Dr. Larson agrees, “Yes, he was.”
Even though I’m afraid of what she will think, I tell the rest. “I felt... satisfied that he feared not having control over what happened to me.”
“Satisfied?”
I knew I chose the wrong word!
“I’m sorry, that must have been the wrong word to use.”
She waves her hand. “No, don’t be sorry. Satisfied is an interesting choice. You could have said many others. Happy, thrilled, excited that your brother had no control over events and experiences happening in your life for the first time, then I might think something is not quite right with your thoughts.” .
Good, she doesn’t think I’m terrible for thinking it?
“I love my brother. I know he only wants to take care of me.”
Dr. Larson adds quickly, “I don’t think you are being hateful for wanting to have control over things in your life. It is your life after all.”
It is my life to live and I guess I am seeing that for the first time.
March 24
After Nurse Cindy gave me my morning medicines, Dr. Larson came to my room. She said that all of my test results were in and she was going to call my mom and Brody so we could all go over them. Before she left I asked her if she would go over the results with me before they came. She said she would be happy to.
I am going to her office in a few minutes.
I told her that this would be my first first step at taking control of my life. She said that baby steps toward control are good.
GF
March 24
Dr. Larson says she isn’t going to sugar-coat anything for me. I ask her what that means, it sounds like a dessert topping. She clarifies that she isn’t going to make her explanation of the results seem frivolous or insignificant in any way; no sugar involved. I understand that explanation, but the diagnosis that follows confuses me.
The phone ringing snaps me out of my daze.
Dr. Larson pushes a button near the receiver. “Yes.”
“Mr. Ferguson and Ms. Ferguson are here,” announces Nurse Cindy.
“Please send them down.” Dr. Larson pushes the button again to end the call.
I feel like I am catching my breath after holding it for a really long time.
“Gavin,” she says.
My eyes meet hers then she continues. “I know it is quite a bit to take in. I told you I wasn’t going to...”
“Sugar-coat,” I mumble. I know the diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder. The others are possible, but wouldn't be completely determined until the tests are in - Autism Spectrum Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, severe depression, and psychogenic non-epileptic seizures. As she watches me, she seems unsure that I can handle what she has said.
“Are you all right?” she asks.
I am not sure if I am. I don’t feel sad or angry, or anything really. I suppose I am indifferent, unmoved.“Yes, I am fine.”
Before my mom and Brody come in I quickly tell her, “Thank you for meeting with me first.”
I am not thankful for the outcome of my diagnoses, even though it is good to know I was right about the seizures not being epilepsy. I am just thankful for knowing before anyone else.
“Of course,” she says just as a light knock falls on her door.
After Mom, Brody, and I exchange hugs, we settle into our seats.
Without pause, Brody claps his hands together and asks, “So Doc, what are we dealing with?”
Having already heard the diagnoses, I partly listen but mostly watch Brody and Mom’s reactions as Dr. Larson lists the results. I’m anxious for them, which is odd because I wasn’t anxious when she told me minutes before.
After she finishes, they don’t say anything for a little while. I guess it is a normal reaction to learning how screwed up someone is.
“What will the treatment be?” Mom asks, breaking the silence.
Dr. Larson responds, “I have already eliminated certain medications.”
She lists three mediations that are hard to pronounce.“ His seizure medication was not effective so we eliminated that first. The anti-dep...”
Brody argues, “That was helping him though. It kept the seizures from happening. He started having them again when we gave him less.”
Dr. Larson takes a deep breath; he is making her frustrated and me nervous.
“Mr. Ferguson, the frequency was increasing because of the stress in his environment,” she replies.
Brody huffs. “What? Now you think his home is the cause of stress?”
“Brody, she didn’t say that,” Mom defends her, but then asks, “Wait, is this why you are not letting him come home in June?”
“Mr. Ferguson...” Dr. Larson starts.
“DON’T call me that! It’s just Brody!” He rises from his chair.
I don’t like seeing him act this way.“Brody, stop!” My voice is foreign, brave and powerful sounding. Brody looks down at me as I continue. “Please just sit down and listen.”
Brody’s jaw works back and forth like it does when he is mad. It is a surprise when he sits back down.
There is a swift knock at the door.“Dr. Larson?”
It is Mr. Hank. I bet he is worried about all the yelling.
“Everything is fine, Hank.”
He nods, then closes the door again.
Dr. Larson begins again,“The anti-depressant will continue, but he will stop the anticonvulsant. We will try another kind, which has a mood stabilizer in it: Depakote.” Dr. Larson continues to explain the medications I will be taking while my mind wanders.
“Less than he has been taking,” Mom whispers to Brody, but he doesn’t respond. He just sits back in his chair with his arms folded. Dr. Larson brings up behavior therapy. I guess it is different from the regular talk therapy we do. The entire time I am thinking about Brody’s reaction.
He is sitting there, mad like a little baby, because he is not in control.
“I need to say something.” I feel bad for interrupting, until Dr. Larson encourages me.
“Go ahead, Gavin.”
