Mom doesn't come to the hospital like the EMT said she would. Mark does. He left work early and says mom's too emotional to come face all of this. I wasn't really expecting her to come, so why does it hurt so bad that she's not here? After the ride over they take us to the lobby to wait and I wonder why they made me come at all if they didn't think it was an emergency. I shouldn't have agreed. Part of it was out of spite to Mom.
None of us are saying anything while we wait. I think Mark and Drew don't know how to handle me. They must think I'm too unstable and will break down if they say the wrong thing. When we first got here Drew gave his dad a look like he wanted to speak to him alone. Mark just grimaced when he saw it and shook his head like now wasn't the right time. "Max." Looking up from the carpet I've been staring down at, we all stand to follow the nurse back into a room quietly. I wish someone would say something, anything to make this nauseous sick feeling of the unknown go away inside me. I wish someone would say it's all going to be ok because even though I wouldn't believe them, it would be a softer blow than the fall to the bottom I'm feeling now.
The nurse closes the door behind us turning and motioning to the chairs for us to sit in when she sees we're all still standing awkwardly. "Hi Max, I'm Sharon. I'll be your nurse today. I'm just going to take your vitals and then Doctor Newman will be right in to see you. Is that ok?" What does she expect me to say? No? What good would that do? They would just insist on it anyway. Why does everyone keep asking me questions today like my answer matters? My heart speeds up in a bad way again and I know she'll notice it too.
"Sure," I say moving to sit on the edge of the examination table. I watch her take and retake my blood pressure three times not saying anything. I'm sure it's too high. But she doesn't take it a fourth time and just smiles up at me with a soft phony look that I'm really starting to get sick of.
"Is everything looking ok?" It's Mark who finally asks like it's not obvious enough that it isn't. I want to roll my eyes. But I'm pretty sure my laughing earlier already has them concerned enough without me bringing an attitude and getting myself in even more trouble.
"Doctor Newman can go over everything with you shortly. He'll be in in just a minute." She says closing the door behind her and leaving us in the terrible consuming quiet again. I can't take any more eggshells.
"Sorry I freaked you guys out," I say clearing my throat awkwardly. "Especially you Drew. But I'm ok really, there's nothing to worry about. This just sort of happens sometimes." I instantly regret saying the last part as I watch their faces drop and then harden.
"Max, you almost got hit by a fucking car!" Drew lets out frustrated. I had?
"Oh." Drew doesn't seem impressed by my lack of response so I try again to ease the tension. "Guess I forgot to look both ways before crossing the street."
"Jesus Christ this isn't fucking funny, there's something seriously wrong with you! I think you're fucked in the he-"
"DREW!" It's a sharp cut off from Mark but I've heard him and his words sink into a place I try not to let myself show. A very dark place in the back of my head where I keep the truth I already know. A place that makes me feel very frightened and abandoned. "That's enough. There's nothing wrong with you Max....." Mark trails off his sentence leaving the ending blank because he's not sure how to say that there actually is something wrong with me nicely. Just tell me that everything will be ok. Please, somebody just tell me that lie.
"It's ok. It-" I'm not sure how to finish my own sentence so I go back to looking at the ground and we sit in silence again. It's another long uncomfortable five minutes of shifting my eyes between the clock and the tiles before the door opens behind me.
"Hi guys, I'm Doctor Newman. You must be Max, why don't you tell me a little bit about what brought you in today." He says jumping right into it and turning to look at me. My palms are clammy. I tuck my hands up into my shirt as I try to give my best shot at summarizing the situation in front of us.
"I... I think I had a- a large... um, a bad.... I think I had a panic attack. I mean I did. I did have a panic attack, that's what happened."
"Do you get panic attacks often?" He says turning away from me a moment to look something up on his computer.
"Sometimes, they really aren't that bad though."
"You're downplaying it!"
"Drew stop." Mark seems angry now, not just frustrated like before when he was trying to be more sympathetic to Drew.
"That's alright, it can be quite helpful to hear from other people present during an attack because the person who went through it might not always remember as clearly what happened to them. I'll ask you some questions about that in a minute. But for now, I'd just like to hear from Max in his own words what he thinks happened." I don't like the way he says thinks like I won't tell my own story accurately. I know what happened. It happened to me, and it's happened before.
"I know what happened," I say trying to sound less irritated than I am. "I had a panic attack, it happens sometimes. I don't need anyone else's input on what happened to me." Doctor Newman is facing me again and nods as I talk but not in a way that makes me feel heard.
"Do you get panic attacks like this one often?" Like this one? It wasn't special, it wasn't that bad... was it? I hadn't fainted, I hadn't gone completely missing into myself. Something has to be seriously wrong with me, I feel sick. My head is pounding and I think I might throw up. Was this supposed to be a really bad one? Had this been considered something significant? Oh god, oh god. I think it was considered something significant.
