FEAR OF FEAR: A Psychological Thriller

by PJ Nakfoor

  My thirst intensified and soon became overwhelming. The sun’s heat had evaporated nearly all of the rainwater from the previous night. As I fantasized about an ice-cold glass of lemonade, my lower abdomen began to cramp. I doubled over in pain and I was taken back to the day I gave birth to Faith. I’d had a difficult labor and although each contraction was agony, it was forgotten the minute I heard Faith’s cry. The spasms I felt now were similar, but there wasn’t the reward of new life to make the suffering worthwhile.

  I pulled my shorts down just in time. After two more episodes, my insides quieted a bit. I used some damp leaves as toilet paper then I lay on the ground, completely drained, and resisted the urge to drift off. I allowed myself a few minutes, and then slowly got to my knees, stood up, and kept walking.

  * * *

  Although I didn’t feel well, I tried to pick up my pace, when my right foot caught under a root. This time I couldn’t catch myself before I fell forward on all my weight. I heard a snap and felt a searing pain in my lower leg. It swelled immediately and I prayed it was only a bad sprain. When I was able to orchestrate standing, I tried to put weight on my right foot, but the pain was too profound.

  After all that had happened to me today, and with now a possible broken ankle, any fortitude I’d gathered dissipated like steam from a tea kettle. I yelled, “Help! H-e-l-p! I knew nobody could hear me, but I was desperate. I’m going to die out here alone.

  * * *

  I was able to find a long branch to use as a support while I hobbled forward, putting minimal weight on my right foot. My pace was painfully slow, and my leg throbbed with every step. I could muster a few minutes of hobbling at a time, and then needed to stop, sit on the ground and elevate my leg on a log, or at least hold it up in the air for some relief. To get back up, I had to position myself on all fours, grab the branch, and catch my balance before the next step. I felt the swelling flourish with each minute and my shoe felt like a tightening vice. I debated taking it off for some relief, but for now I left it on. I didn’t need to step on something sharp and risk getting tetanus too.

  Suddenly I heard the rush of the river. It sounded like an angel playing a golden harp at the gates of heaven, and I swear, it pulled me toward it. Once I limped to the bank, I knelt down and reached into the stream with one hand while using the other for balance. I was so parched, I scooped handfuls of river water into my mouth. I thought it could be contaminated with bacteria and parasites, but I wouldn’t live long enough to become sick if I died from dehydration first. I sat down and removed my shoe, as I could no longer stand the pressure and soaked my foot and ankle in the river. Its tepid water was cooler than the air and gave me some relief. Ahhhh. By now, my deformed ankle was puffy and vivid with shades of purple and blue. I knew the more I walked on it, the more swollen it would become and could impede my circulation. I decided to stay put for a few minutes and once again regroup. I assumed the helicopter would continue its search, and maybe I had a better chance of being seen along the riverbank, believing the rescue crew would focus there.

  I was exhausted. I lay back and let the lapping, soothing water lull me into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  1997

  The gray-haired nurse called Vivi’s name in the waiting room of Dr. Yates’s office.

  “Hello, Vivi, please follow me.” To Nana she asked, “Can you please wait here until we get her settled?” Nana nodded, and the nurse took Vivi down a long hallway and they stopped at a scale.

  “Let’s get your weight first. And do you want your grandmother to wait in the lobby during your exam?” she asked, unsmiling.

  “Oh, no. I want her with me.” Vivi became agitated and fumbled to untie her sneakers before getting on the scale.

  “Are you sure you’re comfortable answering and asking questions with the doctor if she’s in the room?”

  “Yes, I’m sure .” Could I be sick because of the kava? I don’t want Nana to know, but I want her with me.

  “Your weight is one-hundred and eight. Last year, the chart said that you were at one-hundred and seventeen.”

  “I’m not surprised. My jeans are pretty loose,” Vivi admitted.

  “Let’s get your vital signs and into a gown before Dr. Yates examines you. Then I’ll get your grandmother.” Vivi would characterize the nurse as brusque. Not unfriendly, but not warm and fuzzy either.

