Life After (7 page)

Today is D-Day a.k.a. doctor day.
Yay. Not. The problem with going to the doctors is well—they are doctors. I never used to have an issue with them but now I get a case of the shakes just thinking about going there.

“You can do this. You are a strong woman. Are you a woman or a mouse? It’s a stupid doctor’s office.” Staring at myself in the mirror while giving myself my pep talk that honestly really doesn’t help I breathe in deeply.

This time it only took me ten minutes to get into the car and no medicine, only one paper bag to breathe in repeatedly, but I’m in the car and it’s moving and I’m not trying to jump out of it. Granted my eyes are shut but let’s focus on the fact that I’m in the car.

Fortunately, the drive to the doctor’s office doesn’t take very long. I’m not sure how I feel about the stitches coming out. It feels wrong
I’m  in the getting better physically stage. Stupid I know. With much trepidation I reluctantly get out of the car and wait for Jenny to bring me my crutches.

Walking into the doctor’s office the antiseptic smell hits me straight in the face it’s like walking into an invisible wall of smell. You know that hospital smell? Trying not to inhale by holding my breath I cough and end up inhaling the smell deeply and that sets off all sorts of alarms in my mind. I feel my heart starting to gallop. I have to get out of that office, turning I leave my aunt without a word and walk back out the door letting it slam shut.

Leaning against the wall I start counting back from one hundred, trying to ward off the panic. That smell has been etched in my memory since I woke up in the hospital. My heart continues to pound and all I want is to leave. My fight or flight response is begging me to get out now. Looking towards the glowing red exit sign I start to walk towards it. I’m not sure I can handle this appointment without having another panic attack. I feel someone’s hand on my shoulder and look over to see Jenny standing there.

“What happened?”

“It’s the smell, I can’t handle the smell. It brings back so many God awful memories. I can’t go back in there.” I grab her arm, fingernails digging in as I plead with her to let me go. She looks at my hands and grimaces. “Don’t make me go back in there, please?”

Peeling my hands off her arm she looks down at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry sweetie you’ve got to go in.” Running her fingers through my hair, she says, “You have to do this. You are a strong young lady and you can do this.” She maneuvers me back towards the waiting room. Slowly with my head down and her hand now attached to my arm I reluctantly walk back into the waiting room, trying not to concentrate on the smell.

We check in and find seats next to magazines only about a year old. I have this nervous energy around me that makes my leg tremble. Jenny puts her hand on my leg to stop it from tapping the floor. Looking over at her I mouth sorry and start to bite the skin on my thumb instead. Finally after what feels like forever the nurse calls my name and I go to the back room. The doctor walks in jovially, he’s an older man with very little hair and glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. He looks so creepy that I resist the urge to jump off the table. What is wrong with me? Geez get a grip.

“Hello, Hadley, I’m Doctor Finley,” he says it in this gruff voice as he holds out his hand for me to shake.

Taking his cold hand into mine I smile and nod silently. I’m way too nervous to talk it’s all I can do to get sick right here in front of the doctor. Swallowing uneasily I follow him with my eyes as I watch him picking up the chart and reading it over making hmming noises and writing some things down. Wishing I could see what he was writing I find myself leaning forward as if I could magically see what he has written. Finally he puts his pen down and really looks at me.

“So how are you holding up?”

That’s a great question,
I think. Now do I be honest with him or do I fib and tell him I’m fine? I think back to my mom and how she said that it is better to tell a hundred truths than one lie and know what I have to do. No matter how badly it makes me feel.

Looking down at my legs I fiddle with a loose thread on my skirt looking up I glance at the doctors name tag, looking at the block letters I start speaking softly, “I wish I knew how I felt about everything it’s  all so jumbled.” Not able to look him in the eye I look at a poster of the food pyramid on the wall. “My emotions feel like a jigsaw. I’m sad, happy, mad, and angry all the freaking time. I don’t understand why I’m still alive half the time and don’t feel like I should be.” I shouldn’t tell him that but the words just pour out like an avalanche. Taking a deep breath I finally look him in the eye.

“My leg still hurts and I’m still taking the pain pills and sometimes the sleeping pills but I’m still having bad nightmares and I have issues with cars and panic attacks.” I throw it all out there my mouth scrambling to catch up with my brain.

