| Chapter 34 "Hello?" "Hey John, it's Diane." "Hey, what's up?" he asked. "Um I'm calling because we need to cancel Nick's session today," she said. "Oh? Is something wrong?" he asked. "Yeah, well you know how depressed he's been lately," she started. "Yeah, he has seemed kinda down," John agreed. "Well, it's more than that. I'm really worried about him. He's not eating, not sleeping.... he ... he's really starting to scare me. Anyway, I finally got him to agree to see someone and the only time they could get us in was this afternoon," she explained. "Oh hey, no problem. I guess I didn't realize how bad it was," John said, somewhat shocked. "Yeah, I think he tries to put on a good front, but he's falling apart John. I've watched him turn into someone I barely know ... I just hope that maybe the doctor can help," she said. "What do you think is wrong?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "Well, he had some really bad things happen to him when he was younger and lately he's been remembering a lot of it. At least that's what he tells me anyway, but I just feel like there's more to it ya know?" Diane answered. "Yeah, well let me know how things go, and call if you need me, K?" John said. "I will, thanks," Diane said as she hung up. John threw the phone on the bed and sat down putting his head in his hands, "If you say anything Nick I swear you'll regret it." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nick walked downstairs, already nervous about the doctor visit. He didn't know what he was going to say. He was afraid the doctor would see right through him, know he wasn't telling the whole truth somehow. Diane met him at the bottom of the stairs and hugged him, "It'll be OK. I'll be with you the whole time and if you don't feel like saying anything you don't have to, alright?" He nodded, grabbing his computer as they walked into the garage. Misha went with them as she often did when they went out in public. Nick felt more confident with her there, knowing that she would alert him in time of an impending seizure. Diane looked at the instructions one more time before backing down the drive. Nick's medical physician highly recommended Dr. McKenna and helped get Nick an appointment. He also forwarded Nick's medical records to him, so Dr. McKenna would have some background on his injuries and how much Nick's life had changed in the recent months. It didn't take long to reach the doctor's office, and Nick was relieved to see the waiting room was empty when they walked in. He could just see it � �Backstreet Boy seeks help from shrink after tragic accident' all over the local news papers if someone recognized him. Diane went to the receptionist and came back with what looked like a book of paperwork for Nick to fill out. Diane worked on the basic patient information while Nick tackled the two hundred question survey. Supposedly it was going the give the doctor an idea of Nick's state of mind, with questions like, In the last two weeks have you thought about harming yourself or others? Nick had to laugh, Who would answer yes to that, even if it was true? That's a straight ticket to the looney bin. He finally finished and handed all the papers over to the receptionist. She told them it would be a few minutes, and took Nick's file back for the doctor to review. Nick picked Misha up and placed her on his lap, petting her. He was nervous as hell about this, and needed something to get his mind off where he was. Diane reached over and squeezed him arm, trying to reassure him. After several minutes the receptionist called Nick back. He followed the woman into a plush office. "Take a seat, the doctor will be in, in a moment," she said. Nick and Diane sat down in front of the large desk and waited. "Wow, this is nice," Diane commented. Nick nodded, opening up his computer: Maybe I got into the wrong business huh? Diane laughed, "No, I think you got into the right business, although this would be a good backup plan." Nick smiled, looking around. There were several plaques and diplomas on the wall. There was a couch on one side of the office, the desk and chairs in front of it. A small refrigerator in the corner and lots and lots of bookshelves filled with the latest psychobabble. The longer Nick sat there, the more intimidated he was feeling. He finally found a spot on the floor and stared at it, needing something nonthreatening to focus on for a moment. He looked up when Dr. McKenna entered the room. He was a short man, around Brian's height, Nick guessed. Probably in his late fifties with graying brown hair and a goatee. "Hello, I'm Dr. McKenna," he said, extending his hand first to Diane then to Nick. "Hi, I'm Diane and this is Nick," she said. Dr. McKenna smiled, "And who is this?" he asked, seeing Misha laying on the floor at Nick's feet. "Oh that's Misha. She's Nick's service dog," Diane said. "Ah yes, I read about the seizures. Do they seem to be under control?" he asked. "As controlled as I think they can be," Diane replied. "That's good," he said, sitting behind his desk and flipping through Nick's chart. "So Nick, can you tell me why you're here?" he asked. Nick bit his lip and fidgeted in his seat for a moment, then sat his computer on the desk and typed: I'm having trouble dealing with something that happened to me a few years ago. "I see. Can you tell me what that was?" Dr. McKenna asked. Nick looked over at Diane, a pleading look on his face. "It's alright, he's here to help you," she told him. "Nick, have you ever been to a psychiatrist before?" Dr. McKenna asked. Nick shook his head. "OK, well let me tell you that anything said in here, stays in here. I'm not here to judge you, I'm here to help you work through what's bothering you, alright? It's OK if you don't feel like talking to me. I know it takes a lot for people to even get this far, to even seek help. So I don't expect you to spill your heart out on the first visit. All I ask is that you give this a chance, OK?" he said. Nick looked up at him and nodded, then started typing on his