  * * *

  “Hello, Vivi,” said Dr. Yates as he entered the exam room. He nodded at Nana.

  Dr. Yates was a popular family physician. Vivi thought he was compassionate and seemed very intelligent. He was of medium height, had a dark suntan, thick grey hair and a nose which took up a bit too much of his face.

  “You’ve been on the golf course or in a swimming pool,” said Nana.

  “I have. But I’m back and all business,” he said with a quick smile.

  He perched a pair of teal-green reading glasses on his nose while he reviewed Vivi’s chart. His brow furrowed and his gray eyes filled with concern.

  “Vivi, please tell me what is going on. How are you feeling?”

  Vivi told him she hadn’t felt well for about ten days. She had nausea, vomiting and stomach pain for the last twenty-four hours. And then Nana noticed her eyes were yellow.

  “Okay, let’s have a look,” he said, as he stood to examine her.

  He looked at Vivi’s skin, nails and the whites of her eyes. He placed his stethoscope on her chest and listened to her heart and lungs, and then gently palpated her abdomen, causing Vivi to wince in discomfort. He tapped from her right ribcage halfway down her abdomen.

  “Take a deep breath. This may be uncomfortable,” he coaxed.

  As Vivi inhaled, he pressed on the area he had just tapped, causing her to flinch in pain.

  After the exam, Dr. Yates pulled up a chair alongside her. “I have some more questions for you, Vivi. You need to be honest so we can get you better. Your liver is inflamed and causing jaundice—the yellow discoloration in your eyes. How much alcohol do you drink?”

  “None,” she answered directly.

  “Do you take Tylenol on a regular basis?”

  “I’ve only had it two or three times in my life.”

  “Any fever, chills or known exposure to hepatitis?

  “No.”

  “Do you take any over the counter medications or supplements?”

  Vivi hesitated for several seconds, then burst into tears.

  “What is it, honey?” Nana said, springing from her chair.

  “I’m so sorry, Nana. I shouldn’t have taken anything without talking to you and Dr. Chatterjee. But I’m trying to make decisions for myself.” She reached for a tissue.

  “What? Vivi, what have you been taking?” Nana’s voice rose.

  “Nana, chill out!” shot Vivi.

  Dr. Yates stood. “Vivi, would you like to speak to me in private?”

  Vivi pondered this but decided Nana would know the whole story either way.

  “No, it’s okay, but Nana, don’t freak out.”

  Nana sat and quietly nodded.

  Vivi held her eyes downcast as she spoke in a soft voice.

  “I’ve been taking kava, a supplement, for almost a month and it’s been helping my anxiety,” she admitted.

  “Kava?” questioned Nana.

  Dr. Yates interrupted, “Tell me exactly how much you’ve been taking.”

  She told them about buying the kava and stopping the Zoloft, the starting kava dose, as well as the increasing dosage according to instructions.

  “Kava can cause liver inflammation and even liver failure. It’s rare, but I have seen one case so far,” explained Dr. Yates.

  Vivi’s puffy eyes flooded with fear. “Doctor, can I die from this?”

  Dr. Yates took Vivi’s hand in his. “Vivi, I’m going to send you to the hospital,” he said calmly. “I think the fact that your grandmother made an urgent appointment, and more importantly, you’re being honest, means that we hopefully d
iscovered this before it becomes life-threatening. I’ll call the hospital and reserve a bed.”

  He stood and excused himself.

  * * *

  Nana drove Vivi directly to St. Lawrence Hospital and the car was quiet during the ride. Vivi had expected Nana to read her the riot act, but she didn’t. Maybe because she was so sick, Nana didn’t want to make her feel worse.

  As Vivi settled into the hospital bed, several staff members descended on her. One nurse who wore huge glasses asked questions while checking her vital signs. A bearded male nurse probed her forearm for “a good vein” to start an IV. A young, tattooed technician attached heart monitor wires to her chest.

  “Jason, are you having any luck?” asked the nurse.

