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Authors: Dorothy Phaire

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BOOK: Blind Delusion
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Sunlight from the window bathed the buff-colored walls of her office with a warm, golden luster. A carved wooden shelf, full of books and statuettes, stood over the credenza. The credenza had been her Aunt Clara’s family heirloom years ago before she passed away. Degrees and professional certifications were positioned above her chair for patients to easily view. Two floral, chintz wing back chairs surrounded a cream-colored sofa that blended with the copper and beige needlepoint rug underneath it. Renee’s office was decorated as a safe refuge for both herself and her patients who came to share their stories and reveal their pain.

Since it was ten minutes to nine, she figured Brenda must have been working diligently for twenty minutes. Renee felt lucky to have Brenda as her secretary. At first she wasn’t sure things would work out. Even though she came highly recommended by Cha-Cha, Brenda didn’t have office experience, plus she had gotten pregnant just two months into the position. Brenda had begged Renee not to replace her because she needed the job and intended to return to work six weeks after her baby was born. Brenda worked right up to her delivery date and proved to be a fast learner just as Cha-Cha had promised. Despite Cha-Cha and Brenda’s on-again, off-again friendship through the years, Cha-Cha said Brenda was honest and reliable. Renee took a chance and hired her. Instead of paying for six weeks maternity leave as was the employer standard, Renee paid for twelve weeks. She understood the importance of early bonding between mother and newborn. Nothing, especially a job, should interfere with that maternal connection.

Now Brenda showed her appreciation by being dependable and arriving before office visits to make sure Renee had time to relax and review patient records. She had also taken on the time-consuming task of inputting all the manual files into the computer and coding them for easy retrieval. Renee found out about a program that would handle the management of patient records. Brenda followed the tutorial, read the user’s guide, and was now a pro at using the software. Even with a new baby and all the demands of running a home, Renee was impressed to learn that Brenda had recently enrolled in a weekend computer course at a nearby community college that offered adult continuing education classes. She told Renee she wanted to get more technical training and improve her job skills.

Renee glanced at the stack of files on her desk that she needed to review before the first patient arrived at 9:30. It could wait a few more minutes she decided. There was also a large pink envelope on top of the patient files. From the flowery handwriting Renee guessed it was a birthday card from Brenda. Since she was out yesterday, she probably had left the card on Renee’s desk this morning. While the music lifted her spirits and the coffee stimulated her, Renee gazed out the window at the multi-colored, October leaves. A deer posed among the trees for a split second before vaulting from sight. Renee thought about how deer roamed through the suburban neighborhoods in Maryland and Virginia, as well as throughout the outlying residential areas of Washington, D. C. Rapid housing development had bulldozed nearly every inch of their habitat so there was nowhere else for them to go.

Renee then settled down in the leather burgundy chair behind her desk and flipped through the stack of files to see what lay ahead for next week: major depressive disorders, identity confusions, attempted suicides, bereavement, histrionic personality disorders, and marital counseling, as well as a prospective new patient for today. Those sessions covered only some of her full patient caseload. She felt her life had become too complicated. Just then Brenda’s voice came through on the intercom.

“Excuse me, Dr. Renee. Your first patient and her parents are outside in the waiting area. They arrived a little early so I got them started on the new patient forms.”

“Please ask them to wait until I’ve read their daughter’s file.” Dr. Renee drank a few more sips of coffee and reviewed her notes. The case involved a family in crisis that needed immediate intervention. The situation was discovered when the student’s ninth-grade teacher reported her suspicions to a school guidance counselor. The Office of School Administration for Montgomery County high schools then referred the student and her family to Renee. The student’s guidance counselor had met with Dr. Renee last week and gave her a detailed report on the case.

As a therapist, Dr. Renee had seen this scenario played out many times before. A family in turmoil because of an unwanted teenage pregnancy. Many middle-class to well-off parents gave their children material possessions but were too busy with their own lives to monitor the teenagers in their home. In this case, the mother, Mrs. Hope Hollingsworth worked full-time as a Marketing vice-president for a telecommunications company and Mr. Hollingsworth, the father, was a senior accountant at a large investment firm. The parents recently learned from the guidance counselor that their 15 year-old daughter, Heather, was already four months pregnant. Renee studied the case notes but as she read her mind began to wander back to the summer of 1972 when she herself became pregnant at 16.