He starts scanning my chart again. He thoughtfully taps his cheek with his pen. “I want to go ahead and take out the stitches from your cheek and talk to your guardian about getting you set up with a Doctor and Physical Therapist for your knee. I also want you to stop the heavy pain pills and start using Tylenol and Motrin instead so I won’t write a new prescription for them. Once the stitches come out I don’t want you covering up the scar, it needs to
heal . After a week or two you can use a cream to try and lessen the look of the scar if you want.” Just as I think he is done and I’m free to go he drops a bombshell on me. “I also want you to see a trauma psychologist.”

Looking at him
I’m aghast. “But I’m doing okay. I haven’t broken down. I.am.okay.” I say through gritted teeth.

“Answer me honestly, don’t bullshit me Hadley.” Tilting my head at him, do doctor’s curse? Isn’t that against some sort of oath they take, that Hippocratic thing? Looking at me he replies, “I’m sure you are okay but after what you’ve told me I think you will really benefit from it. I recommend this to all of my patients who have suffered a loss or been in an accident. Hadley, I really think it would be beneficial to you to start seeing a psychologist. I think these feelings you have are normal but can get worse if you don’t talk to someone, preferably a professional.”

“But I haven’t told you about all of my feelings so how can you have any clue about them?”

Taking his glasses off
Dr.Finley looks at me with a look of sadness on his face. “Hadley, losing your family is something you cannot deal with on your own when you have expressed some of what is going on in your head to me. I want you to do this for your own benefit so you can lead a normal life. I don’t want to get called in one night because you overdosed or even worse are in the morgue.”

I am struck silent, I have no words. I cannot even respond to him because his words are true. When he finally does stop talking he moves to the tray of evil looking instruments and sets them next to me telling me to look at the wall.

“Let me know when you’re going to cut the stitches.” Holding my breath, I’m secretly craving the pain when he cuts the stitches off, but am disappointed when I feel none.

I hear him taking his gloves off and throwing them in the trash. “We are done, great job Hadley,” he says while wiping his hands with sanitizer. “Tell your Aunt to come in once you get into the waiting room I want a word with her, please.”

Handing me my crutches, I slink out of the room. I’m left mulling over what he said about therapy while they’re talking. I should have lied. Should have said I was okay. Damn it. I don’t want to see a shrink. I’m fine.

After awhile my Aunt walks out of the room clutching a packet of papers to her chest. She smiles at me with what I can only assume is a fake smile since it’s so big. She even make’s a saluting gesture at me. Rolling my eyes I get up and we walk out the door. We don’t really talk on the way to the car but  only knowing Jenny for a short time I can tell she is a woman on a mission who is going to make me talk , whether I want to or not.

Touching the sleek metal door of the car stops me cold; my breath comes out in gasps. Jenny looks up from trying to find her keys in her purse to see me having a panic attack and walks over pulling the crumpled brown bag out of her purse. Putting it over my mouth she tells me to breathe in, two, three and out, two, three.

Once my heart feels like I’m not going to have a heart attack I get in the car. The silence is overwhelming and my anxiety is still really high. To take my mind off it and my panic attack I lean forward switching on the radio. Jenny looks over at me and turns it off. My fingers start tapping out a rhythm while I wait until I can turn the music back on. Reaching into my purse I search around for my
ipod but fail to find it. Huffing I cross my arms and I stare at the dashboard.

“You hungry?”
She looks out her window as we are passing a Taco For You.

“Yeah, But I can’t eat Taco
For You anymore.”

We had stopped for Taco’s after
Lexi’s recital. I haven’t been able to stomach going back there since the accident. It’s stupid, since the restaurant had nothing to do with the accident but it is what it is.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a sit down restaurant so we can talk.”

“Great,” Mentally kicking myself. Now I’m trapped and we have to talk, just what I don’t want to do. How do I get myself in these situations? I just know she is going to say something about me seeing the psychologist or something. Staring out the window I am full of trepidation as my aunt pulls us into the parking lot. Peering out of the car windshield I see we are at a restaurant called, Jimmy’s Shack only it’s not a shack. It’s a nice looking place; it has as so many different themes going on that I’m starting to think the theme is Chaos. I like it. It’s like the story of my life. Never knowing what is going on or what’s going to happen.

