Doctor’s Recommendations
*
Only take professional advice.
Paige nodded. “What did Robert say?”
I shrugged. “He said it was my money when I spent it, and it’s mine now. He wishes I would request all of it, but he understands it would be hard to do to my dad.”
Paige scribbled in her notebook, and we fell into a silent lull.
Robert had been a bit peeved at me. He did relent in the end, acknowledging that it was my money, but he was frustrated that I had given them so much.
I shook away that mild argument and cleared my throat.
“I didn’t go to the hospital on Thursday; she asked us not to come.” I picked at a loose thread on a pillow. “Then, I came out on Friday, but she was asleep the entire time, so my dad sent me home.”
Paige tapped her pen and frowned slightly. “Bree, how much are you spending to drive out there?”
I knew where Paige was going with this. I was stretching myself too thin for zero benefit. I gave her a strained smile. “Too much. I know I shouldn’t harm myself for this. I’m just afraid that if I’m not there and she dies, I’m going to miss something.”
“Like what?”
I froze. I hadn’t thought about that before.
“What do you mean?”
Paige sat down with her notebook and crossed her arms. “Well, what do you think you’ll miss? Your siblings arguing?”
I snorted. “No, I can experience that for a much lower personal cost.”
Paige nodded. “Right. Then is it the hospital food?”
At this, I laughed. “No, that’s probably worse than my siblings.”
“Exactly. So, what is making you go back there?”
I sighed. “Obligation.”
“Maybe, but we both know you have felt less and less obligated lately. Give me the truth.”
I paused, pressing my lips together.
I knew I had to ask it. I braced myself for the humiliation.
“Paige, do you know of any stories, personally, of deathbed apologies?”
I prepared for laughter. I expected Paige to tease me.
Instead, I received sympathy.
“It’s not common, but I have heard of it.”
I exhaled. “I keep holding onto this idea that if I’m there and she’s at the end, she’ll have a moment of clarity and apologize to me.”
“For what?”
For what? I wanted to yell at Paige. For the years of abuse, selfishness, pitting her children against one another—
“Bree, you look confused. Let me clarify.” She cleared her throat. “We know why you want an apology from your mother. We understand why her actions warrant an apology. However, your mother doesn’t.”
My heart shattered. “So, ignorance is an excuse for misbehavior?”
Paige shook her head. “No, and to be fair, this isn’t a case of your mother not knowing any better. It’s her making an active choice to continue as she always has willfully.”
I shook slightly. “So it’s a false hope that she will tell me she’s sorry?”
Paige sighed. “Bree, why do you apologize to people?”
I chewed on my lip. “Because I made a mistake, and I want to show I understand that I hurt them, and I’ll work to never do it again.”
Paige nodded. “Now, what if you didn’t make a mistake?”
I twisted my mouth. “If the other person said I did, I probably would still apologize.”
Paige laughed at this and shook her head. “That’s Martha’s conditioning talking.”
“So what you are saying is that I shouldn’t expect an apology because she doesn’t feel she did anything wrong?”
“Exactly.”
“But what if she does think she did something wrong?”
“She might. However, genuine apologies come from a place of growth. She’s dying. There is no more growth required.”
I almost said, She’s Catholic; she lives for penitence . However, I knew in my heart that Paige was right.
Even if I received an apology, it wouldn’t be real.
I groaned. “All right, I’ll only go out there if I want to, for me and not for anyone else.”
Paige exhaled. “Thank you.”
We sat silently for a beat before she said, “We only have three sessions before you leave. Do you feel like you’ve completed the goals we set in the beginning?”
I frowned. No, I did not.
Paige studied me, then smiled. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be 100 percent, though I do feel you have improved.”
She flipped to the beginning of her notebook and recited, “More self-control, you have that.”
I nodded. “Rob has been gone for almost two months, and I haven’t drunk myself into a stupor.”
Paige nodded. “The next goal was more confidence—I see that in every conversation.”
She was right. I was more willing to say my feelings mattered. Maybe not with my family, but more with Rob and others.
Paige hesitated and then ripped the last page out of her notebook. “I want you to reach out to this therapist when you get to York. I have researched him, and I think he will be good for you. He specializes in neurodivergent patients, so—”
My chest tightened. “Like…autistic?”
Paige caught the rising panic in my voice and lifted a hand. “First, I’m not diagnosing you. Second, no—but I do think you may have ADHD.”
I took a deep breath. Then exhaled. “Well, yeah.”
Paige raised a brow. “Yeah?”
I shrugged. “I was told I had that in middle school and was put on medication until I wasn’t.”
“Until you weren’t on medication, or until someone else told you that you didn’t have ADHD?”
“The first one. My mom said the medication killed my creativity and joy, so she stopped filling the prescription.”
Paige looked up at the ceiling and sighed. She then got up and went to her computer. I smirked, listening to her groan at the sluggish printer for her to return with two sheets of paper.
“This one is a list of credible psychiatrists in York and Leeds who will need to reassess you, and this”—She held up another piece of paper—“is for you to give your mother if she attempts to be your doctor again.”
I took the paper and flipped it over, immediately cackling.
On Paige’s letterhead was a simple statement:
July 25, 2015
Mrs. Martha Soot,
While I appreciate your extensive medical background in nursing, I request that you refrain from advising my patient, Brianna Rook, on her psychiatric care.
She has her doctor for these recommendations.
Sincerely,
PAIGE KIRKWOOD, L.M.H.C.
I looked back up at Paige and coughed out, “I’m framing this.”
To my surprise, she chuckled back.
I smiled back, feeling something I hadn’t expected: peace. Not because everything was fixed, but because, for the first time, it didn’t have to be.