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not his sexual orientation.
    "Hello, Dr. Jacobs," Ms Reynolds said, smiling at him. Barry smiled back, her soft, warm voice soothing his ragged nerve ends. Since he'd never been assigned to the Ad Ward, he hadn't had much contact with her until now. He found himself contrasting the healthy brown glow of her skin to Luba's sallow complexion.
    One classy-looking gal.
    "Any problems?" he asked.
    "You might look at Dolph Benning," she said. "He's regressed to staying in bed curled into fetal position. We can get him to respond some, but he's practically stopped eating. And Laura Jean McRead is having porn nightmares—she related one yesterday to our student nurse that made Sally turn bright red."
    "Let's see, I think I have a session set up for Laura Jean, don't I?"
    "Tomorrow morning at ten, Doctor."
    "I'll talk to her a few minutes this afternoon, then we'll include her in the patient conference at the end of the week. Who else do we have scheduled then?"
    "Margaret Flowers."
    "The Duchess? She's an old-timer, probably not much new on her, so we can work Laura Jean in, too. I don't like the sound of the sex dreams. Up until now her fantasies of whoredom have all been in a waking state—this new symptom may herald complications."

    "She's not stripping as much. Hasn't taken her clothes off once in four days. We even have trouble getting her out of them and into her pajamas at night."
    He nodded. "She definitely needs discussing. Anything else?"
    "Nothing important. We're never going to program Mousie—Mr. Mausser—for his BMs. He even holds back when we insert suppositories."
    Barry smiled. "I don't expect miracles. I know Mr. Mausser from his former ward and I suspect you're right. He has a primitive sense of humor. Remember when he pissed on my shoes last week? I saw the evil gleam in his eye."
    They laughed together as they walked toward Mr. Benning's room.
    Standing over Dolph's bed, Barry called his name without any response. With Alma 's help he tried to uncurl Dolph and succeeded in getting him to open his eyes. Dolph focused on them blankly, then his eyelids drooped shut.
    Alma made a face. "That's how it's been all day. Yesterday he was still whining for his jacket and today, this. I looked in his history and his wife mentions he sometimes acted 'like a baby' at home."
    "Did we ever get his records from up north?" Barry asked when they were back in the corridor.
    Alma shook her head.
    "I'll get Medical Records to call them and check. He may need ECT and I'd like to know if they ever shocked him up there and, if so, how many times and the results. You'd think we'd have better communication within the system."
    "Would I? You forget I work here, too." Alma jerked her head toward Dolph's room. "I asked social service to write his wife a week ago. I wanted to know if she could visit and bring along the green jacket he's so lost without." She sighed. "I found out yesterday they hadn't gotten around to it and I'm really bothered because of how he's regressed."
    "I don't think it would have made any difference," Barry said, "The jacket may be a childhood symbol—who knows?"
    "I realize that, but I wanted to find out whether or not this green jacket actually exists. If it does, it might prove to be his security blanket while he's here."
    Barry grinned at her, raising his eyebrows. "Mama Reynolds?"
    To his surprise, she stiffened, then turned and stalked off.
    He caught up with her. "Hey, what gives?"
    "Sorry. You caught me off guard. There's a—someone who calls me 'Momma A.' I don't like it. I guess I overreacted."
    "A for what?" he said, looking at her uniform pin and noticing the quickened rise and fall of the nicely rounded breast under the pin.
    "A for Alma ." She smiled faintly and glanced deliberately at his name pin. "I know what your first name is—the B is for Barry."
    "So we've progressed socially to a first name basis."
    "But not professionally, Dr. Jacobs."
    "I know the rules as well as you do, Ms