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Blog Blurb: Mother Russia and the Mental Health Monster
The following is a recent excerpt from a local social justice blog, Mother Russia. The article is aptly named, 'Mother Russia and the Mental Health Monster.' Much of the text details the state of Psychiatric affairs and laws within the CCD, criticizing it at points; Meera Alam is mentioned in an off-handed way, half-praising the CCD, through pompous prose.

 “…Meera Alam, graduate at the top of her classes at Cairo University School of Medicine, has recently been accepted into the nursing staff of the state-run health facility, The Guardian. Nurse Meera has an outstanding track record from her time spent in the many psychiatric facilities across Egypt. Many local critics hope that her recent employment with the facility is the heraldic sign of a new, sympathetic, and holistic approach to care for the mentally ill located within the ill-reputed Guardian.”

"She had tortured hundreds, maybe thousands, in the name of understanding and reason. Torture made sense. You truly saw what a person was made of, in more ways than one, when you began to slice into them. That was a phrase she'd used on numerous occasions. It usually made her smile." 
- The Wheel of Time, The Gathering Storm, Chapter 22, Robert Jordan
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Excerpt leaked from the inbox of head administrator of the Guardian:

“… radical changes. But with the arrival of Meera Alam, I’m forced to make changes in my private practice’s matrix. Old friend, please. I’m not blaming you or any director for these two decades. I praise your efforts, the sterling work you have undertaken since you took over the hospital board. No matter what the popular press says— […] perhaps by year’s end your newest staff will be able to treat my patient, Eiji…"

Eiji saw red. He felt his pulse rate rise. Not now… not now…

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to slow his breathing the way his doctor had taught him. But the front-lines was only a heartbeat away. The lightning. The spraying mud. The enemy. The pools filling the trenches. Red, red…

His doctor nodded. “Let’s have it, Eiji-san.” the little Belgian said, settle back onto his place on the couch.

Eiji’s fingers were shaking as he unbuckled the attache case and slid the printed copies of Mother Russia article out. Both were sleeved in blue covers and closed with gold ribbons. He passed one to his doctor, who took it and slit the ribbon open with a scalpel.

He opened his own copy and started to read.

Meera Alam’s CV had stunning statistics. Eiji’s doctor blinked. He knew Guardian well, from his residency there in long-past days. Publicly funded, to be sure, but still...

“Do you want to transfer to the Guardian?” the doctor asked quietly.

Eiji lowered his copy. The loose page fell out of cover and fluttered down onto the carpet.

He felt his pulse rise again. Anger rose up in him like a thermostat that had been stuck in a furnace. He wanted to scream at his doctor.

Instead, he bit his tongue and breathed deeply, the way the doctor taught him.

“Yes, Sensei.” Eiji said.

His voice sounded tiny and strained.

Sensei raised a hand.

Lamplight winked off the panthere de cartier diamond cut bezel on his platinum watch.

“Eiji-san, I will contact the hospital administrator recommending you to Alam-sama, but there is no guarantee she can take you.”

Eiji Lynx swallowed and considered his doctor’s words one by one. He felt a touch giddy. The pin in his hip suddenly ached like hell.

“I am grateful, thank you.”

Sensei laughed. Loudly. But it was forced, Eiji could sense.

Eiji Lynx

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