Chapter 16
The walls in Dr. Kennedy’s office were a pale sky blue. Taylor was glad to see some other color for this cage. One night of staring at the plain white walls was maddening for Taylor and it made him wonder how he was supposed to recover when the walls made him feel even crazier than his presence in this place. He hoped that Dr. Kennedy would be nice, and would make him feel better than Dr. Turner had.
In Dr. Turner’s office the walls were a puke green color. Taylor waited there for almost an hour this morning while Dr. Turner took care of another bulimia patient who was not responding to her medication. When Dr. Turner finally immerged Taylor was shocked by his appearance. He had expected an older man with white hair and a stern face, but Dr. Turner was a young, handsome man of thirty with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes. He shook Taylor’s hand with a wide toothy smile on his face; he brought Taylor into the examining room and spoke to him for a moment about his background and then he told him to take off his clothes.
“What?” Taylor asked stuttering, praying he had heard wrong.
“I need you to undress for the examination.”
Taylor swallowed hard, but made no motion to undress.
“Listen,” Dr. Turner said with a understanding aura rising in his eyes, “I know that getting naked for someone you just met two minutes ago isn’t your idea of a good time; to be honest it isn’t mine either, but I have to examine you. I know me telling you not to be embarrassed probably doesn’t help, but you won’t be the first time I see anything. I guarantee you.”
Taylor didn’t think he could do it; every time he took his clothes off he was faced with dozens of frightening red and purple scars and the knowledge that the back of his legs were tinted an even more frightening shade of black and blue. Dr. Turner was staring at him, waiting for him to get undressed.
“Maybe it would be easier, if you left the room for a minute.”
“Okay, but I will be back in exactly sixty seconds.”
Taylor took a deep breath and took off his clothes before he could change his mind. He grabbed a towel from the sink in the corner and wrapped himself in it, just as Dr. Turner reentered the room.
He shined a small flashlight in his eyes, taking longer than necessary examining them, hoping Taylor would become more comfortable. When his breaths had become deeper the doctor put on his stethoscope and tugged the towel from Taylor’s body. Immediately his form became frigid. All the muscles in his body tightened and his breathing became more erratic. He squeezed his eyes and lips shut, not wanting to have to open them for fear he might cry out. Dr. Turner pretended not to notice and continued his examination. All the while Taylor kept seeing that awful night over and over again in his head. He did not feel the gentle gloved hands of the doctor, but the rough abusive hands of his attacker who continued to rape him even now.
Taylor felt tears welling in his eyes as he remembered, and than he heard his name.
“Taylor, Dr. Kennedy will see you now.”
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“Because my idea of fun was swallowing unprescribed medication?”
“Or because you actually believe that?”
Taylor shifted in his chair, “Touché.”
“You know Taylor, a lot of people, can and have made a lot of guesses about who you are because of what you have done to yourself, but just because someone dug it out of a book with big words doesn’t make it true.”
“I know, but why are you telling me that?”
“Because, I read in your face that you feel like so many people have put a label and a clinical diagnosis on your illness that it isn’t real anymore.” Dr Kennedy mused, “In your head you were starting to come to grips with all the terms, but the way the words ‘bulimic’, ‘self-injurer’, and ‘depressed’ rolled so easily off everyone else’s tongue’s made it seem like they all knew what it was, and that they had dealt with it, and were waiting, impatiently, for you to do the same.”
“I don’t have an illness.”
“What would you say is wrong than?”
“I don’t know,” Taylor said storming over to the window, “I am different and the world just couldn’t tolerate that…It’s my fault though, I took the pills, I let them know I was different and now they think they can fix me.”
“Who thinks they can fix you?”
“Everyone. They just don’t understand what I was living with, it’s hard enough to be different, but I wasn’t thinking too much about killing myself, but to be different and to be so scared, and so used…” Taylor trailed off, hoping the doctor would not pursue his last comment.
“Used Taylor?”
He struggled for cover, “Used up.”
“Like there was nothing left?”
“Yes, used up, like they took everything that meant anything away from me…”
“Than that’s why you’re here…So I can help you get it back.”
Taylor turned and wanting so much to have it all back, to believe that this would be like turning back the hands on the clock and all his lost seconds would be returned and he would he Jordan Taylor Hanson, playing his guitar on the tour bus and his piano on stage, penning new songs, laughing with his friends, wondering why he was Jordan Taylor and not Taylor Jordan, and holding Dawn on the Ferris wheel.
Lee raced down the corridor to the cafeteria. She hoped there would still be a seat left. She hated all these long sessions with the doctors, but she was getting worse. Her team of specialists seemed to grow every day. Lee hadn’t been able to eat since she visited Dr. Klein last night. He wanted to run some new tests that required her to fast. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem, but with no food her medication hit her body hard. By the time she reached the heavy doors of the cafeteria she could barely breathe.
“You all right Lee?” a young orderly sitting at a nearby desk asked.
She gave him a thumbs up, but began to feel her knees buckle. The orderly pulled her up just before she hit the floor.
“I’m alright John, really,” grabbing the frame of the door; “I just need to eat. These meds are killing me.”
“Can you make it alright?”
She nodded and he opened the door for her. She looked around for an empty seat, but didn’t see any. Lee walked around the room; she started to feel light-headed. Her knees were giving out again, she could feel it, but her brain was going numb; she couldn’t stop it.
“Whoa! Are you okay?” a slightly familiar voice said as a totally unfamiliar pair of hands pulled her up into a chair.
Everything was coming into focus; “Thomas?” she asked.
“Taylor.”
“I knew that,” she said letting her head fall back, “Everything is just a little fuzzy.”
Taylor watched her roll her head back as she stretched out her body. He wondered if she was going to have a seizure, but she just rubbed her eyes.
“I’m sorry Taylor; I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, “My medication knocks me out when I don’t eat.”
Taylor pushed a bowl of chicken soup at her and smiled, “Well, you better eat than.”
“I will, but not that,” she smiled back, “They’ll never let you out of here if you don’t eat.”
“I did eat, I swear, I just didn’t eat that.”
Lee cautiously took the soup from him and began to eat, “So, if I remember correctly, today is your second day here; that means it’s ‘doctor day’ for you…how did it go?”
Taylor’s cheeks tinted pink, “Alright I guess.”
“Who are your doctors?”
“Dr. Turner and Dr. Kennedy.”
“Ooh, the best of the bunch,” she smiled slurping her soup, “Seriously, Dr. Turner is a saint. His sister was anorexic and she died when he was fifteen; that’s when he decided he wanted to be a doctor. I’ve never met Dr. Kennedy, but people say he’s great, and he must be. He’s one of the only three psychiatrists who, while working here, never had a patient commit suicide.”
“That’s reassuring…”
“Yeah,” she whispered, “That’s how I got here, the bruise around my neck…I tried to hang myself. I was rescued though, so about the only thing that happened to me was some damaged vocal cords, which you can probably tell…”
“No,” he lied with a sad smile, “I can’t…That’s how I got here too though. I took a lot of Demerol.”
“What a happy conversation this is,” she said standing up, “You want to continue it in the living room area?”
Taylor thought of Dawn. He hated being with other girls. Even though he and Dawn had no relationship, he always felt unfaithful around other girls, but he smiled, thinking, hoping Dawn would want him to do this, “Sure.”