by Mary Adkins
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Thu, Oct 22 at 12:36 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
THAT’S why you don’t like that I’m in Virginia all the time. It reminds you of where you AREN’T. As for the malpractice claim, which I am only looking into, if your sister died, you’d want to know why, too.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Thu, Oct 22 at 12:37 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
She died because she had cancer, Jade. That’s the reason.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Thu, Oct 22 at 12:42 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
I do want to open the bakery. More than anything. Just not with your help.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Thu, Oct 22 at 12:43 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
Got it. Good luck.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Thu, Oct 22 at 12:51 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
You want to read my poetry?! Here’s one. It’s a haiku:
If you meet a Smith
Simonyi: KEEP YOUR DISTANCE.
Liar! Asshole! PRICK!
http://dyingtoblog.com/irismassey
March 18, 4:00 PM
An update.
This update concerns a review of my latest CT scans by a doctor I have never talked to or heard about until today: Dr. Allison. Dr. Allison is a radiologist. Unlike my oncologist Dr. Hsu, this other doctor, in reviewing the scans, spotted a mass on my liver.
The day before yesterday, Dr. Allison and Dr. Hsu found mutual free time in their busy schedules to chat and figure out why their opinions on the scans differ. And once Dr. Hsu took a closer look, he had to agree with Dr. Allison that there is possibly something “of concern” on my liver. He doesn’t know why he missed it before, he says, except that he does not spend as much time looking at scans as Dr. Allison, and therefore isn’t an expert.
Ah. Well, that might have been nice to know.
The question of whether I now have cancer on my liver will need to be addressed via follow-up scans on Friday.
Fortunately Smith was out of the office when he called. I tore up papers. I threw a stapler. I screamed till my throat hurt. I didn’t feel sad until I thought of telling Richie.
It’s like I’m on the subway and I can’t make out the garbled, scratchy announcement, which could be that the train is going out of service, or being rerouted, or just that there’s a slight delay. Do I stay on or do I have to get off here?
Do I have cancer or don’t I? Someone, please, for God’s sake. Tell me what is happening so I can decide how to feel.
COMMENTS (2):
BonnieD: No! ☹ ☹ Doctors suck!
ChristmasWasMyFavorite: Didn’t this blog used to have pictures?
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Thu, Oct 22 at 8:44 PM
subject:
no subject
* * *
I’ve managed to isolate myself from everyone in my life. Phil fired me. Your sister hates me. My mother is mad at me. Wally thinks I’m a bad son. Richie is clearly avoiding me because he’s sick of feeling like an ATM, and sick of me. I’m sick of me.
The other day, I was remembering that game we used to play. I think we called it “Either/Or.” The one where you pick between two things: one you get to keep, and the other you lose forever?
You might start with, say, Muffins or soda?
I’d definitely pick soda since I don’t eat muffins. Then it would be my turn to come up with a contender for soda: Soda or movies?
That’s not a great one because it’s too easy. Obviously movies. You’d pick movies, for sure, then go for something like, Movies or music? That’s harder.
And the game would go on until we were living in a world without muffins, soda, movies, socks, the color red, cell phones, air travel, and toothpaste, and our choices would reach the level of abstraction: Love? Sex? Family? I was always amused that, eventually, regardless of the path the game had taken, our choice would come down to some version of the same dichotomy—life without the myriad things that make life tolerable, or death?
I always chose death, because at that point, who wants to live? You’ve lost everything worth living for. But you, every time, would find the one good thing that was left and keep going back to it: “But did we get rid of friendship?”
“No, but we lost love, sight, creativity, joy, and hamburgers.”
“But we still have friendship . . .”
You always clung to reasons not to choose death.
I feel like I’m at the end of that game, and all the reasons for living are gone, but you’re the one who died, and I get to stick around.
I remember once reading a news story about an Irishman who was sentenced to death, and over the two years he spent on death row, he made peace with it. Though he maintained his innocence, he came to terms with the fact that his life was ending.
But then something happened: his sentence was converted to life in prison. Suddenly he had before him decades of life to go, years of time he’d already given up on. I was struck by what he said in his interview about it later, after he was exonerated—he said that when his sentence was converted, he wasn’t relieved. He was afraid. He’d made peace with death, but he had no idea how to face more life.