  “Yup. It looks like she has a good one right here,” he answered while placing a tourniquet on Vivi’s upper arm, making the forearm vein stick out. "I’ll start the IV and draw the blood for lab at the same time, so she only gets one poke.”

  When Vivi and Nana were alone in the room, Nana finally spoke up.

  “Can you tell me why you decided to take the kava? Help me understand.”

  “It was on the shelf at the drugstore. I did some reading about it and thought it was worth trying. I wanted to take a break from prescription medications.” Vivi didn’t meet Nana’s eyes.

  “Did you read about the possible side effects?”

  “Every time I pick up my Zoloft script, there’s a whole pamphlet of side effects. It seems like that’s the case with all medications. At least kava is natural.”

  “Vivi, even natural supplements can be dangerous.”

  “I’m tired, Nana.”

  Nana stood and kissed Vivi on the forehead.

  “I’ll go and let you rest, honey.”

  “Okay. I love you, Nana.”

  * * *

  Dr. Yates walked into Vivi’s room early the next morning just after Nana arrived.

  “How are you feeling, Vivi?”

  “A little better. The nurse gave me some nausea medicine last night.”

  “Your test results show definite liver inflammation,” he addressed both Vivi and Nana. “The liver releases enzymes into the bloodstream when it’s injured or irritated. Your levels are elevated, but they aren’t terribly high. We’ll have to monitor them for a couple of days to make sure they aren’t continuing to increase. We will keep you hydrated with the IV, and I’m going to order an ultrasound of your liver.”

  Nana sat quietly; her forehead lined with worry.

  “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Vivi asked.

  “Theoretically, the liver could fail completely, and require a transplant.” His face expressed regret as soon as he said it.

  “Oh no!” Vivi’s face contorted in fear and Nana’s eyes widened.

  “But that is not going to happen to you, Vivi, I promise,” he said sincerely.

  * * *

  Vivi stayed in the hospital for three days. The ultrasound showed diffuse liver enlargement, but no tumors, focal abnormalities, or gallstones. Her liver enzymes started to descend on the third day. Dr. Yates felt that she could be monitored as an outpatient as long as she took no more kava.

  “I want you to avoid any alcohol, Tylenol, and contact sports for six weeks,” said Dr. Yates as he prepared to discharge Vivi.

  “Why no sports? Can I ride my bike?”

  “When the liver is enlarged, it’s more susceptible to trauma. Bike riding is okay as long as you’re careful. We’ll check your enzyme levels in a week, and I’ll see you in my office in ten days. In the meantime, call me if anything changes.” He scrawled on an order sheet and handed it to Vivi. “You can have your blood drawn at the out-patient lab and they’ll fax me the results.

  “Thank you, Dr. Yates. I realize that taking the kava was stupid. Should I restart the Zoloft?” Vivi asked.

  “It should be fine, but please double check with Dr. Chatterjee first. I’ll send her a copy of your hospital notes and labs.”

  As they left the hospital, Vivi felt as if she’d sidestepped a runaway truck. Would she ever be independent? Or would she always need people in her life to help with day-to-day decisions that seemed easy for everyone else?

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  1997

  Madison told Vivi that Jesse was sentenced to intensive probation, which entailed meeting regularly with a probation officer and remaining in house detention, only being allowed to attend school or work. He was expelled from their high school, had to attend sex offender counseling, and could not come in contact with anyone under age seventeen. Vivi mentally and emotionally washed her hands of him. He had been living in her head for far too long.

  * * *

  The next couple of years went fairly smoothly for Vivi, with just a few minor setbacks. She graduated from high school and asked Nana and Papa not to plan an open house for her. High school graduations were frequently celebrated with open houses, usually held at the home of the graduate. Food and desserts were served, and guests brought cards bearing congratulations and cash or a check. Astrid’s party was huge and fell on a bright, sunny early summer day. She had live music—her brother was in a band—and guests danced and stayed long past the ending time. Vivi enjoyed herself but would have been too self-conscious to be the center of a bash like Astrid’s, even though Astrid received nearly two thousand dollars in gifts.

  Nana was a bit disappointed that Vivi didn’t want a celebration.

