Dr. Ith Lazarus, MD. Floor 3, Office 7D ###-###-#### Ext. 126 Department of Phobia Research/Treatment
Request for Surgical Reconsideration
August 13th, 1957
Dr. Johnathan Brawn,
I am writing this letter to you concerning Patient #471, Christopher Walters. As you are aware, Mr. Walters was placed in my care shortly after my arrival here at Amber Hill. Three months have gone by, and despite great strides in his treatment, Mr. Walters is still scheduled for a lobotomy treatment next week on August 19th. It is my opinion that, under my treatment regimen, his agoraphobiahas decreased from a severe affliction to only a mild one. In a period of only sixty days, Mr. Walters has found the mental stability to leave his cell into the cell block, and from there into the front yard of the institution. Our recent therapy sessions have also revealed that he is considering finally obtaining his drivers license after his time here -- a dream crushed should the surgery be preformed. Let me also mention that Mr. Walters had come here voluntarily, then detained indefinitely without option to leave after his preliminary examinations by your department.
As a result of the progress made, I would like to once again request that Mr. Walters be removed from the surgical list -- my professional opinion is that he no longer requires the medical attention of a lobotomy to cure his mental affliction. Also, if I may state my personal opinion, the lobotomy procedure is barbaric in nature and nothing more than an 'easy out' of conventional therapy techniques. I am aware of the reported 'metal health miracles' lobotomies have provided as of late, but I believe them to be nothing more than a popular fad in the medical community as of late. Also, the nature of phobias is hardly qualifying of such a drastic surgical operation which is usually reserved for the homicidal and schizophrenic.
While I am trained and qualified to preform the scheduled procedure, I am very against doing so for the case of Mr. Walters or in any case for that matter. I am aware of your years of expertise in this field, and while I respect your knowledge, I still question the ethical implications of removing part of someone's psyche -- regardless of how terminally ill they are. You have not replied to, or aknowledged, my last three letters regarding this matter; please heed this one and reconsider.
Somewhere, modern day, in the long-forgotten subbasement of Amber Hill Asylum a lone filing cabinet sits covered in dust. Once belonging to the former night-doctor, John Brawn, the files inside sit ignored by time. The third drawer from the bottom, locked, holds a large manilla folder with the above letter and a handful of similar ones -- each one marked with the same stamp.