My first wife used to get depressed. I'd leave for work in the morning and she was happy as a lark. We'd been "close" that morning and she would have adoration written all over her face as we hugged and said good-bye with a peck on the cheek. I'd walk up the hill thinking life doesn't get better than this. Then four hours later I'd return home for lunch to a person that wouldn't even talk to me. She wouldn't even tell me what was wrong.
I don't know this woman's frame of mind when he left. She may have been totally fine one minute and wigged out the next. I dont' know.
I can tell you that when I was a young parent I used to think my own shortcomings were the cause for the depression. It wasn't until decades later that I realized it was a medical problem for which she never recieved treatment.
I realize that depression is different than skitzoid maladies, but I'll bet they come and go in about the same manner. I'd be willing to bet that if this woman's charts were opened up, there'd be a wealth of information that should have prevented this tragedy.
Groups sessions, private interviews and the history of the patient had to have been ignored by the professionals in this case. I'd like to know where this physician obtained his license. Where was he from? I'll bet there's a story waiting to be reported here.