My eyes are so overwhelmed by the décor that I forget Jenny
is  holding the door open for me. I do a double take as I enter the restaurant, as a life sized squirrel holding a circular tray greets us. Who puts a huge squirrel statue in the middle of a restaurant? How very random. I like it. As the hostess seats us I’m assaulted by the rich smells coming from the kitchen.

“Nice squirrel.” I tell the waitress pointing to the statue.

“Thanks!” She bounces her hair back and forth. “That’s the owner’s prize possession. People keep trying to steal it though,” she says her voice flippant.

Hmmm, people trying to steal a life size squirrel. That’s totally not something you hear every day. Shaking my head at the weirdness of it I look over at Jenny who just shrugs. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No, never.” Turning she smiles. “That squirrel was something wasn’t it?”

“Yeah something truly weird.”

We got there before the lunch rush so it’s not very busy. . A Lance Bass look alike takes our drink orders, and once he opens his mouth it’s obvious he bats for the other team. He even had the audacity to comment on my aunt’s knock off Prada bag., I got a perverse pleasure seeing her  blush when he said, “Nice knock off.”  I’m not even that brave.

What? Don’t look at me like that. He was cute but definitely gay. No straight man would know the difference between Prada and a knock off. He did however cut his tip in half with my aunt. She’s sitting there staring at her purse with a frown of disappointment. Pinching her lips together she puts her purse down neither of us talking. I’m too busy looking around the restaurant, at all the families laughing and smiling and she’s just lost in her thoughts. Aren’t we a bunch of happy go lucky people? Thankfully our food comes before we have to actually make conversation. Never fear though, she decides to wait until we get the food to ruin my appetite. La
di freaking da.

“Hadley,” she starts, dipping one of her fries into her ketchup, “You worry me. I know losing your parents and sister is one of the worst things possible. Trust me. I get it. I lost not only my sister but your dad who was like a brother to me and my niece. It doesn’t matter that we lost touch we are family. I don’t want you to stop living because this happened. They wouldn’t want that for you.”

She pauses to take a sip before fixing me with a look. I flinch when making eye contact with her. Why does she have to do this now? Why can’t she stop trying to fix me?

“You’re going to be continuing on with life I will not allow you to drown in whatever it is that’s going on inside of that head of yours. I’m not sure what you have planned. College or go straight to work. I personally don’t care but I do want you to make the best of it.”

Pissed off I glare at her, “I’m sorry but I’m not sure how you expect me to be thinking about all these things when I am still reeling from the accident.”

She looks at me aggravated and says she has to use the restroom
.
I know it’s just to get away from me
but at least I don’t have to sit there with her scrutinizing, judgmental eyes on me. I scoff at her but she has me thinking, swallowing past the lump in my throat I twirl a fry in my mayo/ketchup mixture. How can I act like nothing happened? How can I be okay to just go on with my life when they are gone?

It’s not right.

I hear laughter to my left and look longingly over at the group that looks about my age. I miss being carefree. Frowning at them I turn my attention back to my plate with my head down as Jenny appears back from the bathroom her eyes look red as if she has just spent the last few minutes crying. Now I feel even worse. I’m a horrible person I make everyone miserable.

“Jenny, I’ll do my best but I can’t make any promises.”  I take a sip of my soda giving me a chance to gather my thoughts. “I do want to go to college but I want to go to the community college.”

“Your mom used to tell me you were into photography. Have you thought about studying that in school?

Shaking my head I look down,
“I haven’t touched my camera since the accident. I’ve been considering starting again, but I don’t know.

“Give it a try, it can’t hurt anything. Go to the park or something and take pictures.”

Shooting me a wan smile, she grabs one of my fries and cracks a fake grin. “Oh and lay off Avery, He’s a good guy and hasn’t had the best life so far. You never know you might end up finding something you like about him. ”

Perturbed at even the thought of that happening I quickly shake my head back and forth. Have I been that bad to Avery? Thinking back I see myself saying some pretty mean things and ignoring him. Shifting uncomfortably I vow to be nicer to him. I think part of it is that I’m attracted to him. I’m female and he is a very nice looking male specimen but it’s wrong to have feelings for someone so soon after the accident. It’s not right. I mean why should I be allowed to be happy?

