent severe pain.
Attending doctor's note: Extra caution needed as the patient is a VIP.
The possibility of being fired just before her wedding, if it became known she had neglected a VIP patient, piled onto her fears, making Irina run without even breathing.
Despite hospital rules against nurses running, right now, that was the least of Irina's concerns.
She burst into the VIP ward as if to break down the door.
Inside the quiet, dark, luxurious room with a large, fancy bed visible through a glass partition, she quickly turned on the light and froze seeing Dariya peacefully asleep.
Seeing her sleeping soundly without any signs of discomfort, Irina breathed heavily in relief. However, her relief was short-lived as she frowned looking at the file.
"Seriously, these doctors go crazy over VIP patients! They won't administer pain shots to other patients no matter how much they plead, but they threaten all this pain if it's not done early for a VIP," she muttered irritably while administering the pain medication into Dariya's IV.
After ensuring the medication was mixing properly, she looked down at Dariya's calm face, only to be puzzled seeing earphones in her ears.
"Listening to music while sleeping? That's unusual. I thought she was only interested in books," Irina thought, seeing the earphones connected to an MP3 player held tightly in Dariya's hand. Shrugging her shoulders, she mumbled, "Well, as long as it's nothing serious, it's fine."
She quietly closed the door and checked the charts again to make sure she hadn't missed other patients.
* * *
One month later.
A meeting was held by the doctors at New York Downtown Hospital. It was a monthly occasion where they shared data or discussed unusual patient cases. The doctors, except the one presenting, comfortably held their coffee cups as they settled into their seats in the hospital's top floor convention hall.
The meeting progressed with routine reports prepared on a few PowerPoint slides, and was uneventful until Murphy Troy, the sleepy-looking hospital director, thought, "No unusual cases this month either. Well, that's how a hospital should be—peaceful without complications. However, it's a bit disappointing that there are no research achievements; continuous research is what advances modern medicine."
His attention
perked up when Larry, the head of psychiatry, stepped up to the podium with a thick file.
"Good morning, doctors. I'm Larry Wilkins, head of psychiatry," he announced, waiting for the applause to settle before turning on the projector connected to a large TV behind him.
The title on the screen read, "Verification of the Effectiveness of Music Therapy?" sparking murmurs among the doctors.
"Is that even something you can verify?" "It's still a research area, so maybe Larry has made some progress?" "It's just music therapy. It's hard to prove its effectiveness."
As the murmurs faded under Larry's calm gaze, he smiled and began, "Today, I'm here to report on our research findings from the past month. I'd like to start by thanking Kay for helping us present these results."
At the mention of Kay, Murphy asked in confusion, "Kay? Are you talking about that Kay?"
"Yes, Director. That's correct."
"Oh, you mean he provided the music needed for the therapy?"
"Partially correct. It wasn't just provided; I had to work hard to obtain it."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's start with the first case, and you'll understand why I had to persist."
Confidently, Larry clicked the projector remote, and the screen changed to display a patient's photograph and information.
"Name: Elisha Glass. Age: 44. A patient suffering from severe schizophrenia, depression, and insomnia. She has been in psychiatric care for three years with no signs of improvement after surviving a shark attack while fishing with her family."
Larry clicked again, and the screen showed a video of Elisha sitting on the edge of her bed, mimicking fishing movements. She was also seen fishing from a makeshift bed in the hospital and even atop a toilet.
"Ms. Glass was a patient with a severe imbalance in serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine, under a heavy burden of high-level drug treatments. Here are the medications she was taking."
The screen listed her medications: Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs), a norepinephrine-dopamine reuptake inhibitor (NDRI), tricyclic antidepressants (TCAs), and monoamine oxidase inhibitors (MAO inhibitors).
As the prescriptions appeared, murmurs resumed among the doctors.
"Isn't that dosage concerning for brain function? Was she really that severe?" "Yes, she was on a level of antidepressants that made everyday life impossible." "Her entire family was killed except her; it's understandable. So unfortunate."
Larry paused, letting the murmurs die down before continuing.
"Over the past month, we conducted music therapy provided by Kay, playing it three times a day for one hour each at 10 AM, 4 PM, and 10 PM. Currently, Elisha has stopped taking antidepressants."
Murphy shot up, alarmed.
"What!!!? You stopped the antidepressants for a patient on such a serious level of medication? Are you trying to kill her?"
Younger doctors, looking concerned, also interjected.
"Indeed, Doctor. Stopping medication for a patient on that level could lead to a life-threatening shock. What was the reason for discontinuing the medication?"
"There must have been some thought behind stopping the antidepressants, maybe switching to other drugs," another suggested.
"Where on earth is there a drug that replaces antidepressants? And stopping them for a patient who hasn't shown improvement in three years seems like malpractice to me!"
As the doctors voiced their concerns, Murphy angrily pointed at Larry.
"Larry, you need to explain this properly."
Larry smiled quietly, clicking the remote once more.
The screen now showed a bright, smiling photo of Elisha.