Intensive Therapy Part 27

"I'm trying."

"'Trying'? What does that mean?"

"It means what it means," Victoria reacted more intensely than the last time Jonas brought up the subject.

"Victoria, I can't emphasize enough how important it is to get a hold of your feelings about him."

"I'll talk about it when I'm ready."

"What if you never feel ready?"

"G.o.ddammit, Jonas!" Victoria erupted. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop pushing me on this? There's enough on my mind already."

Jonas fell silent. Victoria remembered the feeling from years ago, when she felt she had driven him away. She wanted to keep the conversation going. "How are your children? I'd like to know more about them."

"They're fine," Jonas said tersely.

"You said they're adopted?"

Jonas responded hesitantly. "Gil never talks about being adopted, but our twelve-year-old daughter Grace has been asking about it a lot recently."

"A lot?" Victoria said in the same inflection Jonas always used to draw her out.

"You're still plenty sharp, Victoria."

"Must come from years of depositions and cross-examinations. Right now you sound like a reluctant witness."

"Do you know people with adopted children?"

"Leslie and Charlese adopted a girl from Croatia. So did a friend from the neighborhood, who adopted domestically."

"I'm a.s.suming this woman adopted when the baby was an infant," Jonas said. "Did she talk about bonding with her newborn?"

"Why?"

"Just curious."

"This doesn't sound like you, Jonas," Victoria said. "Something tells me we've been here before. Like twenty years ago."

"It's not for me to burden your therapy with my issues."

"Burden me? Before every session, I worry how much of a pest I've become. It's still liberating to hear that you have issues, too. It makes you more real and makes me feel less like a freak. Without that, I couldn't talk like we do."

As their time drew to a close, Victoria resolved to see Jonas in person more often, and to steel herself for the discussion about Martin, for whom her mixed emotions were festering like an abscess.

50.

Three hours later, Mrs. Blount ripped into Victoria about neglecting Melinda's needs. Victoria had had enough; she left the room abruptly, but Mrs. Blount followed her to the elevator and continued the harangue.

"What's the matter with you?" Victoria cried. "I thought therapists were supposed to be understanding and compa.s.sionate. My son's in a coma, and I'm trying to reconcile with my daughter. We're finished with you. My husband and I want another family therapist."

"Well, I never!" Mrs. Blount huffed.

"Well, you just did! I give opposing counsels' experts more respect in a two-hour deposition than you've shown me in the whole time we've known you." Victoria motioned toward the room. "This is about my daughter. And," she said, pointing at her chest, "this is about me."

"I'm going to ... I'm going to ..."

"You're going to what? Report me to the princ.i.p.al? Go ahead."

Mrs. Blount's face contorted like a gargoyle's. "No wonder your relationship with Melinda is so terrible."

"Leave my daughter out of this. What do you know about relationships?" Victoria had done her homework. "Everyone in Philadelphia knows your husband is always f.u.c.king one of his patients and that neither of your children speaks to you."

Victoria marched back into the therapy office and slammed the door. "We're done here," she told Martin and Melinda. "I'm sure Dr. Milroy will get us someone we can work with."

Mrs. Blount barged into the room.

Victoria yelled, "Get out and stay out!"

"Good for you, Mother." Melinda applauded.

Martin glowered at Mrs. Blount. "I don't care for how you've treated my wife." Turing to Victoria, he said, "I'm sorry, Vic. I should have said something sooner."

"We'll talk about it later," Victoria said abruptly. She hadn't intended to be so short, which brought to mind Jonas's warning about getting a grip on her feelings about Martin.

Dr. Milroy entered the room. "I heard a commotion. What's going on?" Mrs. Blount opened her mouth, but Melinda interceded. "This woman is an a.s.shole. All she does is upset my mother."

Mrs. Blount said to Melinda, "Your mother is the problem. She's nasty, confrontational, and obstinate. No wonder you're so ill, you poor thing."

"I'm not poor, you stupid b.i.t.c.h!" Melinda yelled. "And it's not all her fault. I played a role in it, too, not that you have the brains to understand. As for nasty, confrontational, and obstinate, look in the mirror, lady. That's you, not her."