computer. I was sexually abused when I was 13 and recently the memories have come back, he typed. Dr. McKenna read the screen, "Oh I see. When did the memories start?" About a month ago, Nick typed. "Was there some event that triggered this?" he asked. Nick shook his head. "So they just started coming back on their own then?" he asked. Nick bit his lip, praying the doctor didn't see right through him, "Y-yes." The doctor leaned back in his chair and looked over at Diane, "Can you tell me what Nick's behavior has been like in the last few weeks?" Diane glanced at Nick, then back to the doctor, "Well, at first he would just get this far away look every once in a while. But now his mood's changed, he's sad all the time. He's not been sleeping, and when he does he has nightmares. He barely eats, and he's kinda isolated himself from his friends and family." Dr. McKenna wrote a few notes in Nick's chart, "Nick, do you think you're depressed?" Nick looked down at his feet, biting his lip to keep it from quivering and nodded. "Do you feel like you might try to harm yourself?" the doctor asked. Nick turned his head and looked out the windows, shrugging his shoulders. He hated to admit it, but the thought had crossed his mind in the last few days. He wasn't going to tell the doctor what was happening to him, but maybe he could get some help for what it was causing him to consider. Dr. McKenna leaned forward on the desk and clasp his hands in front of him, "Here's what I'm gonna do. I want to start you on anti-depressants. They won't interfere with the medication you're taking now, and I'm hoping they will pull you out of this all consuming darkness you seem to be in. Also, I want to set up regular visits, at least three times a week to start." "Starting when?" Diane asked. "I'd like to start tomorrow," he answered, "Is that alright with you Nick?" Nick looked back over and nodded, then typed: I have to come in the mornings. I have speech therapy in the afternoons. "I'm sure we can do that," Dr. McKenna said, pulling out a prescription pad and scribbling on it. "I'm writing you a prescription for 25mg of Zoloft once a day. I want you to pick it up on your way home and take your first dose tonight," he said, handing the paper to Diane. "Also, here's my card. It has the office and my messenger service on it. If you need anything, if you feel like you want to harm yourself, call me. No matter what time day or night, OK?" he said. Nick nodded, taking the card. "Alright, I'll have Martha schedule your appointments and then you can leave," he said, standing up. He headed toward the door then stopped, turning back to Nick, "There's no overnight cure for this, but I'm sure if you give this a chance, I can help." "Thank you," Diane said, as he left the room. After a few moments Dr. McKenna came back in with Nick's appointment schedule for the next two weeks. Then with a few more words of encouragement from the doctor, Nick and Diane were on their way. Diane headed straight for the pharmacy, getting the prescription filled, then drove them home. Nick was somewhat relieved. It hadn't been the awful experience he thought it was going to be. And although he didn't feel any better emotionally, he saw that maybe he could in time. That gave him some glimmer of hope to cling to. Diane made supper and they ate quietly. She seemed more attentive than usual, and Nick knew it was because she was scared he might really do something to hurt himself. He stared blankly at his food, pushing it around in his plate with his fork. "You don't feel like eating?" she asked. He shook his head. Diane reached over and put her hand over his, "Please, just eat a little, otherwise your medicine's gonna make you sick." Nick sighed, forcing himself to eat. He ate as much as he could, which turned out to be only about four bites, then took his medicine and settled in on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels. Diane cleaned the kitchen, glancing at him every once in a while. He looked so lost and it was breaking her heart, but at least he was trying. At least he went to the doctor, that was something. She knew he was depressed, but his admission at the doctors office threw her. She had to fight to keep from breaking down, not realizing he was that bad. She put the last dish in the dish washer and turned it on, reaching for the phone. "Hello." "Hi, it's me again," she said. "Hey, how was the doctor visit?" John asked. "OK, he put Nick on some anti-depressants and he starts out going three times a week," she answered. "Oh, OK," John said. "He's going in the mornings so we shouldn't have to change your schedule any," she said. "Well we can if we need to. Whatever it takes to get him well, I'll do," John said. "Thanks John, anyway I um kinda wanted to give you a heads up on something," Diane said. "Yeah, what's that?" he asked. "Well, Nick's even more depressed than I thought. The doc asked him if he thought he might hurt himself and he shrugged his shoulders, like he'd been thinking about it or something," she said. "Damn," John said, under his breath. "Anyway, just make sure you don't leave him alone while you're here, please. I may be overreacting to this, but I don't know what I'd do if I lost him," she said, fighting the tears welling up in her eyes. "Aw sweetie, you won't lose him. And I'll watch him, don't worry," John said. "Thanks," she said, "Well I'll let you go, see you tomorrow." "Alright hon, call if you need anything," John said, hanging up the phone. He walked over to the window and looked out. He knew Nick's condition was his fault and that he should probably just walk away now. But he couldn't. He was so obsessed that walking away wasn't even an option. "I never wanted it to be this way. All I wanted was for him to love me, now look what I've done to him," he cried. John looked over at the poster of Nick he had on his wall, "I'm sorry Nick, but I can't stop. I love you so much that not to have you is a death sentence for me and I can't allow that to happen. I won't." Chapter 35 |