“Take some painkillers and drink plenty of water. We’ve only got a few patients today so as soon as we get the first two taken care of you can go home early and sleep it off. But…” And I point a finger at him. “Just don’t make a habit out of it, my friend.”
He crosses his heart. “Swear on my favorite brown plaid jacket.”
Scrunching my nose, I walk into my office. “I hate that jacket. Make sure I don’t get it!”
He laughs as I close the door behind him. “Gotcha, doc.”
I sigh deeply and stroll across my office, my eyes once again caught by the magnificent view outside of my office windows. The mountain range outside the window looms in the distance, peaked with snow at this time of year. A heavy snowfall hit a little early and topped my favorite view with sparkling white that the sunrise colors with golden peach and ivory gold, lavender blue and red. My breath hitches in my throat.
Lord, what a sight. I never get tired of it.
I turn back to my stainless steel desk topped with my computer and files for the day. I flop into the creamy white leather chair and boot up the computer, fidgeting when it feels like it takes too long.
When it finally comes up, I quickly access my files and jot notes on some of my cases from yesterday. I feel like I’ve made a breakthrough with one of my patients. She’s finally admitted to me that her boyfriend has been abusing her for the last year and I’ve tried to get her to understand it’s not her fault and there’s so much more out there for her than what he’s giving her. Bruises and busted-up lips, broken bones. None of that stuff should be normal for anyone unless you’re a professional boxer. Or mixed martial arts. Not from the one who claims to love you.
This case has had me on edge because I’ve seen that it looks like things are escalating and I’m worried about her safety but I can’t say anything unless I feel like she’s in imminent danger.
So I just keep encouraging her, working with her and hoping that she realizes that life shouldn’t be like this.
I hear my first patient come in and talk to Grey and his laughing response.
Clicking out of the files, I stand up and pick up the other patient’s files, putting them in the bottom drawer of my desk. I have to make sure that I keep everyone’s files as well-guarded as I can. Doctor-patient confidentiality is of utmost importance in my business. I take it damn seriously.
I walk slowly to the door and tug my skirt back into place, sighing. My lush curves don’t necessarily like to stay locked in the fitted pencil skirts that I favor for work. But I like the look and I tolerate the constant tug and pull to keep them skating over my wide hips and thick thighs.
Throwing the door open, I smile widely and hold my hand out to Edgar. “Great to see you, Edgar. How are you feeling today?”
He follows me inside and I shut the door, waving him over to the couch that he usually favors instead of one of the plush armchairs that flanks it on both sides. The thick navajo rug muffles both of our steps and I follow him, settling in my chair across from him, grabbing my notepad from the side table.
“Alright, Edgar. Let’s go back to the first time you felt that nauseous feeling when you thought about going home.”
I let him go, smiling and nodding, jotting down a few notes and making noncommittal sounds of sympathy. Sometimes that’s all a patient requires. But some of them take a lot of work to get through to them. To let them know that this is a safe space and they’re free to tell me anything and I won’t judge them. I’m just here to help them.
We finish up and I see that Cynthia’s outside and ready to go. I shake Edgar’s hand and he smiles.
“Thanks, doc. I really appreciate your insight.”
I smile, nodding, knowing I didn’t provide anything for him today but someone to listen to him.
“I’m so happy I can help. Make sure and set up your next appointment with Grey. He nods and walks over to Grey’s desk and I let Cynthia in the door, closing it softly behind her. She jumps anyway.
“I’m so sorry, Cynthia. I didn’t mean to spook you like that. Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat and we’ll get started.” I sit down and pull out my notebook. “Have you had any more of those dreams?”
She nods, her teeth nibbling her lips. “Yeah. Almost the same. And there’s a man that keeps showing up in them over and over. I know I know him but I don’t know where from and I wake up and miss him. It’s so painful, it’s almost real.”
“Well, have you seen his face? They usually say that you don’t make up faces so if you saw this guy, you most likely know him or have met him somewhere.”
And the next hour passes with Cynthia delving into his description and trying to figure out what the dreams mean and who this man is.
“I’m so sorry, Cynthia, but our time is up.” She stands up and smiles.
“Thank you, doctor. I know we didn’t figure it all out but I always feel better just talking to you about this.”
I smile and take her hand, shaking it. Then I lead her to the door. “I think we’re making excellent progress on this. I feel like it’s someone you know from when you were a child, maybe. I still think there is every possibility we’ll figure this out.”
“Thank you. I’ve been sleeping much better. I practice the breathing exercises that you taught me. It definitely helps and I keep the journal you told me to so I can remember what happened in the dreams.”
“That’s terrific! And you feel like it’s helping?”