"Let me talk with the Brauns alone," Dr. Milroy said to Mrs. Blount, who slithered out, fangs still bared.

"Can't you help us?" Melinda said to Dr. Milroy. "You work with groups. You must know how to work with families."

Dr. Milroy looked at his watch. "Stay here, everybody, while I call home and tell them I'll be late."

51.

During Dr. Milroy's absence, Melinda withdrew several tissues from a Kleenex cube.

"What is it, Melinda?" Victoria asked.

"I've made such a mess. I love Gregory, too. I understand how much he means to you. I know I'm not as easy as him. It doesn't matter anymore. I know you tried to love me the best you could."

"I did. I tried so hard," Victoria said. "But I can do better, now. You'll see."

When Dr. Milroy returned, Victoria and Melinda were embracing. He waited while Melinda composed herself and sat facing her parents.

"This is hard," she began. "But here's what really happened. Do you remember the boy I hung around with this summer? I met him through someone at school, Nancy Grogan. I was so lonely; it made me happy she wanted me to hang out with her. The boy's name was Todd Kramer; he was a friend of Nancy's brother.

"Todd went to Choate. He was visiting Philadelphia because he had an interview at Penn; he said he wanted to be a doctor. I told him you were smart and that both of you went there.

"Todd had long hair, and his stubble made me think of Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean. I said something about the movie, and it turned out he liked it, too. So, we got into this thing where he'd say a line from the movie, and I'd say the next line; or he'd imitate one of the characters, and I'd say who it was. It was fun. I felt like someone finally got me. He'd talk with me and stuff, and he intrigued me, because he was so much older and wiser. Todd started texting me and, like, I couldn't believe it. I really got the feeling he liked me.

"Once, he and I texted back and forth all night, and I wouldn't go to sleep because I was afraid I'd miss something. So, I stayed up even though I was exhausted. He said everyone was going to Atlantic City in the morning, and he asked me to go. Remember that day? I asked permission to go to Atlantic City, and you said yes."

"I remember that," Victoria said, recalling how pleased she felt that Melinda had friends at school.

"Todd said there would be a lot of supervision, but when I got to the Grogan's house, Todd was the only one there. He said the Grogans had left when he overslept. This was the first time I was alone with him, and I liked it. Actually, I liked it a lot, a whole lot, and I got ... I got ... I felt ..." Melinda's face turned pink.

Martin started to speak but Victoria shushed him and told Melinda to continue.

"Todd asked if I wanted to eat. He said he had something that would make food taste really good; then he produced something that looked like half a squashed cigarette and he asked if I knew what it was and I guessed it was marijuana. Everyone in school had tried it, and I felt stupid, because n.o.body asked me to smoke with them, so I pretended I knew about it, so he wouldn't think I was, like, some clueless moron."

Melinda searched Dr. Milroy's face. He rolled his neck around as if he had a crick. If anything, he seemed pleased.

"Todd took me into the bathroom and turned on the fan. He told me to inhale as deeply as I could. At first, it felt like sucking in gravel; I coughed so hard, it hurt my sides. The second and the third times were easier.

"Then I started feeling weird. My legs felt heavy, and I wanted to lie down. I stumbled over to the nearest couch, and I remember looking at Todd's shirt and becoming obsessed by the b.u.t.tons, which I thought were amazing. I started thinking about who invented b.u.t.tons and how it changed the world, and what people did before b.u.t.tons. I started counting Todd's b.u.t.tons from the top down, and the bottom up.

"Anyway, I was really tired from being up all night, so I fell asleep, but Todd must have thought I was dead, because he woke me up. I told him to let me be, which he did, but then he woke me up again and said he was afraid that if I went to sleep, I might stop breathing. That got me really scared."

Melinda said to her mother, "I didn't want to call you or Daddy, because I knew you would yell at me."

The corners of Dr. Milroy's mouth tightened.

Victoria said, "That's going to change, Melinda. I mean it."

Dr. Milroy smiled at Victoria and nodded for Melinda to continue.

