Targeted Neuro-Flushing Procedure

“I, uhh, I have an appointment for 13:20”

The woman looked up briefly from the screen, her eyes quickly taking in the dirty clothes and unkempt hair before giving a strained smile.

“Of course, sir. What was the name, please?”

The young man hesitated slightly before replying, “Uhh, Dricus Bartolo”.

The woman didn’t look up this time, tapping the screen before replying.

“Great, can you fill out the appointment form, and once that’s done, Dr Katalune will see you”. She motioned briefly with her hand towards a table in the centre of the brightly lit reception, where a small tablet rested.

Lifting the tablet from the table, Dricus stared down at the digital form on the page before looking back at the receptionist, who was engrossed in her screen once more.

“Sorry, how does it work?” 

The receptionist met his eyes for the first time, a bemused expression on her face.

“It’s a tablet. You just tap on the screen and fill in the form”.

“No, I mean the procedure. Like, what happens exactly?”

“Oh,” the receptionist was looking down at her screen again. “Don’t worry about that. The Doctor will explain everything when you go in. Just make sure you fill in the form”.

Dricus worked his way through the form, which was headlined ‘Targeted Neuro-Flushing Procedure,’ filling in his height, weight, and date of birth. For his occupation, he initially entered student, then deleted it and left it blank.

“All done”, he held the tablet aloft. “Where should I put this?”

“Just leave it where you found it,” the receptionist replied without looking it up.

As Dricus repositioned the tablet on the table, a door on the other side of the room opened. A small, neatly presented man appeared with a warm greeting for his latest patient.

“Dricus! So good to see you. I hope you’re doing well”. He stretched out his hand.

“Hello, uh, Doctor…”

“Dr Katalune” The doctor smiled warmly at the young man, letting go of his hand after a firm handshake, before motioning for Dricus to follow him to the room he had just entered from. “Please, take a seat”, the doctor motioned to the treatment chair in the centre of the room, which looked like something you might expect to see in a dentist’s office, except for the colossal machine positioned above it.

Dricus stopped in his tracks at the sight of the machine, gazing up at it with a look of horror.

“That”, the doctor exclaimed, beaming with a kind of pride, “is our specialised HIFU, the only one of its kind currently. But with continued success, we’ll soon see machines like this used in clinics all over the world”. 

“HIFU?” Dricus looked unconvinced by the doctor’s enthusiasm as he surveyed the mess of cables and pipes that crisscrossed the enormous apparatus. 

“Yes, it’s quite simple, really. It generates a high-intensity, focused beam of ultrasonic energy that we use to perform normally very complex surgery within the brain. Previously, this technology had been used to lobotomise patients, but with a few tweaks, we’re able to be much more precise in which areas we cut away, allowing us to remove specific memories and ideas that are causing distress”.

“And it’s safe.. Right?”

“As with any surgery, there are risks, of course. But the targeted neuro-flushing procedure is incredibly safe. We have a very high success rate here. Sit down, and we can get started, Dricus”.

“And what happens to the memory? You know, after it’s removed?”

“The memory?” The doctor laughed. “The neurons containing the memory are flushed from your system, and you wake up with no recollection of those events that have caused you so much distress, like a dream you can no longer remember.”

Doctor Katalune strapped Dricus onto the chair and positioned the machine directly above his head as it hummed into life.