Chapter 22

Soon, psychiatric technicians removed the belts restraining me. I tried to cooperate since I was in a prison of sorts and had absolutely no help, nor did I know exactly what had happened between my vision of the being and my restraint in that mental hospital.

Dr. Kortright said, "Follow me." She took me down a hallway with doors on both sides. People wearing hospital gowns stared at me, and I looked down and saw I was wearing a hospital gown too. Many of them had unkempt hair, and some slept on the floor.

"All secrets shall be revealed," said the voice in my mind. "Read Isaiah 42."

"But I don't have a Bible," I said.

"Why do you need a Bible?" said Dr. Kortright, the psychiatrist in black. "Are the voices speaking to you again?"

"Yes, er no," I said.

"Come on, Dr. Sanglao. You can tell me. I'm a professional here to help you through your issues."

"I meant I need a Bible because I'm a Catholic." I wasn't lying, sort of.

"Oh, I see. Ask your social worker or one of the technicians. They'll get you a Bible."

"Thanks, Doctor..."

"Kortright." She took me to an office at the end of the hallway, opposite the end where they had restrained me in the "Quiet Room".

There, a husky, African-American man wearing a blue dress shirt and black dress slacks sat in a chair next to a desk. He stood up when I entered the office, and he must have stood 6 foot 5 and weighed over 200 pounds.

"Dr. Sanglao?" said the African-American man.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Special Agent John Feldman of Defense Security Services," he said as he flashed a gold badge at me. He gave me his business card.

"What does DSS want with me?"

"Have a seat, you two," said Dr. Kortright, taking a seat behind the desk. Special Agent Feldman and I sat down. "Special Agent Feldman, Dr. Sanglao is suffering from some sort of psychotic disorder. My initial assessment is that he suffers from schizophrenia, possibly schizoaffective disorder, or maybe just bipolar disorder. We'll keep him here for observation and treatment."

"I'm afraid I have bad news for you, Dr. Sanglao," said Special Agent Feldman. "Because you had a pscyhotic episode in a Department of Defense R & D laboratory and now you're in a psychiatric facility, the DoD has no choice but to revoke your security clearance."

"You mean I'm losing my job?"

"You're officially dismissed from service with the United States Department of Defense," Special Agent Feldman said. "Here are your separation papers. Good luck with your treatment." He handed me a manila envelope with the seal of the Department of Defense. Then the DSS special agent departed from the office.