Shaking my head I finish my food as Jenny waves the ostentatious waiter over to us and asks for the check. They start discussing her purse. Gag me. I swear I think he’s trying to earn his tip back. Rolling my eyes at them I let her know that I’m going to head to the car and get some air.

Grabbing the stupid crutches I shield my face from the group of teens that stare at me as I make my way towards the door, their laughter following me. My heart clenches at being stared at…I can’t help that it hurts.. I’m not used to being stared at. I’m used to flying under the radar and I keep forgetting about the scar on my face, I cannot forget any longer, my stomach clenching.

A nice older man holds the door open for me and I nod my thanks to him as I hobble into the parking lot.  Taking a deep breath of fresh air I move as fast as I can on my crutches to Jenny’s car. It rained while we were eating; the ground is wet and avoiding puddles is tricky. I recall my tenth birthday party and how it poured rain and I started crying because I thought my party was ruined. My mom took my hand and pulled me outside. I had asked her why we were standing in the rain and she said, “Hadley, there is no better thing to do than dance in the rain, your party isn’t ruined. Now follow me and dance with me!” She grabbed my hand and twirled me with her in the rain. Best birthday ever.

The honking of a horn shakes me out of my daydream.  I’ve stopped dead in the middle of the road. I’m such a loser. Sighing in a self depreciating way I shake the cobwebs from my mind and move as fast as I can without slipping on the pavement to Jenny’s car. Pulling open the car door I lean my crutches on the car and stare at the seat with the car door open. My heart rate starts to speed up. Tilting my head as I peer into the car,
Hadley, get a grip it’s an inanimate object. It’s not going to hurt you, just sit down in the car.
Never in my life did I think getting into a car; an ordinary vehicle would be so hard and make me feel like death. The panic it induces is unbelievable. My hands are clammy. My armpits are sweating. I’m shaking so bad. What is wrong with me? I feel broken as I stand there in my panic induced haze.

Fumbling with my purse straps I manage to open my purse looking up to make sure Jenny isn’t there. I stick my hand inside and move it around peering inside to locate my pills. Once I find the circular tube I let out a sigh of relief. Clasping the pill bottle to my chest. I want them to take everything away, erase all the pain building up like a dam inside my body. It’s all I can do not to tip the bottle into my mouth, but I don’t. I grip it tightly putting the lid back on. I shake the bottle, the anxiety dying down as the pills slap against the plastic. My breathing settles as if the pills hold the key to life when Jenny startles me. I end up almost dropping the pills only to get a good grasp on them before they crash to the ground.

She’s on her phone as she looks over at me with a question on her face. Waving towards me to get in, she motions towards her ear and continues talking. My eyes widen and my throat tightens at the thought of going through another panic attack. Almost offering to walk I open my mouth when she gets this impatient look on her face and motions for me a second time to get in the car. I’m still standing there like statue. Giving a little huff she walks over and opens the door, grabs my crutches, throws them in the back as she hisses into the phone. She messes with something on the side of the door and then walks over to me looks me in the eye, randomly giving me a hard hug and giving me a slight push into the awaiting car. My hands immediately go to the door to open it and while the doorknob works the door isn’t opening.

“Hold on a sec.” Jenny says into the phone. She looks over at me holding her hand over her ear.

“I activated the child lock again so you wouldn’t try and get out during your panic attack, Hadley.” She says it so nonchalantly like it’s a regular occurrence, but I guess it is now. I slam my hand against the window as she goes back to her phone call not even batting an eye. As if going bat shit crazy in a car is a normal thing. This is my life after, my life now, being locked in a car so I don’t jump out while it’s moving.

We sit in the parking lot for at least ten minutes while she discusses
pom pom color and hair styles. Rolling my eyes at the fifth mention of pink and white pom poms and we are heading home. I lean my head back and stare out the window ahead of me making good use of my imaginary break, listening to her talk about spanks and proper diet.

Against the window, I settle for putting it into a fist and squeezing, hard. My life has come to being treated like a child. I notice since I have put all my focus towards my anger that the panic attack gripping me has calmed down and I’m no longer worried about the car moving.  I listen to Jenny’s inane cheerleading banter until my eyes glaze over and like the loser I am, I fall asleep.