All three of them are ready to listen, which makes me want to close off and not speak. Before I am completely left mute, I hear a voice in my head say it is your life Gavin. I’m not sure if it was me or Andy trying to encourage me; either way, I listen.
“Brody, Mom, these disorders, the medication, the therapy, I need to be in control of them.” My legs feel like they are melting into the chair I am so nervous. I keep going though. “I know you want to help, but I need to try and take care of myself first.”
“Honey, we don’t mind taking care of you,” Mom says, tenderly.
“Gav, there are some things you can’t handle,” Brody says, flippantly, like it is common knowledge that I can’t handle things. It makes me mad.
“You have never given me the chance! You both always do it for me. Don’t let me do anything for myself. Don’t let me go anywhere by myself. I am almost sixteen years old!”
“Yes, Gavin, but you have certain challenges,” Mom says.
“Challenges that I have to overcome!” I notice my voice has gotten loud again, so I breathe like Dr. Larson taught me then start again.“I have to try to overcome them on my own first.”
Brody shakes his head slowly. “Gav, the last time you tried to overcome something...” He doesn’t finish, I know he is thinking about me bringing a gun into the auditorium.
Dr. Larson cuts Brody short. “That is not a productive way to handle this.”
I know she is trying to protect me from going back to that place, that terrible moment in time, my bad choice, but before Brody can argue back with Dr. Larson, I respond.
“I was wrong! It was wrong to go to school with a gun and try to make others see me, fear me for what they have done! That wasn’t the answer. I know that now. I know so much now and I am going to know more as soon as I start healing.”
I turn my body in my chair to face Brody and Mom. “Yes, I may fail
, but I need to try and be in control without you. I promise I will ask for help when I need it.”
Mom and Brody look at Dr. Larson, like they expect her to agree with them; that I am not fit to take control on my own.
For a split second I worry that she will side with them until she says, “I believe Gavin can do it and he needs your full support on this.”
I can tell Mom is surprised by my announcement, but it doesn’t keep her from saying, “He has our full support, Dr. Larson.”
Brody looks from Dr. Larson to me. He watches me for a long time, like he is trying to decide if I can do this on my own.
I make it easy for him. “I can do this Brody.”
Brody’s lips tighten into a thin line as he looks back at Dr. Larson and says, “He has my support too.”
The hardest part is when Dr. Larson tells Mom, Brody, and me that the family and friend visits will be limited to only family and once a week.
“What?” I say with complete shock. We didn’t talk about that before Mom and Brody came in!
Dr. Larson shakes her head and says with force, “We need to give you a fighting chance. The last two weeks you have shown a complete shift to independence and self-reliance without the influence of your family and friends. That is the kind of independence that will help you heal, Gavin.”
She continues to explain, but I know she is right. I have become more reliant on myself. I don’t say that to her though, as she tries to soothe us by adding, “You will still be able to see each other once a week and it is not permanent.”
Two of the most important people in my world pop into my head.“What about Evan and Lia? They are like family.”
The compromise Dr. Larson makes is that we can write letters back and forth. It isn’t what I was hoping for, but it is better than nothing.
Before Mom and Brody leave, Brody asks Dr. Larson, “So, since the whole 'family visits only' doesn’t officially start today, could Gavin see the two people waiting in the courtyard?”
I look at Dr. Larson oddly, then quickly back to Brody and ask, “Lia and Evan?”
Brody can’t hold back his grin.
He and I both look warily at Dr. Larson. “If it is okay with you, Doc.”
She looks from Mom, to me, then Brody. I know she is going to say no with that stiff look on her face. She already agreed to let me write them.
“Yes, but only for a few minutes,” she says, surprising me completely.
* * *
“Gav!” Lia is the first to see me. She jogs toward me and gives me a hug, nearly knocking me over. I happily let her, not freaking out one bit. I mean, LIA IS HUGGING ME!
“I’ve missed you,” she says in a small voice.
When she pulls back, I see tears on her face. I want to gently wipe them away, but I’m so clumsy I decide to not try. I might poke her eye or something weird like that.
I pat her shoulder. “It’s okay Lia. Don’t cry.”
She wipes her own eyes and backs away, only for Evan to pull me into a big hug. This one is different though. A big sister type hug or what I would guess it would be. Not the feeling I get from Lia’s hugs.
Evan pulls away and looks between me, Mom, and Brody.
“Did it go okay?” she asks.
“Family visits only, but it isn’t permanent, ” Mom explains.
Evan and Lia are as shocked as us. Mom tells them we can write.
“You mean letters? ” Lia questions.“That will be great Gavin. Just like the olden days when all they had was pen and paper.”
Heat rises on my cheeks as I imagine our letters transforming into Orlando’s love poems to Rosalind.[1]
“I can keep developing your pictures too and send them with my letters,” Evan says, interrupting my thoughts.
“We probably shouldn’t bombard him with letters right away,” Brody says, focusing on Evan.
Does he not want her to write to me?
“Gav, we should probably go and not over stay our welcome. Dr. Larson did us a favor by letting Evan and Lia visit,” Brody says, ignoring Evan’s stare.
