My Brother Dr. Reese

Panic

"Mindy?  Love, wake up," Chad whispers.

I rub my eyes and roll over, burrowing deeper into the mattress.

"Min, you've got to get up if we're to get there on time,"

"But whyyy?" I whine.

"Do I have to bribe you with more Vicodin?" he grabs my wrist and pulls me to a sitting position.

"Yes," I yawn and cross my arms.

"Get dressed and brush your teeth, and I'll give you another,"

I dress in sweatpants and a hoodie, then head to the bathroom.  Brushing my teeth, I pace the same five feet of the bathroom over and over until my gums start to bleed.  When the metallic taste hits, I rinse in the sink and drag my feet to the kitchen, where Chad waits, water and pill in hand.

"How you hanging, Minty?"

I down the pill.  "I hate you."

He smiles.  "I know.  Let's get to the car."

In the passenger seat, my stomach starts to turn.  This is too real.  I can't do it.

Chad puts a hand on my arm, pulling out of the driveway.  "I'm right here, Mindy.  I'm right here."

I play with my hands, uneasy.

The drive to his office goes by fast, much too fast for my liking.  When we pull into the parking lot, Chad gets out, watching to make sure I do the same.

He takes me by the shoulder, guiding me inside.  The waiting room is empty, the receptionists just getting settled in.

In the doorway to the exam room,  I hesitate.  Chad is a little more forceful now, almost pushing me inside.

"Have a seat, Minty," he says, gesturing to a visitor's chair against the wall.

I sit down and put my head in my hands.  "I'm gonna puke.  I hate this place,"

He puts a trash can in front of me.  "You can if you need to."

I stand up, mumbling, "I gotta use the bathroom."

Light-headed from the smell, I stagger down the hallway and collapse on the bathroom floor, letting the cool tiles press into my face.

Later, how long I don't know, there's a knock at the door before it opens.

"Mindy, love, I'm coming in,"

Then he's sitting on the grimy tile beside me, one hand rubbing my back methodically.

"I think you forgot to lock the door," he says, stifling a laugh.

I groan.  "Wasn't exactly on my mind at the time.  I was more focused on not passing out from that awful smell."

"What sme-oh...yeah, sorry about that.  Usually before I bring nervous patients back, I set up aromatherapy fans so it covers that.  Why don't you come back with me and we can do that?"

I curl into a ball.  "Can't we just go home?"

Chad looks almost pained.  "Min, you know why we can't do that.  Please, just come back."

He helps me up and puts a hand on my back, leading me back to the exam room.  This time, he lets go of me less than two feet from the dreaded chair.

"Mindy, sweetheart, why don't you sit down while I set up the fans?"

I shake my head.

"C'mon, love.  Baby steps, one at a time.  Here, I'll help you,"

He stands beside me and takes one tiny step forward.  Fighting the unease in my stomach, I mimic him.  Again and again, until we're standing inches away.

"Now have a seat.  I'll do it first."

He slides easily into the chair, turning to sit normally. Then he leans into the vinyl, putting his head back, and exhales. There's a small smile on his lips.

"See? Nice and easy," he rises and comes to stand next to me again. "Now you try."

I want to be treated. I do. I want it to stop hurting.

I let that desire cloud my fear as a slowly approach the chair. Letting out a breath, I sit down. Perched on the edge, it's probably not helpful to Chad, but it's a start.

"Do you want to try sitting normally?"

My heart slamming my ribcage, I move my body until I'm seated as comfortably as I can. Chad smiles, encouraging me.

"Perfect. You're doing so good, Minty. I'm so proud of you," he moves to his stool by my head. "I'm going to lean you back just enough to take a look, okay?"

My lower lip wobbles and Chad wipes a tear from my cheek that I didn't even realize had fallen. "Take my hand, Min."

I look down and see his hand outstretched. His fingers wrap around mine, strong, warm, reassuring. I close my eyes and swallow convulsively before the chair tips back. My grip on Chad's hand tightens, and a moment later it's stopped moving.

"You can open your eyes now," Chad says. "I'm going to go get ready."

He releases my hand and then his back is to me. I hate this position. I feel exposed, vulnerable, almost naked.

"I'm right here, Mindy. Just going to wash my hands, and we can get started,"

A minute later, he turns back around, gloves on, a tray-thankfully covered with a sheet-in his hands. He sets the tray down and sits on his stool next to me.

"You're doing so well. Do you think you can open your mouth for me?"

I sigh before closing my eyes, putting my head back, and slowly opening my mouth.

Sorry, this one's a bit long!