By Gerald Klee, MD
[Spring 2006; Vol. 32, No. 3; Pg 5, 10]
Ingrid
and Otto lived in a house
in a quiet neighborhood. They had been childhood sweethearts and had married
young. Their union was not blessed with children, but it was blessed with a
quiet love and companionship. They didn't go out much. They enjoyed sitting at
home together in the evenings. They didn't talk much, but they understood each
other without the need for words. Faithfully they watched the six o'clock news
on television together every evening, followed by their favorite shows, which
included "The Honeymooners", "I Love Lucy" and the "Ed
Sullivan Show".
After
50 years of marital bliss, Otto died as quietly, and one might say as
uneventfully, as he had lived. Hardly anyone noticed, except of course Ingrid.
She was devastated.
Following
a small, quiet funeral for Otto, she went home and rapidly went into a deep
depression. She sat in a chair all day, nervously fidgeting, and would hardly
eat or sleep. She was also constantly scared. The slightest sound would send her
into spasms of fear that someone was breaking into the house. She seldom went
out because that would be too dangerous. She could only sit and sadly wish that
Otto were back. If she
The
neighbors brought food, but she hardly touched it and barely spoke to them. Her
only living relative, a sister who lived in a neighboring state, visited her and
saw that her condition was serious. Before she wasted away entirely, her sister
convinced her to see the family doctor who looked her over and found no physical
problems other than poor nutrition. He sent her to me for psychiatric treatment.
I've
seen a lot of people in mourning and a lot of people in depression, and a lot of
people who were both in mourning and depression. Rarely have I seen a sadder
case or one more difficult to treat. Ingrid didn't talk much, hardly at all in
fact. She didn't even talk much about Otto. They had never talked much with each
other. She just missed him terribly. And it didn't look as if she could live
without him.
I
prescribed medications, but none of them helped her. Months went by and things
weren't getting any better. In fact, she seemed to get even more depressed as
the anniversary of Otto's death was approaching. She was unwilling to
consider hospitalization.
On
the anniversary of his death, Ingrid visited Otto’s grave, as she had often
done. She spent a long time there "communicating" with him silently.
While she was there, she saw a large brown and black German shepherd who came up
to her and licked her hand. He then sat at her side looking up expectantly.
Ingrid was surprised to discover that she was not afraid of him. He had no
collar or tag. As she left the cemetery, she noticed that he was following close
behind her.
After
driving home, Ingrid heard a scratching at the door as she sat in the living
room. She looked out and there was the dog. He went into the kitchen, looked at
the sink and then at the refrigerator. Ingrid knew he must be thirsty and hungry
so she gave him a bowl of water and some leftover food that the neighbors had
brought. After having his fill, the dog went into the living room and sat in
front of the television set, his ears alert and his tail wagging.
It
was just about six o'clock; time for the evening news. Ingrid hadn't watched
television since Otto died. She turned it on and she and the dog watched the
news. His attention never faltered. He appeared to show emotions in relation to
whatever news stories happened to be on at the moment. He even growled at the
same politicians Otto had disliked. At eight o'clock, the dog was again sitting
in front of the television set with his tail wagging. It was time for the
"Ed Sullivan
Show". Ingrid hadn't watched that either since Otto had died. So they
watched it together and the dog seemed to enjoy it immensely, as did she. Ten
o'clock was the "I Love Lucy" show and the same thing happened. Ingrid
laughed for the first time in a year.
At
bedtime, she crawled into bed. The dog climbed into the bed next to her in
Otto's place. It seemed natural and they both fell asleep. Ingrid slept through
the night for the first time in a year.
The
next morning she gave the dog Otto's favorite breakfast-ham and eggs, toast and
marmalade and coffee. He gulped it down. They went for a walk. They ate lunch
and then dinner. The dog loved all of Otto's favorite dishes.
Ingrid
regained her appetite, became relaxed and didn't feel a moment's fear or
loneliness. Soon she was calling the dog Otto. Otto was always at her side.
Every evening at six o'clock, they watched the news together and later the
"Ed Sullivan Show," "I Love Lucy," "The
Honeymooners" and all of the other television shows that Ingrid and Otto
had loved watching together. When I saw Ingrid again some weeks later, I hardly
recognized her. She seemed nearly back to her normal weight and most of the
lines had left her face. She was relaxed and happy. She introduced me to Otto
and told me that God must have sent him. I didn't see much of Ingrid after that.
Now and then I would run into her in the street, always accompanied by Otto,
both of them looking relaxed and happy.
Time
went by and Ingrid died. Otto was present throughout the funeral service, which
was attended by only her sister and a few neighbors. Of the few friends she'd
had, most of them were already dead. She was placed in the earth by the side of
her husband. Otto number two remained at the graveside after everyone left. He
did not eat or drink or sleep. Soon he was gone and seen no more.
Some
people said they had seen him just fade away. Others said they saw him fade into
a shadow and saw the shadow rise into the sky and disappear. People say
psychiatrists don't have all the answers. I have to admit that's true.
This
story is based on a case Dr. Klee saw some years ago. In reconstructing the
details, he says "My imagination may have filled in a few
things
here and there”.
From
the Harvard Medical Alumni Bulletin,
WINTER 1995 VOLUME 68 NUMBER 3. Reprinted courtesy of the Harvard Medical
Alumni Bulletin