Mom agrees with him. “Yes, we should not take advantage of her kindness.”
I hug Evan first, partly because I feel bad about how Brody made her feel.
Mom is last to get a hug because she always hugs the longest.
March 28
I wrote to Lia first, right after they visited, actually. I thought writing in a journal was hard. Writing to Lia was even harder. I must have thrown away about fifty sheets of paper. Nurse Cindy brought me my night medicine, only one pill now. She said it looked like I had torn apart a book with all of the crumpled papers tossed on my floor. She was really funny sometimes.
She watched me take my medicine then I sat at the desk and started writing again.
I ran out of paper and I didn’t want to use my journal, so I asked Nurse Cindy for more. After my tenth or eleventh trip to her station, she got tired of me asking and let me use her computer. She tried to act like she wasn’t reading my letter, but I knew she was. Every once in a while she told me what I might want to say when I paused, thinking. I couldn’t be mad at her for helping, even though it was extremely rude to look over someone’s shoulder.
Mom visited yesterday. Technically, Monday was the beginning of a new week and my last visit with them was on Friday, so we weren’t breaking any of Dr. Larson’s rules. Her cough was back. Didn’t sound good AT ALL.
I asked if she had medicine for it. Said she had a prescription.
I asked where Brody was. She said he was working and was sorry he couldn’t come. She brought me a letter from Lia and a package from Evan. I didn’t mean to be distracted from Mom’s visit, but I was so curious about Lia’s letter, I spent most of our visit thinking of what her letter said. I know Evan’s should have been more appealing, being a package and all, but the letter from Lia... it just meant more.
When I got back to my room, I read Lia’s letter not once, but three times. A few parts I read more.
She wrote that after she'd left, she prayed I would heal quickly. She said her days were not the same without me and that she loved me more than I could imagine. I read that line about ten times.
Dr. Larson and I talked about the letter during our therapy session. Talk therapy is behavior therapy after all. She thought it was great that I was finding a way to communicate with those I loved. She said the art of a handwritten letter was a dying one. I told her mine was typed, but the next one would be handwritten to keep the art alive!
Dr. Larson talked about my medicine schedule. She said it would be good to know what medicines I was taking and when, so I could work on being “self-reliant”.
I couldn’t help thinking what Brody would think about me taking my own medication without him or Mom watching. Instead of Nurse Cindy, it would be Nurse Brody.
Yeah, he probably wouldn’t think that was funny. I did.
GF
April 1
Finally opened Evan’s package. With Lia’s letter, having group session, Dr. Larson’s therapy sessions, learning my medicine schedule, and visiting more with MK and Sam, I guess I forgot. I feel terrible admitting that since Evan is one of my best friends in the whole world.
When I opened the package, I noticed the camouflage right away¡K It was my cap! The one my dad gave me. It felt weird to be holding it again. I smelled it to see if it smelled like home. It did, with a mixture of Evan. I guess it was the perfume she uses or something.
She also included some pictures, but they weren’t ones I had taken, or that I remembered taking.
I was worried they were pictures I snapped during a seizure, but then I realized I couldn’t have taken them since they were of my mom, Brody, and friends.
She wrote that she thought I would like to have some familiar faces on my wall. She also said she hoped my dad’s cap didn’t upset me. She said she was at my house last week helping my mom and hers clean the house, and she couldn’t help but go into my room and just sit. It made
her feel like I was there. She saw my cap and asked Mom if she should send it to me. Mom said yes. She said she couldn’t wait until I was home again and that it wasn’t the same without me.
She said more, but the entire time I read her letter, I wondered why her and her mom were helping my mom. What about Brody? Why wasn’t he there to help? Was he working?
Evan’s letter seemed sad and lonely. I thought of how Brody talked to her when they visited last. Were Brody and her not getting along?
Like she knew what I might think while reading this, she wrote that Brody was doing well, just working all the time. She said that she was keeping an eye on him for me.
For me; not for her. That made me worry.
Would it be strange for me to admit that I see her being my sister someday? Unless Brody screws it up that is. He better not.
GF
April 4
Mom came to visit today. She smiled as soon as she saw me wearing Dad’s old army cap. It helped me overlook how pale she looked. We walked around the property a little then sat on a bench. It had just finished raining and the smell of grass was strong. I showed her some of the pictures I'd been taking. She said they were wonderful.
Going to hang out with MK and Sam in the Recreation Center for a while.
GF
April 7
I have a job at Pembroke Psychiatric Center now; Hall Monitor. Mr. Hank says not to get too excited since it doesn’t pay, but it is still something to look forward to every day from 2 to 3 pm. My shift is after lunch, before my group session with MK and Sam; we are in the same group sessions now. I guess it is because of some patients leaving and others coming in. I think they are putting all of the patients, that have been here a while, together. Some of the newer patients seem pretty quiet and scared, like Iris the Head-banger and the new boy that makes all the noise. I know I was when I first got here.
Resurrecting Gavin (A Dismantling Evan Companion Novelette) Page 3