Nothing before had ever triggered the long-forgotten memories of that summer and released her pent-up emotions. The psychoanalytical word for her memory lapses was disassociation and apparently that is what she had done. Her aunt’s harsh words, the empty feelings had all been blocked out, but there was something about the words used in the report, the description of the domineering mother, the feeling of lost control and manipulation that brought this particular family’s problems too close to home for Renee.

When her Aunt Clara had found out that sixteen-year old Renee was pregnant, she’d immediately taken charge of the situation. Everything happened so quickly. The very next day after Renee’s admission of guilt, she was on a train headed to a remote cottage tucked away in the countryside of York, Pennsylvania. Renee didn’t realize what the doctor intended to do to her. Hours later when she woke up from the anesthesia, Aunt Clara said the ‘problem’ had been resolved. Aunt Clara warned her never to speak of the incident again. Renee’s fear, confusion, and guilt had sealed the memory far back into the deep recesses of her mind. When she read the report on her new patient, 15 year-old Heather Hollingsworth, that day in June 1972 slowly began to resurface despite her efforts to stop the memories from flooding her thoughts.

Dr. Renee closed her eyes and massaged her temple. She couldn’t fight off her mental screen’s projection of the broad-shouldered, ample figure of her long deceased Aunt Clara. Aunt Clara stood rigidly, clothed in the same outfit she always wore, even in the summer—black, cotton shirtwaist dress with a high-neck, rounded white collar. Far safer to stare at the foreboding figure’s garment than the turned down corners of her mouth, the sagging jawline, and dark, vacant eyes sunk into a hardened, brown face that glared down at her. Dr. Renee snapped open her eyes and Aunt Clara's form suddenly vanished. She took several deep breathes to calm down and tried to prepare herself emotionally for the Hollingsworth’s first visit as best she could.

At precisely 9:30, she pressed the intercom for Brenda to allow the Hollingsworth family to enter her office. Dr. Renee greeted the solemn-faced trio and invited them to sit down. Mr. and Mrs. John and Hope Hollingsworth, both dressed in expensive-looking clothing, sat on the double chintz wingbacks in front of her desk. Their daughter, Heather slouched her heavy frame on the sofa at the far end, as far away from everyone as she could get. The round, innocent, apple-cheeked face looked younger than its 15 years. Lank, mouse-colored brown hair hung about her face and almost reached the small of her back. The mane of flowing hair shaded her ivory-complexioned face. Dr. Renee noticed that she hid behind a shield of hair.

The lost and frightened young girl appeared exactly as the counselor had depicted her. Heather was a big girl who according to her school counselor usually wore baggy, oversized clothes. Her parents apparently had not noticed she was pregnant. She had been missing school and sleeping in class. The guidance counselor discovered that Heather was already 16 weeks pregnant when she finally got the girl to open up to her. The counselor tried to reach the parents for several weeks until finally the mother’s secretary returned the counselor’s calls, and then the counselor had been able to set up this appointment with Dr. Renee. Mrs. Hollingsworth sat stone-faced with her legs crossed and hands folded rigidly in her lap. She did all the talking, spilling out a frenzied, thirty-minute commentary on what needed to be done immediately to correct this deplorable situation.

To make matters worse, Renee found out that Heather was pregnant by her first cousin. For the past several months, Mrs. Hollingsworth’s 17 year-old nephew had been staying with them in their Potomac, Maryland home while he completed his senior year at Heather’s high school. According to Mrs. Hollingsworth, her nephew had always been a problem kid whose parents were worthless drifters, so she eventually got stuck with taking him in because no other relative wanted to be bothered with him anymore. Both her nephew and daughter were minors and blood relatives. This presented a major complication for the family, in addition to the teenage pregnancy. When Mrs. Hollingsworth found out about her daughter’s pregnancy and who was responsible, she immediately kicked her nephew out of her house. She told Renee that at this point she really didn’t care what became of her nephew.

Mrs. Hollingsworth insisted that a decision had to be made soon about the 'problem' before Heather reached her sixth month when it would be too late to end the pregnancy. None of the clinics she contacted in the Washington, D. C. Metropolitan area would perform late term abortions after 24 weeks, the third trimester.

