Hi, Andrew
Welcome to MM, hope you'll find it a friendly and useful site. As Nina and Lori (Cleo) say, do feel free to ask about anything.
This is a very vivid and polished story; despite the grim subject matter you managed to enthrall me. I'm very relieved to hear it is not entirely autobiographical. Depression is something that most of us deal with at some level at some time in our lives, if not first hand then for friends or family.
The details of the scan procedure are so real that it adds wonderful credibility to the tale; I chuckled at the belt removal. You build up the confinement and claustrophobia very well without overdoing it; perhaps the narator is too lethargic and depressed to really care.
I have heard that scans are not used much in diagnostics and so on for depression etc yet, but are certainly being used in mood research to pinpoint the areas of the brain involved in different types of affective disorders, so the idea here is excellent.
I loved the questions from the computer screen, and even more that we never hear his answers, just his thoughts that are sparked by them.
I couldn't explain it, but as my forefingers rested over the response buttons, my thumb drifted beneath them, scanning the plastic mounting of the black button that I was not, under any circumstances, to touch. As the questioning continued, finally I ran it across its smooth, varnished surface. My desire to press this button was becoming relentless, almost painful.
In my own mind I was wondering if the questions about the black button were being supplied by the computer or by his own mind? That black button takes on immense significance; the ray of hope that he opts for a return to the world is excellent. Very powerful indeed.
My only suggestion is that perhaps he wouldn't care about or remember the names of the medical staff - so you could simply refer to 'the doctor' and 'the technician' - impersonnal ?
Wonderful story; looking forward to more.
Fran
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