"Is there something wrong with me? Am I broken?" I don't remember ever sounding like this before. So quiet and resigned in myself. Even at my lowest, I don't know if I had ever actually allowed myself to fully absorb this truth. I wasn't at risk of falling, I had fallen. I hadn't missed being hit by that car today, I had already been hit by one. Time and time again a constant loop.
"No Max," I look up crying as Doctor Newman speaks. "Lots of people struggle with mental health issues and panic attacks for a lot of different reasons. That doesn't make them, make you broken. It just means you might need a little help. So that's all we're doing today. Just seeing how we can help." His words ring in my ears only I have trouble processing them because I am different. Isn't that what Drew had just said, isn't that what everyone had been thinking all day? That this made me worse than others? That there was something seriously fucked in my head? "Max, just take some deep breaths for me ok? You aren't in any trouble." Had I been breathing funny again? It didn't feel like I was panicking, just like my chest was hollow and the room might start spinning sideways. "Max, just take a deep breath in with me ok?" Nodding at Doctor Newman, I try to focus in on him through the tears so I can see his face as I follow along with him.
When I stop taking in air differently, the room is silent again for a long moment like everyone is worried about speaking and turning my axis on its head again. "I'm ok," I say not sure that I really am but not wanting to have to sit in this tension anymore. "You can," I start up before stopping to clear my throat hoping it will sound less raw. "You can ask me more questions now."
"I think maybe we should give you some space from those for a little while so we don't add any more pressure on you or your body."
"Ok."
"Why don't you rest and I can come back in a little bit?" No, no, no. This is not what I wanted. I could not keep sitting here waiting for answers to things, waiting to see what would happen. He couldn't leave us here. No more waiting.
"No!" I pause when I realize how I've just spit the word out. "I mean I would actually appreciate it more if we finished our conversation now..." I trail off immediately feeling less confident then a second ago. I do my best not to fidget or break eye contact with him as I speak. "I don't like, I'm not doing well with the waiting part...." I'm not describing this right, he doesn't like my answer. I can tell from the look on his face. "I'd just, do I, do we need to keep waiting here? Couldn't I just go home now? Can we be done now? I'm not going to hurt myself if that's what you're so worried about. I'd never do that, and I'm already getting help. I'm seeing a therapist. I've been evaluated before too." I'm rambling because it's hard to tell if he's just listening or if he's hearing me. I close my mouth when he turns back around to his computer and starts typing again. This wasn't helping anything. I was just digging my own-
"You said you have been evaluated before, was that by your psychiatrist? Do you remember how long ago that was or what the results were?"
"I- I don't know, a couple of years ago now." It's been longer than that, I'm just hoping he won't find anything in my chart. He hmmms still typing. I try not to mind that Mark and Drew are still here, but I don't like them eavesdropping. Especially if he does find my records. I know the more Mark hears the less he'll think of Mom and me and the sooner we'll be gone again. What am I supposed to do when he throws us out? How am I ever supposed to fix myself? Stop, you're thinking too much and you're going to panic again if you don't slow down your own head a little.
"Here it is." He says pausing again and then hmmming before clicking around a few times. "And how long ago did you say you started Therapy? Our records show that you have only been in for an intake last week?" Was it really only last week? It seems like such a long time ago now. Turning from the computer Doctor Newman looks more than unimpressed. He looks irritated in a way I don't think he's supposed to be showing me.
"I-" I'm trying not to say the wrong thing except instead of thinking of the right thing to say nothing comes out at all. His face gets even angrier looking.
"Max, I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you. I'm very concerned about you not getting the help you need and the condition you are currently in. Not just mentally either. You are having severe panic attacks and what appears to be blackouts. That's not good for your body, brain, or your heart. Your blood pressure is significantly elevated out of range too. At this point, I think it's best that we bring in a psychiatrist to evaluate where you're at and go from there. Your diagnosis isn't something you should be taking lightly Max," he says letting me feel momentarily relieved he doesn't say more with Mark and Drew in the room. "And frankly it disturbs me that your mother isn't here with you today. I have half a mind to bring in a social worker as well." My heart leaps out of my chest and I let in a sharp breath holding it there. "But it's clear that your stepfather and brother care a lot about you and at this point, I think removing you from your current environment so suddenly would only worsen the problem." This time I hear Mark let in a shaky breath. "Sharp change like that can be difficult for someone in your condition to handle. I'll let them know you're situation and someone should be in shortly to see you." He doesn't wait for us to say anything before the door closes behind him.
Everything can be felt in the air and for the first time since we got here, I turn to fully look at Mark and Drew. Mark's crying and Drew has his fists balled up so tight they're white as he glares down at the floor. I look away quickly. "I'm sorry."
"Why the hell are you apologizing? You haven't done anything wrong." Drew and I make eye contact again. Everyone is crying now and I just want to disappear. To hide in my bed for another week and have us all forget everything that's happened today. I want to go back to how things felt before I came to terms with the fact that I'm broken.