Motel 6 // n.h

[31] Doctor

  "You're Aimee?" He asked in a small voice. She nodded, her hand shaking furiously. He nodded and looked over her records, looking at Avery. "It says on here that she has PTSD. Can I ask what that is about?"

  Avery looked over at me, but I smiled, trying to make her feel better. She sighed and nodded.

  "We were both in an abusive situation." Avery said, trying to come off very professionally. The doctor nodded and wrote things down on his notepad.

  "Can I ask what happened with that?" He asked, suddenly a lot more interested.

  "My previous boyfriend would... uh, hurt both me and my daughter. Just recently we left him, but the last doctor we saw thinks that Aimee has a form of PTSD... probably from those situations." I could tell that Avery was so uncomfortable, but I also knew that I couldn't cover for her since I wasn't actually there.

  "I see." The doctor nodded. "Well, yes, I assume that is what it's from. There are a lot of things we do for PTSD to treat it and I suggest you at least do one of these. There's always meds that she can take, now I'm not sure how strong the dosage could be because she's so young. There's also counseling, which could either work very well or not well at all. It all depends on the person."

  "And for the meds," I stepped in. "Would they be a daily thing or do we give them to her when these panic attacks come on?"

  The doctor bit his bottom lip, deep in thought. "It depends. There are medicines for both, but then again I'd have to see which would be best for her since she's so young. How does that sound, Aimee? You want to get all better?"

  She nodded, her eyes droopy. These panic attacks seemed to drain her of her energy.

  "I'll prescribe you a medication that I think will work and she can take daily, and I'll also write down a list of counselors that I recommend to my patients who deal with anxiety disorders. They can be extremely helpful and crucial for healing and overcoming these obstacles." He started scribbling on his paper, and I could see Aimee coming back from her panic attack.

  "How ya feelin', princess?" I asked her, sitting by her and Avery on the bed. She yawned and smiled, crawling up to me and curling up in my lap.

  "I'm sleepy, daddy." She pouted.

  "I know baby, you can sleep after this." I promised her. "And I'll let you watch a show on Netflix, okay?" Aimee seemed happy by this, and she was starting to look like herself.

  "How long does the usual panic attack last?" Avery asked the doctor.

  "Anywhere from 30 seconds to hours, it depends per person. But a part of medicine and counseling is getting rid of these panic attacks, so hopefully with those two tools everything will work out. It might take time, but you'll see improvements. If you don't, contact me." He handed over a slip of paper and another with his business card on it.

  "Thank you, doctor." I smiled, shaking his hand.

  "This is very unprofessional of me, but could I get your autograph? My daughter is a big fan." He blushed. I laughed and nodded, grabbing the doctor's clipboard and pen.

  "Who should I make it out to?" I asked.

  "Uh... Robert." The doctor blushed more, and I tried so hard not to laugh. It was obvious that this autograph was going out to him, but I didn't point it out. I scrawled on the tablet and smiled. Tom showed him out of the hotel and I sat beside the girls on the bed.

  "How're ya doin', Aim?" I asked her. She shrugged and crawled up to me.

  "I wanna swim, daddy." Aimee said. "I'm not sleepy anymore, I wanna swim. In a pool." I could see her getting excited as she kept on talking. It was a bit weird, I figured since she'd just had a panic attack that she would be tired, but she seemed to be fine.