  “Honey, you’ve worked so hard and made such progress. You deserve a party.”

  “I really don’t want one. But if you and Papa could give me what you would have spent, I would put it in my savings account to help with college,” she suggested.

  “It’s a deal, honey,” Nana agreed. “In fact, that’s a very mature decision and a lot less work.”

  * * *

  Vivi registered for classes at the community college the following fall. Nana and Papa were thrilled, having been unsure for many years what her future held. She stayed faithfully on the Zoloft and continued to see Dr. Chatterjee twice a month. But she resisted any further EMDR as it related to Jesse, and Dr. Chatterjee didn’t push the issue considering Vivi was currently emotionally stable.

  Vivi loved her classes, particularly anything related to technology. She was fascinated when the first Apple store opened and when iTunes was developed. She also enjoyed Sociology, learning how and why societies and cultures followed certain codes of ethics and mores. Between classes, she studied and drank coffee in the student union, which had several large tables and booths where students could sit down for a cafeteria-style lunch, study, or just hang out and socialize. The atmosphere was casual.

  One morning, Vivi was at her usual spot in the cafeteria reviewing notes for a quiz when she felt like someone was watching her. Looking around, she saw the usual cliques of students eating, reading, and goofing around. No one seemed to be paying her any attention. She returned to her notebook, but after a few minutes she felt a shiver down her spine, followed by an eerie presence. This time she saw a guy returning his used food tray across the room and she instantly felt sick. Was that Jesse? He turned his face away from her, but he had Jesse’s build and gait . Would he be attending school here? Vivi hadn’t heard a word about him since his sentencing and figured he was long gone, but anything was possible. The panic returned as quickly as the flick of a lighter. She sat motionless for several moments until the boy had left the cafeteria. Then she dragged herself to class and took the quiz, although she was too distracted to concentrate. The first one to leave the classroom, Vivi raced to the bus stop, avoiding any eye contact with other students. Her heart pounded the whole ride home, and she didn’t relax until she was safely ensconced in her bedroom. She feigned illness in order to refuse dinner or any interaction with Nana or Papa. She cried herself to sleep that night, sure that her life would never be normal. But when she awoke, the sun had risen, the birds were singing, and the coffee was brewing. She had survived the night without
leaning on anyone else.

  * * *

  One afternoon, Vivi and Shane met for a midweek dinner at his favorite Vietnamese restaurant. They placed orders for Goi coun, spring rolls filled with various vegetables and dipped in fish sauce, and Pho, a popular dish made with beef or chicken and rice noodles served in a salty broth. They discussed Shane’s DJ job and Vivi asked if she could come to work with him sometime.

  “Sure. I’m scheduled the next two weekends.”

  Vivi knew he worked diligently on his Communications Bachelor’s Degree. He had quit his job at the convenience store and thought he’d try his hand as a radio station disc jockey, having learned about broadcasting in his “announcing course.”

  The following weekend, she accompanied him for a shift. When they arrived at the station, Shane introduced her to his coworkers. They didn’t seem much older than college students, just a bit less scruffy, but a lot more focused, and gave off a welcoming vibe. One wore his hair long and, in a ponytail, and the other was a good-looking African American who wore orange, reflective glasses which gave him an artistic energy. Shane seemed to be at ease with them, sharing fist-bumps and inside humor.

  “The first thing I do, is see what snacks are in the breakroom.”

  They found a near-empty box of donuts and split the last powdered one while Shane brewed a fresh pot of coffee. After pouring their coffee into Styrofoam cups, they went to the locker room so Shane could retrieve his headphones. Next, he perused the printout for the music to be played during his show.

  “So, the songs are already chosen for you?” Vivi asked.

  “Yes, for the most part. But new ones get added to the music rotation on a regular basis.”

  He showed her a clipboard full of notes. “This is the promotions log that tells me what’s available to give away to listeners. It looks like we have two tickets to a Garage Blaze concert.”

  “I love them,” Vivi said. “At first I wasn’t into alternative music, but seeing one of their music videos, that changed.”