Well... the preliminary results seem good. The hypothesis is holding well, and already several students have made full recoveries. It takes much longer than the Fahree dust - ah... ah... ACHOO! - which works instantly, as the, uh, "doll-ness" tries to escape the grossness of the tub, but eventually gets sapped out of the patient entirely. I have yet to ascertain exactly how often the mud bath needs changing. Estimates range from immediately for the most severe cases to four patients later for the mildest.

I have found that most patients report acute disappointment in returning to their prior state, but this wears off and they become extraordinarily grateful for their recovery. It makes me wonder what sort of experience these dolls are having - ACHOO! ACHOO! Oh, excuse me... - that makes them so upset to be reverted. It certainly raises some ethical questions too, is it right to do without their consent? Although the vast majority of the PsyHigh students signed their Soul Waivers back in their freshman welcome weeks, some of the staff and certain cults did not.

The Spongiform Unimind would perhaps be able to help me, but I don’t have the energy to visit the lovely fellow. Usually I like to take my morning perambulation down to visit them, and we discuss all sorts of interesting things. Like last week, when they informed me all about the number 42. Fascinating subject. But lately, I’ve been finding my legs a little... stiff. So I’ve elected to take my morning rounds instead of seeing Spongi.

I always wanted to talk to Spongi about... about... drat, the word has entirely slipped my mind. My Mama always used to say... Mama.... Ma-ma?

Only five refused treatment so far, and there are thirty requesting experimental treatments. I contacted the Board of Psychic Medics, naturally, and they promised to send a team of researchers, but recommended I begin first by gathering as many psychic remedies as I could.

My university days might be millennia behind me, but I still remember my roommate: the naturopathic healer who insisted rat's urine, pigeon milk and bee sweat were the cures for around twenty mild childhood illnesses. Madness, everyone told him. Admittedly, he did receive a prize for his efforts, and they do indeed work, but they seemed just as bonkers as myself digging in the playing field for a ripe baseball which I had sensed just a few moments before.

A popular theory with many youngsters in university is that drinking psychically altering substances improves their grade. It doesn’t, but that doesn’t stop them. One such substance is a flagon of hearty ale, combined with the spit of a wizened snail. Old Snail Ale they called it.

Well, if only my classmates could see me now! Having a tiny tea party with @Ginger Hope Mint, her feet resting in a cup of warmed Snail Ale, and trying to get something out of her other than "Clowns ARE funny, aren’t they?". We had a moment when she told me about how much her toes ached, but then went straight back to her tirade about those entertainers.

The toes aching is a good sign, I want to report. It shows that she’s developed some way of sensing in the lower extremities again, which is excellent news. Perhaps there’s more to Snail Ale than meets the eye?

In other news, the Dolls seem to be rioting about terminology used to describe them. I apologise, my friends, but I didn’t invent the terms. You have the Foot and Under Act of 52 BC, held in Teotihuacan to blame for that. Very long time ago, but a survey shows that 64 percent of Foot and Under folk approve of their term. To be fair, three quarters of the surveyed were suffering from Sheepism at the time (where they agree with whatever the person next to them says). Perhaps it’s time for a change.

Speaking of change, the other day I was making rounds and I spotted @Fang Abstooth stretching, and a little piece of porcelain on their arm cracked. Of course, they were very alarmed, but I could have jumped for joy. When a patient is on the road to returning to their prior self, you see, their porcelain bodies crack open like eggshells. It takes a few attempts to get all the way back to full size, like a crab growing out of an exoskeleton, for a biological comparison.

However, this meant that the techniques being used on Fang were working, really working! At least they work for Fang... Annoyingly though, Beatle larvae are hard to find without a John Lennon lookalike... but they are certainly effective at combating Doll Flu!

Current hypothesis: as creepy crawlies are the antithesis of doll tea parties, their use in medication could be enough to counteract the affliction.

Next test: Placing a test subject in a room covered with mud, leaves, bugs etc.

Becky's gift with bats may well save the populace of PsyHigh, and it appears to be just in time, too. Elphaba and I have been working around the clock to cope with the influx of fine China fractures and porcelain pustules. Haggard, Elphie tells me about her time as a junior nurse in Bethlem Hospital, back when it was being used for psychic ailments. She’s somewhere in the middle of retelling one of my favourites (it’s the one about the girl who forgot how to breathe) when Becky's delivery arrived. She looks up gloomily, already running tallies.

We both arrive at the same, startling, conclusion. "There’s not enough."

