She didn’t want to live with me.
He sighed. A long, heavy, preemptively apologetic sigh. “It’s time we actively consider adding ECT to her treatment plan.”
“No.” I stood with such force that my chair slid several feet behind me, tapping the back wall of his small office.
Dr. Carver didn’t flinch. I’m certain he’s dealt with more startling situations than my brewing temper tantrum. “Georgia. ECT, in conjunction with medications, like the ones she’s taking, has time and again proven the most effective for patients with catatonic schizophrenia.”
Electroconvulsive Therapy. Sounds fancy, right? Shock therapy is what it is.
“Dr. Carver, when I became her healthcare proxy she made it very clear to me that ECT was not up for discussion. I intend to honor her wishes.”
I wiped my palms against the soft cotton of my skirt. I knew she wasn’t getting better. She only had to be hospitalized when she slid to either end of her catatonic spectrum. She’d been spending less and less time in the middle, making living on her own a dangerous option.
However, she still had life left in her. I could feel it as sure as I could feel the sun was out even if my eyes were closed.
“Georgia ... the combination of medicine we have her on right now is the best she’s responded to. Why don’t we help that along with a round of—”
“No. I’m not sending her into seizures in the hopes that it rewires her brain so she can function normally again.”
“It’s not just a hope. It has a very high success rate of—”
“I’m aware of the numbers, Dr. Carver. I’m also aware of the potential negative side effects. So is my mother. Again, the answer is no.”
Dr. Carver stood and squared his chin toward me. “Your mother is here on her own accord, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes.” I scrunched my forehead, wondering what this lead-in was all about.
“If her history is any indication, she’ll likely be released within a few days. If she gets worse and has to eventually be involuntarily admitted, we’ll be completely out of proactive options unless you okay the use of ECT.”
Normally Dr. Carver would walk me back down the hallway and into the visiting room. This time, however his statuesque figure remained rooted by his desk, and I took that as my cue to leave. I knew he was her doctor and not my friend, but with one movement of his hands into his white coat pockets, he drew his line in the sand. He wasn’t going to budge on his opinion of the ECT.
Neither was I.
Upon returning to the visiting room, I was thrown off balance by its emptiness. Not just the absence of other patients, but the absence of my mother.
“She got tired,” Daniel said as he waved to me from across the room. “She went to bed. This is her usual time.”
I ran a hand through my hair, tightening it at the back of my neck. “Of course. I’m so used to coming here when she wakes up around three in the morning ... I just lost track of what time of day it was.”
I remained in my lonely spot on the floor until a firm arm wrapped around my shoulders. “It’s okay, Georgia. It’s tiring. Go home and get some sleep. See you at three?”
I looked up at Daniel’s compassionate eyes, wondering how long he’d be able to hold onto that empathy. “Do you ever go home?”
“Sometimes.” He smiled and squeezed my shoulders. “I usually work doubles. No wife. No kids. Why not? I love working here.”
I could have given him about twenty years worth of “why nots”, but I just smiled back and made my way through the maze of secured doors and hallways until I was back in my car, resting my head on my steering wheel and begging to hit the bottom of this rabbit hole.
Regan
“That’s fuckin’ awesome, dude. You’re going to love living with Georgia. She’s a trip.” CJ rummaged through Bo and Ember’s refrigerator. “Get your act together in the next couple of days and I can help you move in.”
“Thanks. I’m not moving in with her, CJ. It’s across from her. And, I expect your lazy ass to help me.” I shifted on the stool at the center island.
Ember set a plate topped with salad in front of me. “Wait, she stayed here last night? How did I miss that?”
“Because,” CJ spoke into the cheese drawer, “you were busy in siracha.”
I laughed as Ember scrunched her nose. “I was what?”
“You were in your headstand this morning.” I chuckled at CJ’s interpretation of Sanskrit.
“Oh.” She raised her eyebrow at CJ, indicating idiot. “Anyway, are you sure you want to do that? I mean, it seems like you’d have to deal with a lot of ... foot traffic.”
“What do you mean? It’s a residential spot, apart from the bakery that’s downstairs.” I reminded myself to ask Georgia again about that place.
Ember grumbled as CJ cluttered the island with a pound of meat and cheese, and other CJ-sandwich necessities, like mustard, mayo, and ketchup. Don’t ask.