How did you find your way to the kind of peace you reached? Is it because you were dying? How do I do that, but with more life to go?
* * *
from:
Bro-vado
to:
[email protected]
date:
Thu, Oct 22 at 11:58 PM
subject:
GET IT, MAN
* * *
You walked away with cold hard cash!
Here’s a breakdown of your most recent session:
High: $482
Low: $14
Walkaway: $234
ProTip: Setting yourself a time limit can prevent you from developing a problematic habit and ensure that you continue to enjoy Bro-vado for the healthy form of leisure that it is!
Thursday, October 22
TherapistAwayNetwork™
Patient Name: Jade Renee Massey
AUTO PROMPT: What do you fear?
Dr. Z, thank you for your email. I’m very sorry to hear about the giardia. I knew you could acquire it from drinking contaminated water in South America, but I had no idea the parasite could have such a long incubation period. I hope you recover quickly. No pressure to read this, by the way. I just need to process.
I was sort of falling for Smith Simonyi. I liked that talking came naturally, that I didn’t have to work to fill the silence. I liked how he would find excuses to put a hand on my back or arm. I liked his surprisingly wide smile. I liked that he never seems nervous but doesn’t seem arrogant, either. I like that I found it easy to trust him.
We were spending time together every other day or so, Dr. Z. Whenever I was in town, we’d get lunch or coffee. A beer, dim sum. Take a walk. Often under the pretense of working on the bakery, but we both knew it was more than that.
But th
is whole time, he was going behind my back to try to get my sister’s book published despite the fact that I’ve made it quite clear to him that I’m not comfortable with it. He isn’t who I thought he was. And he put her wishes over mine (which I feel like answers the “was he in love with her” question). He claimed he was going to tell me eventually . . . but when?
He also said some nasty things about my plan to open the bakery, how he thinks I’m dragging my feet because I don’t actually want to do it.
It’s not true. It really isn’t. I do want it. It’s really important that I do this for her.
The other day at a hair salon I was trying out on a Groupon (I made a poor decision last month to dye my hair red and suddenly needed it fixed, ASAP), a dad walked in with his sons, who looked around nine and eleven. The smaller one took the chair. The dad said to the stylist, “He wants a Mohawk.” Then he said to his son, “Show him the picture on your phone.”
“Why does he want that?” the older one asked the dad, peering over his brother’s shoulder at the screen.
“I don’t know,” the dad said. “Ask him.” But the younger one said nothing, just smiled at his reflection in the mirror.
“It’s not going to look just like that,” the older one said, panicking. “I don’t think you should do it.” And I got that kid. So much. He was used to being the one who charts a new path, who does the daring thing. Here was his younger brother, stepping out to make his own way, and it scared his older sibling, who was probably more nervous about his kid brother making a mistake than he was about making a mistake himself.
She wanted to open a bakery, and regardless of my own wishes, I have the ability to do that for her.
Smith says that she also wanted her book published, but that just feels like it can’t have been important in the same way. To air her anguish to the world? Her regrets about the life she didn’t get to live? How is that going to honor Iris—the real Iris, before she was sick? How is that going to help us heal?
* * *
Dear JADE,
Thank you for your submission to TAN™. We will make sure your provider receives this message.
The origin of the term “fear” is linked to the root of “revere,” which, of course, is related to “reverence.” Sometimes what we fear is also what we hold the deepest respect for. When we recognize this, we can often reconcile our fear and admiration into a single source of power, allowing the truth contained within to inspire bravery we didn’t know we had.
TAN™ is not to be used in case of emergency. If you are in crisis, call 9–1–1.
Sincerely,
Your friends at TAN
Monday, October 26
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Mon, Oct 26 at 8:43 PM
subject:
re: Hello
* * *
Dear Smith,
Good evening. Normally I would not provide these. It’s not exactly standard practice in my profession to share my process notes with clients. But in your case I am willing to make an exception in hope that they offer some illumination.
I sincerely hope you are doing well. Please call if you have any questions about them or wish to talk.
Warmly,
Raquel
ATTACHMENT (1)
eNoteTherapy—Revolutionizing Therapy Notes One Note At a Time
DR. RAQUEL S. STEIN, LCSW
SESSION 1
Patient name:
Smith Seymour Simonyi
Patient DOB:
3/22/76
Month_Day:
April 22, Fri
Referral:
Beth Israel Hospital ER
Intake Notes:
Patient arrived in acute distress, reporting that wife had left him “out of the blue” one week ago. He arrived home to find that she had moved out while he was away on business. Patient repeatedly asserted that there were no prior signs.