"Todd disappeared and came back with some blue pills. He told me to take one; he said it would keep me awake. I figured that someone who was going to be a doctor would know what he was doing, so I did what he said. I took a pill but nothing happened. Then I took another one, and that's when everything went crazy. My heart beat out of my chest, my skin felt like it was on fire, and it felt like someone was pulling my hair. I pictured running in front of a bus or slashing my throat. I couldn't make the thoughts stop."

Victoria recoiled, realizing how alike she and Melinda were.

"I was hoping and hoping it would all go away, but it just kept getting worse. I asked Todd what the pills were. He said it was his ADD medicine, and I asked how to get it out of me. He went online and found out that too much ADD medicine could cause schizophrenia, and I thought how awful it would be to turn into some schizo. It went on and on. I remember telling myself, 'Please, please, make this go away before I die. I don't want to die in a strange house with a boy I hardly know.'"

Melinda looked at her parents. "I haven't been the same since. The bad thoughts got worse, especially at night. That English teacher b.i.t.c.h made me feel like s.h.i.t. She's always yelling at me. I didn't want you to know, because I knew you'd never forgive me for messing up my head."

"Did anything else happen to you while you were there?" Martin asked.

"You mean did Todd try and have s.e.x with me? No, it wasn't like that."

Dr. Milroy spoke up, "Melinda and I are working on straightening out her thoughts. This is all a traumatic reaction in someone with bipolar tendencies. She has flashbacks, intrusive thoughts, and feelings of helplessness. Periodically her mind gets flooded with horrific images."

"You don't know how awful they are," Melinda cried. "They're b.l.o.o.d.y and they're always about you, Daddy, and Gregory. The idea of Gregory with his head split open makes me want to vomit. It's only been in the last two weeks that I've been able to read again," she said proudly. "The medicine makes me feel better."

"I'm sure talking helps, too," said Victoria.

Melinda said, "I like talking with Dr. Milroy."

"Good," Victoria said. "I have my own psychiatrist to talk with. He gives me medicine, too."

Dr. Milroy turned to Victoria, "She has your genes, which made it likely that, sooner or later, something would trigger a traumatic reaction, though not necessarily to this degree. It's interesting. Not only does bipolar disorder run in families, but often a medication that works for one family member works for another. Melinda's medication dampens her intrusive thoughts without making her a zombie. We can't have her up night after night worrying that if she goes to sleep she won't wake up."

"Now do you understand why I didn't want to go to sleep?" Melinda pleaded. "I wasn't being defiant; I was terrified. I kept myself up as long as I could, and when I did sleep, I had awful nightmares where I was paralyzed while spindly creatures that looked like tarantulas huddled together like they were going to swarm all over me."

"In addition to medication, we're working on techniques for Melinda to feel more in control of her mind," Dr. Milroy said.

"I'm getting better at stopping bad thoughts. And I'm starting to be able to write again, too. I was afraid my mind would never work again."

"Having Melinda tell her story over and over doesn't necessarily help," Dr. Milroy said, "but it's good you know where she's coming from."

Victoria said, "It all makes sense now. Thanks for telling me, honey."

"I believe that with time, therapy, and medicine, Melinda will recover," Dr. Milroy said.

"Completely?" Victoria said.

"That depends on what you mean by 'completely.' No one can promise that Melinda will never think about what happened that day."

"Will she be on medication forever?"

"It's way too early to speculate about that. The first order of business is for Melinda to get well and to stay well. Then, we'll decide what's next."

Melinda said, "What about family therapy? I never want to see that awful woman again. I know you're very busy, Dr. Milroy, but ... maybe you could ..."

"Sure I will. How's this? We'll arrange some day pa.s.ses and see how it goes when you're home. And on one of them, the three of you can come to my office for a session. I'll put you down for a week from Friday at 5:00 PM. Okay, everybody?"

"Can I use one of my pa.s.ses to go to Children's Hospital? I want to see my brother," Melinda said.

"We'll talk about it," Dr. Milroy said, glancing at his watch. "Whoa! It's late. I've got to go now. Is everyone okay about that Friday time?"