I rub my eyes. My assistant, Jess Gynn, somehow didn’t receive the sickness herself despite having no personal protective equipment during the entirety of the plague. Perhaps I should investigate that, but for now, she passes me a clipboard with the findings of the rounds made earlier that day. The board reads as follows:

Cutaneous China Formations: 1187
Height of no more than 12 inches: 550
Vocabulary severely impaired: 281
Bone China: 63
Dead Stare: 29
Total Doll Transformation: 3

As you can tell, the numbers aren’t good. Despite our best efforts, three students have succumbed to the flu. There is nothing more I can do for them now. They are dolls... forever.

Their families have been informed, and the necessary paperwork written out such that they can continue their lives in the "Foot and Under" Department of PsyHigh. It is truly a dark time, and the school will hold a twelve and three quarter minute silence, in honour of every foot lost in height.

I think back on every patient I’ve lost, every misdiagnosis that could have killed, every...

No, come on... Shake it off, you’ve still got patients who are relying on you Doctor! They need your help!

Right. Becky has successfully provided 32 cups of Fahree dust - enough to at least treat those with the Dead Stare and put them on the road to recovery. For the rest though, we must wisely ration what little we will have left.

The remaining three cups will have to be shared amongst the most severe of the sick dolls. If worst comes to worst, we may have to find volunteers to... refuse treatment.

That can’t be it. There must be more I can do.

~~~

Any who wish to volunteer for experimental treatment, please contact either Head Nurse Abalone or Dr Krimsborg. Please record your experience and symptoms in your journal, and page Dr Krimsborg for analysis.

Any who wish to refuse treatment, please complete and return Part 12 of your medical legislature. Paper sizes: A4, Q13 (standard paper size for “foot and under” folk) or F22 (interim size, suitable for approximately 3ft beings).

~~~

Thank you for your patience. The day of silence will be announced shortly.

...

...

...

...

It has been weeks, nay, months, since I last returned to Psychic High. I had been travelling, you see, gathering data and information on the year's most likely psychic ailments. I made a grave error in assuming that last year's outbreak of Skipping Rope Syndrome had made the general population immune to toy-based viruses, and so discarded the possibility of Doll Flu. What an arrogant fool I was.

The doll furniture crisis is but one part of the necessary treatment of Doll Flu. The other parts are much more, how do I put this... dangerous.

Future Psychic Physicians pay attention. In order to reverse Doll Flu, for each patient a cup of fairy dust is required. No, not *fairy*, *Fahree*. The Fahree are an extraordinarily reclusive anthropomorphic bat species. Their world is highly advanced and their wariness of human contact not entirely unwarranted. Many psychics have taken advantage of the once trusting creatures to steal the dust that they naturally secrete from their wings.

I meet with the head nurse, Elphaba Abalone, who is trying to help one poor student who’s eyes will not open when she is sat up. Loosening the eyes is a complex procedure, and so I wait for it to be completed in one eye before I clear my throat. "Hello Elphie."

She looks up. "Oh thank heavens, I was wondering if you were ever going to return! I’ve been Psychically calling for days!"

I blush slightly. "Yes, well I was a little, ah, preoccupied. You see, the Antrogometri species allowed me into their colony-”

"I hope you can shed some light on the Doll Flu cases," Nurse Abalone interrupts. "Patient Zero is still being identified."

I scratch at my beard - when did that grow? - before telling her everything I recall about it. "...which is why I think we need to call in @Becky Wren. She’s the only one who might be able to persuade the Fahree chiefs to share their dust. It could be the only chance for some of these students. How many are in Bone China phase?"

"Eleven. There’s four more showing signs of moving into it, and two who I fear might succumb to the Dead Stare."

"Then this is serious," I say.

I sigh heavily. "Why is it that everything goes horrifically wrong the moment I go and take some time off?"

I highly recommend against Abstract Dissections, Klarya, unless you are looking at going into research. It's a necessary course for the Psymed Program - needed in order to go onto anything in psychic medicine, including being a Psychic Medic like myself. As I recall it's recommended for a variety of other courses, but for the stress of the subject it just isn't worth it.

Phobia dissection occurs, yes, but so also does DDD Dissection. No I'm not stuttering, the DDD Dissection is a dissection of a creature called the Deepest Darkest Demon. That makes phobias from the school traps look like wood panelled meditation rooms. You may know about the DDD from your Intro to Dark Psykers classes back in freshman year. I have to provide Calming Bells for that class nowadays as the anxiety can crush new students.

In my opinion I would stick to your original class. I still remember some of the dissections I did for my original qualification 750 years ago. And I wish I didn't.

I was enjoying my evening meal on last Thursday. I was just tucking into the fresh Joobie Berry and Almond Wafer I had for dessert as a treat when I received an emergency call. Seems my dessert must wait.