Patient reported he has been sleeping in shower, and that he suffered a panic attack during which he went to ER thinking he was having a heart attack.
After some probing, patient added that he drove to a casino in Connecticut over the weekend, where he gambled and lost much of his savings.
I suggested that the betrayal seemed to have triggered a PTSD episode and inquired if it reminded him of any past events.
Patient stated that he knew what it was but saw no point in revisiting it.
“This is why I never came to therapy before.”
He reported that he grew up in a household in which his father was physically and verbally abusive toward the patient’s mother in the patient’s presence. Patient left home at 18. When he was 28, he was living in New York when his mother killed his father by pushing him down a flight of stairs. He pulled her with him. She survived and is now quadriplegic, living in a facility outside Madison, Wisconsin. He expressed that he blames himself for not being there, but also her, for killing his dad, and he feels he shouldn’t. He has not seen her in several years and pays for her care. He stated that discussing these feelings does not seem to make them any less painful.
“Life is hard, and these are just sad things.”
We discussed coping mechanisms. He shared that he probably gambles too much but is not convinced this was a response to his upbringing, though his affect was flat and removed. He said he planned to try hot yoga, which seemed to work well for his admin.
I asked what he misses about his wife. He stated that he misses her being around. I asked what they did together. “Normal stuff.” Did they ever fight? “A normal amount.”
When I inquired as to the subject of their most recent argument, he presented as hostile. He stated that I was trying to figure out what he had done wrong to make her leave.
“I’m not a bad person,” he stated at a heightened volume.
He then explained that he and his wife had fought over getting a dog. She’d wanted one. He had resisted. This upset her. I asked why he had been opposed. He said because it would die before him. He had tried to explain to her that anticipating the death of the dog, he would not even be able to enjoy having it.
“Do you think she left me because of the dog?” he asked, distressed. I told him I didn’t know. I asked his wife’s name, which he still had not spoken. Clementine.
I asked if he had any thoughts of hurting himself, and he said no.
We concluded the session with a mantra should the panic attacks resume: It’s distress, not danger.
Patient scheduled to return in four days, on Tuesday.
RS Stein
CSW
DR. RAQUEL S. STEIN, LCSW
SESSION 2
Patient name:
Smith Seymour Simonyi
Month_Day:
April 26, Tues
Time since last appointment: 4 days
Patient presented as if in dissociative state. Superficially high spirits. Initiated conversation by announcing a turnaround: “A full 180.” Stated that he had a productive weekend, making a great deal of money, more than enough to compensate for his losses the previous week at Mohegan Sun.
As to how he had made the money, “a combination of things.” I asked how he was sleeping, given he had previously reported sleeping in his shower. He said he was “back in bed and everything.”
He had spoken to his wife. She had told him she was leaving because, if she had to pin it on one thing, it was that he cannot express his feelings, to the point that she can’t tell if he has them, and she is lonelier living with him than without him. I asked what he thought of it.
“If she wants a crier, I’m sure she can find a crier.” His affect was briefly sad.
Buoyant once again, patient then thanked me for my time and told me that he would no longer be needing my services. He had gone to hot yoga two days in a row with his secretary and was finding in it the catharsis he required. He had only come in
to tell me as much and to thank me for helping him through his crisis.
I wondered aloud why he had not just told me as much over the phone. I asked if he was sure he wanted to cease his treatment—otherwise, why had he shown up for it? He had not needed to end our treatment in person.
He appeared rattled, stated that he was certain, and left 20 minutes prior to the scheduled end of the session.
DISPLAY: PROCESS FlagNotes™: Initial diagnosis is unprocessed guilt and grief manifested in impulsive behavior; defensive stoicism; and pathological avoidance of relationships that he believes will lead to pain. Hypothesis: continues to stoke anger toward mother in hope that if he remains angry, her eventual death will hurt less than his father’s did when he was in his mid-20s.
DR. RAQUEL S. STEIN, LCSW
SESSION 3
Patient name:
Smith Seymour Simonyi
Month_Day:
May 25, Mon
Time since last appointment:
4 years, 29 days