Rated: G.

Date: February 1999, copyright to Red Soprano.

Disclaimer: The Sentinel and all related characters are the property of UPN, Paramount and Pet Fly Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made.

Note: This snippet was written in response to a lively debate on one of the TS mailing lists a while back concerning the nature of Jim's senses and why they hadn't been discovered by physicians who had examined him in the past. Since I've done doctoral work in the field of speech and hearing science and have some research experience in the area of sensory perception, I took a stab at shedding some light on the subject. Hope you find this entertaining and educational.

A Sentinel Tutorial

Red Soprano

EMAIL: Red Soprano

"Chief, I've been wondering about something."

"Hmm? That's nice, Jim."

"C'mon, Chief, put the book down for a minute. I need your help with a question here."

"Sure, what's up?"

"I think I'm beginning to lose my faith in medical science."

"Join the club, Jim."

"I was just wondering, I had all those tests with that Dr. McCoy guy right when my senses came back on-line, and a complete examination of my eyes after the Golden incident and a complete physical last year. How come, with all that poking and prodding going on, none of those doctors ever figured out there was something different about my senses? Don't you think that's a little weird?"

"Well, yeah, sorta. But Jim, bear in mind that, on the surface, you don't look any different from anyone else. I mean, your ears, eyes, nose, tongue and skin surface don't appear out of the ordinary, even to the trained eye. Although I expect you do possess top-of-the-line structures which house your sense organs."

"Sense organs?"

"Yeah. Think of them as kind of your touchy-feely, heary, looky, tasty, smelly nerve endings."

"Smelly nerve endings. That's what I like about you, Sandburg. You have such an elegant way of putting things."

"Yeah. People tell me that all the time."

"Assuming they can get a word in edgewise...."

"Do you want my opinion on this subject or not, Jim?"

"Yeah, sorry. Go on with your lecture, professor."

"Okay. Take you ears, for example. The structures themselves don't appear that extraordinary. In fact, come to think of it, you've got rather dainty looking ears, Conan. Hey. How come I never noticed this before? Jim, when did you get your ear pierced?"

"Stop that! I'll thank you to keep your cold mitts off my earlobe."

"Sorry. Wow. That is so cool. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. Jim, don't get me wrong. I'm not suggesting you have just run of the mill equipment here. Getting back to your ears --"

"Have you got some kind of ear fetish, Sandburg?"

"-- I imagine that your outer ear and external ear canals are wonders to behold -- shaped just right to capture and amplify sounds in the environment. Oh! And your tympanic membrane! Ah, Jim, I'll bet your ear drum is a mechanical marvel, functioning at peak efficiency and in perfect coordination with those itty-bitty bones in the middle ear. That's assuming, of course that you don't have icky wax buildup in the ear canals -- which reminds me Jim, never put anything smaller than your elbow in your ear."

"What?"

"Just advise an old girlfriend gave me. She was an audiologist. See, those Q-tips just push the wax further in --"

"Listen, Sandburg, can we skip the public service announcement and get back to my original question?"

"Oh, sure. What was your original question?"

"Why haven't the doctors who've examined me in the past figured out that something's up with my senses?"

"Well, a routine physical probably wouldn't include tests specific enough to uncover heightened senses. I mean, they look in your ears and nose and throat, but, as I said before, I doubt they'd see anything that they'd consider out-of-the-ordinary. The neurological check a doctor does in a routine exam would uncover things that might suggest a disease process, but probably not pique the physician's curiosity about hyperactive senses. At least, not enough to have him investigate further."

"So that's why the doctor that did my last physical didn't suspect anything?"

"Actually, I think that may have had more to do with the fact that she was distracted by your --"

"Don't go there, Chief. She behaved very professionally."

"Mmm-hmm. Yeah, right. Let's see, where was I again? Oh, that guy that checked out your eyes after you got Golden in them. Well, he as much as said that he wasn't sure what was going on. The drug was really playing a number on your vision, man. I mean, it would have been hard for the poor guy to sort out the forest for the trees even if we'd given him the time and the information he needed to examine you properly."

"Well, what about that Dr. McCoy guy? The one I saw when my senses first came back on-line? He ran all sorts of tests. Why didn't he figure it out? Especially since I came right out and complained that I was hypersensitive to everything."

"Well, Jim. I have a theory about that."

"What?"

"Dr. McCoy was a quack."

"Sandburg...."

"Okay, maybe not a quack, but, Jesus, I looked at your file. That guy was as dumb as a rock! He wasn't even running the right kinds of tests. He did some blood work, a cranial nerve exam, tested your reflexes and did a CAT scan, probably to make sure you didn't have a tumor or anything. What I can't figure out is why the hell that bozo didn't run some evoked potentials on you."

"Evoked what?"

"Evoked potentials. Kind of like an EEG. For example, he could have done auditory or visual evoked potentials very easily and traced the neural pathway of those nerves through the brain all the way back to the auditory and visual cortices of your brain. Jim, I'm certain there's gotta be something about the way sensory information is encoded and decoded in your brain that's different from the normal human being."

"So you're saying I don't really have better ears, eyes, taste buds, olfactory glands or fingertips than Joe-Blow off the street? You're saying it's all in my head?"

"Well, no, not entirely. As I said, you've probably got top-of-the-line external sensory equipment there, big guy, but I'm certain the real reason behind your heightened senses has to do with the way your neurons are firing."

"So you're saying it's purely neurological, not psychological?"

"No, I didn't say that, either. When you're talking senses, you can't really separate out the psychological component. That's especially true with you, Jim. The fact that you're able to exert some conscious control over your senses suggests that there is a cognitive component to the way you process and control them. I mean, think of it, Jim. The fact that you can visualize a dial and turn things down when the stimulation gets to be too much means that, not only is your brain doing some higher level processing of sensory information, but you're capable of linking up the thinking part of your brain with the purely sensory part of your brain in a way that no normal person is able to do."

"Hmm. Thoughtful and sensual. No wonder the women all love me."

"Yeah. Right. Whatever. Anyway, Jim, there are some drawbacks to that heightened psychological link."

"What's that?"

"Your senses and your emotions are also more strongly linked. Don't forget, you've had at least two episodes of hysterically induced sensory loss."

"Great."

"Don't worry, Jim. That's what I'm here for."

"Refresh my memory, Sandburg. Exactly what are you here for?"

"C'mon, Jim. Why you gotta hurt me like this?"

"I'm kidding, Chief. I know exactly why you're here. You're here to help me understand and control my senses --"

"Yup."

"You're here to help me use them to the fullest of their potential --"

"Check."

"You're here to watch my back --"

"Gotcher back, partner...."

"You're here to obfuscate our way out of a sticky situation when someone gets suspicious about why I can hear a flea fart from fifty paces --"

"Wow! You can do that?!"

"You're here to be my partner and to guide me through all this. You're here to give me peace of mind, to be the one person I can turn to, to talk about all this crazy sentinel stuff. You're here to be my friend. In fact ... come to think of it, Blair, you're my *best* friend.... So, what d'ya think? That about cover it?"

"Mm?"

"Chief?"

"<sniff> Yeah, mm-hmm."

"Chief? You okay?"

"Uh. Yeah. Sure Jim. <sniff> Just, uh, got something in my eye here...."

"Here, let me look...."

"No, Jim, that's okay. 'scuse me. I'll just go to the john and get something to, uh ... you know ... 'scuse me ... <sniff>"

"Chief?"

<sound of nose-blowing>

"Chief, you okay in there?"

"Mm-hm."

"Hey, Chief...."

"Mm-hmm? Yeah, Jim?"

"I love you, too, kid."