I donned my gear and strode out into the darkening night. As I had walked, I had wondered what the issue was. All I had been told was to go to the Tree That Screams and wait for further information. Perhaps it was a wood nymph, they gather by the Tree. Or maybe a Lonesome Devil, forced to live beside cursed objects.

It turned out to be a mysterious woman with no eyes hovering slightly above the surface of the ground. Behind her on either side was a scary-looking ginger and @Anita Klue. It was all very odd. I immediately assumed the issue was with Anita and asked her what was wrong. Startled, she told me it wasn't her.

I apologised and addressed the floating woman. "Who is the patient?"

She paused, as if looking me over, before responding. "@Jess Gynn."

I stop short. Then, "Lead me to her."

---

I've tried Mantras. I've tried Focused Gestures. I've tried Mellow Whispering. Damn it, I've even tried Moon Purification. Nothing.

Her state is deteriorating and it's driving me crazy to not be able to help. The ginger, who I later learned is called "Argumentative Redhead" (how descriptive) evaded my every question. Eventually I had to collar Anita as well.

They both responded at the same time.

"Nothing."

"A Cursed Balloon popped on her."

I look between the two. Neither make eye contact with me, preferring to stare almost anywhere else. "So what is the truth," I ask quietly yet sternly. "I won't mince my words: if I don't know what has happened I can't get anything more specific to treat her and She. Will. Die."

Argumentative Redhead moved suddenly over to where Miss Gynn was lying on the bed. She firmly grasped one of Jess' hands, her own being white knuckled in intensity. She completely ignored me and began whispering to Jess in a low voice. It allowed me to study the two in a free manner. From my perspective, it seemed to be taking a great amount of effort for her to retain a grip on Jess' hand. It suddenly clicked. I wheeled round to face Anita.

"She... she's experiencing physical destabilisation."

Anita refused to look at me. "It was an accident," she barely whispered, regret seeping into her voice. "I wasn't there."

I nod, pausing for thought. She takes the opportunity to hurry away and I don't stop her. Instead I turn to Argumentative Redhead, who seems to be crying. I rest a hand on her shoulder.

"I put her in the Solomon," she says quietly, bitterly.

On the other side of the room is the piece of equipment that Argumentative Redhead referred to as a Solomon. Solomon is in fact a brand name much like Jacuzzi, and as such I will refer to it using its correct terminology: the STSS or Space Time Suspension System. In essence it freezes everything inside it to the precise moment the system was activated, right down to the subatomic and psychic levels. It's a last resort treatment, as all sorts of problems can result from its use. I know it's what I would have done anyway.

"She just started... disintegrating," she says softly, like she's afraid of her own words. "I don't think she even was aware I was there."

I nod. "What is your relation to Miss Gynn," I probe.

"I'm a friend," she replies sharply. "I care about her."

"So do I," I say back, sitting down. "She's my secretary. Or she was. I told her not to go into vigilantism... I guess she didn't listen."

"It's my fault," she replies. "I persuaded her to join us. Blame me, Doc. It's my fault."

I took a deep breath. "We need to... find a solution. Figure out what's wrong. But we can't do that if we're blaming everyone. I can't do that if I'm blaming everyone. Just... look after her."

We both stare at the device, the box-like form casting a strong sharp shadow on the floor.

Unexpectedly, I'm reminded of Anita. Her poetry!

"Redhead," I say suddenly. "I need Anita to write me a poem."

This is a general reminder that certain students have medical needs which must be obeyed by all staff and students. Some of the ones most commonly infracted against are:

@Jess Gynn, who is currently metamorphosed into a cat after someone scratched her ears in the right spot. She informs me this is very annoying as she cannot study until her claws fall out. Please do not scratch Jess's ears, pull her whiskers or try to catch her tail, as the stimulation can trigger spontaneous changing. Further study is required to fully understand but we appreciate your cooperation.

@Calliope Krimsborg, who is here as part of the summer camp, has difficulty remaining within the correct planes of dimension and time. Please do not frighten or surprise Calliope in any way unless you wish to aid me in reconstruction of a Omnilocational Stabiliser in her room. I'm not an excellent mechanic. You have been warned.

@Ekatarina S. has been in contact with Strange Patterns paint for some time. It is advised that she be allowed to complete the cycle and return to PsyHigh without significant interruption from others, as she has entered the realm of the bugs.

Thank you, and remember: the General Psychic Clinic is always open for business! For anyone, thing or non-Newtonian corporeal fluid!

Of course I have plenty of first aid supplies. I shall drop a kit over to the camp tomorrow if you would like. It would be helpful to get a list of the students attending and their specific abilities and needs... I'm still waiting for a shipment of physicality patches to treat ghosts and other spectral illusions.