“Dr. Hayes, I need your help in convincing this stubborn child to see reason. She’s only 15 for godsakes! If she doesn’t agree to go through with the procedure soon, we’ll end up spending more time and money flying out to another state where they can do late-term abortions.”

“Money can’t fix everything, Hope,” said Mr. Hollingsworth in an exasperated tone.

“Maybe not but it can sure fix this mess,” snapped Mrs. Hollingsworth.

After that one outburst, her husband stumbled back into his seemingly well-rehearsed silence while his wife continued to dominate the session. If she couldn’t get her daughter to agree to have the abortion in time, they would have to go out of state to a place that approved them. Mrs. Hollingsworth said she felt this would be even more traumatic for Heather. She feared it might be too late if they didn’t act within the next few weeks. More than once she emphasized that the problem needed to be solved immediately.

“What do
you
want to do Heather?” asked Renee gently when she could finally squeeze a full sentence into the conversation. After a brief silence the girl replied.

“Don’t know,” she mumbled while shrugging her shoulders.

Heather had been quiet throughout the session. She had kept her chin pressed to her chest and her blue eyes cast downward. Renee proposed to the parents that if they agreed to subsequent private sessions after this initial meeting, Renee could focus on Heather in order to find out what the child’s true feelings were and what she wanted to do. Then based on what Heather wanted she would try to get her to think about how it would all work if she decided to give birth. For instance, if she wanted to have her baby and keep it, how did she see herself being able to care for a baby and what support avenues would she have? In preparation for their first session, Renee had researched several support organizations that Heather could turn to. She discovered that Adopt A Child helped young, teenage girls with babies to stay in school. The organization taught the young mothers sexual responsibility, counseling, and parenting skills. During their weekly sessions, Renee would plan to include the parents periodically to strengthen the family’s communication. Then parents and daughter could decide what to do and what the consequences of their choice would be. This approach would take much longer than what she feared Mrs. Hollingsworth expected.

“What difference does it make what she wants?” said Mrs. Hollingsworth, “I’m her mother and I know what’s best for her. Besides,” she continued, “she and my nephew are cousins so marriage is not an option. I just can’t see the sense in ruining two people’s lives.”

“What two people do you mean, Mrs. Hollingsworth?” asked Renee, wondering if she meant Heather’s and her nephew’s future.

“Why Heather’s and mine, of course,” said Mrs. Hollingsworth.

“There’s just no other choice for her, Dr. Hayes. Adoption is out of the question because nobody wants to adopt a possibly retarded baby whose parents are first cousins!”

Mrs. Hollingsworth began to produce tearless sobs. Heather shifted in her seat and gave her mother a darting glare. While Mr. Hollingsworth patted his wife’s hand and reached for a tissue out of the box that Renee held out to his wife. Mrs. Hollingsworth snatched the tissue from her husband’s hand and began carefully dabbing at her eyes without smudging her eyeliner.

“I’ve been under a lot of pressure at work lately. I might lose my $20,000 year-end bonus because our department hasn’t met its quotas. Having Heather pregnant at 15, by
her cousin
no less, is just too much for me to deal with right now.”

Mrs. Hollingsworth startled everyone when she jumped up from the chair and confronted her daughter, pointing a finger in her daughter’s face as she ranted, “Can’t you see how you’re ruining your life!”

At that moment, Renee’s breathing became shallow as she struggled to catch her breath. She placed a hand to her heart and felt her heart beating rapidly. No one noticed her obvious discomfort because all eyes were focused on Mrs. Hollingsworth as she continued to chastise her daughter. Instead of hearing Mrs. Hollingsworth’s high-pitched, annoying voice, Renee’s mind played back the angry, authoritative voice of Aunt Clara who had spoken those very same words to Renee, “Can’t you see how you’re ruining your life!” This had never happened to Renee before. She had always been able to focus completely on her patients during a session. Suddenly, she found herself thrown back in time. Back twenty-nine years ago where vivid scenes from her own life at sixteen intruded on her consciousness.
She felt as if she were going to pass out, and clutched the edges of her desk. She knew she had to hold it together. She could not allow herself to breakdown in front of her clients. These people expected her to tell
them
how to feel better. But how could she do that when her entire world was falling apart?

BOOK: Blind Delusion
13.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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