Chapter 2: In Control
(Janet's POV)

Well, the good news is that we are back at the SGC and Colonel O'Neill is expected to make a complete recovery though it will probably be more than two months before I can even think of clearing him for active duty and I know that's not going to be easy... for any of us. He will get bored, he will get impatient, he will fight me and the whole base will probably end up paying for it as soon as he starts feeling a little better because --unlike Sam and Daniel-- he doesn't really have anything else to keep himself busy with while he heals, to say nothing of the fact that he has all the patience of a five year-old and I'm not a pediatrician.

Still, considering the shape he was in when they got him out of that cave I think I can live with him being a pain in the ass. Right now he is stable, the internal bleeding is under control, there is no evidence of frostbite and his temperature is almost back to normal. That means I can turn my attention back to my other patient, the one who also happens to be my best friend. Sure, I know that from a medical perspective Sam's condition was never even serious --just a mild case of hypothermia and some cuts and bruises-- but that doesn't mean there is no cause for concern there because I am fairly certain that this whole experience has left her feeling more than a little shaken. In fact I suspect that by now she has probably managed to come up with about a dozen different ways to blame herself for what happened. Sure, there may have been nothing she could possibly have done to prevent the gate's malfunction in the first place but that does nothing to change the fact that she is not one to take well to being powerless and that is a problem.

The thing is that as far as I can tell she is almost obsessive about staying in control of... well, pretty much everything. That is not so unusual but at times she does take it to the extreme. As far as she is concerned everything has a scientific explanation, an explanation that leaves no room for error and that includes human error. The only problem with that theory is that she is still human and all the rationalizations in the world can't change that so there's no way for her to live up to her own standards. She can't change the fact that no matter how hard she tries there's just no way to translate from feelings to equations, just like she can't accept that --almost by definition-- feelings aren't logical. That, I suspect, is going to cause a problem here because if I know Sam she is busy even now second-guessing herself and coming up with all kinds of scenarios that should have enabled her to save the day --and the colonel-- in a perfectly logical fashion.

Sometimes I wonder if that side of her has always been there or if it only came to be as a consequence of the loss of control that represented what happened on Simarka. The truth is that I'll probably never know but if I had to guess I would say that it is probably a combination of both. Given her line of work I would say that her need to explain everything by scientific means isn't likely to be something new --not to mention that if there had been such a drastic change in her personality someone would probably have noticed almost immediately-- but at the same time I think it is highly likely that that trait has been exacerbated in recent months. After all that is only logical after what she went through because at the time rationalizations were bound to be far less painful than emotions.

Of course, the question is, if that is the case, will that change become something permanent or will she eventually get over it and allow herself to relax, to accept that she doesn't always have to be in control... and if she can't relax, is that likely to be a serious problem in the long run? I really have no way of knowing and, even if I did, the truth is that I have no way to do anything about it.

That is not an easy concept for me to come to terms with, far from it. I am a doctor and when I see someone hurting I'm used to being able to do something about it, even if that something isn't always enough --and that is particularly true when it comes to my friends, professional detachment be damned-- but this time around there is nothing I can do. Simarka happened and there's no way for me to make it unhappen or to rationalize it away --like Sam's been trying to do-- so the most I can hope to accomplish here is to be there for my friend. Whether I like it or not she is the one who has to fight her way out of the hole here and there is nothing I can do but to offer some encouragement.

The thing is that I can clearly remember what it was like to be the one trying to make it out and it was anything but fun, though the circumstances were different. Back when I first got divorced I was a mess. I had been under my husband's thumb for years --having to ask for permission to do something as basic as buy myself a pair of shoes and then being made to feel guilty for daring to want something for myself-- that by the time I finally gathered the courage to leave I didn't even know who I was. I had been putting myself second for so long that I couldn't really imagine doing anything else, that I had a hard time coming to terms with something as basic as the fact that my life was actually mine.

Sure, in a way that sounds incredibly ordinary and I know it can't even begin to compare to what Sam's been going through but the thing is that I do remember what it was like to feel that I was drowning, that I couldn't even tell which way was up... and I also remember how at the time I was desperately trying to cling to anything that could possibly provide me with some semblance of order amidst the chaos. That is the part I suspect is not all that different from Sam's current need to rationalize everything.

The thing is that I really wish I could help her but I can't. In the end this is her hole to crawl out of and there's nothing I can do to change that. That is the part I find so incredibly frustrating: the part where I can do nothing but watch from the sidelines... the part where I have no choice but to admit that Sam is probably not the only one around here who has yet to come to terms with the fact that she can't control absolutely everything around her.