Hopefully I shall be able to supply the following for the camp:

15 assorted high-viscosity plasters
15 assorted waterproof plasters
15 assorted fireproof plasters
6 packets of Anti-Hex powder in 3 colours
2 temporary vacuum chambers
111 fan assisted Nanites(TM)
1 Infinice stand for rapid cooling therapy

Should other supplies be required do not hesitate to contact me or my secretary Jess Gynn. Excitingly, she has successfully taken the Oath to begin training as a Psychic Medic when she has completed her studies at Psychic High School. Therefore, as she is staying on campus this summer due to unforeseen circumstances ("Really? You mean the Farseers didn't see that far huh?"), I'm sure she would be happy to assist in whatever capacity required ("Huh, what?! I didn't agree to this!").

Many thanks,
Dr Krimsborg, DPM

N.b. Upon discussion Jess is happy to drop the supplies by tomorrow and perhaps pick up a list of other medical equipment required. I also found a large basin of a strong green acid in my room with the label for Delving Deeper Into Dreams: OshLamar Winterglen. I assume that is a student of yours?

I'm sorry to hear you think the surgery was unnecessary. I assure you the tissue provided was not used for anything other than the analysis, as was written in the agreed disclaimer. Although I do praise you for your poetry skill after the surgery, I recommend refraining from your practise for just a little longer. It seems your cyborg capabilities may have superspeeded the recovery process... I'll write to the Robotics Institute for their opinion if you would like.

I firmly believe the surgery was necessary, as without it your creative skill would have been badly repressed. However, I welcome you to post regular updates with regard to your recovery. I wish you well and welcome you to return to the clinic if you have any questions.

Dr Krimsborg

It's something of a challenge to push Utora 7 into my examination room and also dodge the medics setting up the quarantine for the Strange Patterns victims (see the journal posts of the same name). An incredibly rare and annoying side effect of Fantasimira therapy is incoherent babbling and occasionally sinking through the ground, both of which Utora 7 is exhibiting.

During the study on Strange Patterns, my colleagues were kind enough to gift me a pair of Microgravity Maracas from our local Techno-Botanica (they're brilliant in my opinion AND they were on sale!). I offered these to Utora 7 and the floating effect managed to stop them being so damned heavy. Although now all they do is shake the maracas and giggle. It's something of an improvement.

I had to check for some alternative drugs but none quite suited a pyromancer with type IV. You see, most of the alternatives have the rather horrible side effect of making the user incredibly flammable. We would just have to find another drug which combated the incoherent babbles (and being so heavy).

I redid my usual checks and it revealed incredibly low ichor pressure which is not a side effect of Fantasimira, but is known for being a side effect of Psychicdelia, a terrible condition which spawned the Great Nonsense of '32, '77 and as recent as 2016 in the USA, resulting in several interesting political moves.

Purely in the interests of completeness, I spoke to Miriam, the local counsellor at PsyHigh. She informed me that she had done several sessions with Utora 7, and that they were going well. She recalled that Utora 7 had offhandedly complained of a sore neck after therapy sessions, but she assured me it is a perfectly normal sensation post therapy and highly unlikely to be linked to my patient's current predicament.

Deciding to hunt for a likely obscure drug, I contacted a friend in the research field. He was very helpful and told me about Spectrata, a type of syrup that was used to cure The Great Nonsense of '32. He says it wasn't effective against '77 or 2016 but that it worked well for this nonsense. It's worth a shot and incredibly simple to create.

Alchemy is very dull and often scary business (that's why I specialised into treating creatures and not making the medicines for them) but I eventually had a viable ampoule of Spectrata. Utora 7 was wary, but during one of the giggles I shoved the drug into their mouth and the glass shattered, flooding the tongue with the medicine.

Almost immediately the negative effects of the Fantasimiria began wearing off, with normal communication resulting in under five minutes. They thanked me profusely, admitting they didn't even realise that there was an issue. The words have a tendency to make sense to the speaker but not to anyone else.

I sent Utora 7 off with a new prescription for Fantasimiria along with one for Spectrata which I told them must be taken before the Fantasimiria. Miriam has promised to do some work to make sure the drugs remain on Utora 7's care plan within the school. The Psychic Dispensers Association should provide the medicines in due course.

I wonder how Anita is doing. I must book in her followup appointment soon, check those muscles over and perhaps a course of physiotherapy.

But that is for later.

Right now is time for spending some quality time with my son. I've been cooped up too much lately and he just wants to do some flying. I promised to take him to the local Airzone... time to make good on that promise.