Living to Loving

Chapter 23

"Gemma, let's go!" Mom calls down the hall.

I call for Roxy, then head to the front door with Mom. The new meds have started to kick in, and my PTSD had started to subside. I have an appointment with a new therapist today to see if I'd like them. But we were leaving almost an hour and a half early for it.

I checked my watch again, just to be sure.

Mom must've caught me. "We're going to the doctor's office first," she explained.

I fidgeted with Roxy's harness, staring at the floor. "Oh. Okay."

"Come on, girlie," Mom says, pulling at my arm.

I glance up and follow her to the car.

When we pull into the doctor's office, I recognize it vaguely like the one I was in with Daniel. When the nurse calls us back, it's full of the same child's play toys. I curl my lip. Why am I sitting here with a bunch of children's toys? I'm fifteen- almost sixteen.

"Hi, Miss Gemma," the doctor says. "We didn't get properly introduced last time. I'm Dr. Lancaster. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," I mutter, not meeting her eyes. Roxy presses her nose into my knee, looking up at me.

"I'm a childhood and adolescent developmental specialist," Dr. Lancaster says. "I specialize in cognitive, neurological, and psychological development. I work with a lot of kids with Down Syndrome, ADHD, Tourette's Syndrome, and more. I help them maximize their potential and help them with some of the things they struggle with."

I look up. "What?"

Dr. Lancaster looks at me with a look of empathy. "Your mother's been coming here for a few months, talking to me, and telling me all about you."

"Do I have a developmental disorder?" I ask quietly.

"You cut right to the chase, don't you?" Dr. Lancaster smiles. "I'm not sure yet. Your mother says you display some symptoms related to a developmental disorder, but many developmental disorders mimic mental disabilities."

"Like what?" I ask, rubbing Roxy's back.

"Your mother says you have some problems in social situations?" Dr. Lancaster asks. Her tone is kind, but I suppose she was trained that way.

I nodded.

"And some problems with writing?" Dr. Lancaster asks.

I nod again. I've always had problems with writing.

"And you don't like to look people directly in the eyes?" Dr. Lancaster presses.

I nod again. It makes me uncomfortable.

"So I'm going to have you take a few cognitive function tests, and emotion function tests to see if your mother and I are correct," Dr. Lancaster explains.

I look down and gave a quick nod. "Yeah. Okay. Right."

Mom and I head to the car. after I had finished everything Dr. Lancaster wanted me to do. The next stop was the new therapist.

"Do you think I have a disorder?" I ask Mom in the car.

Mom shrugs. "I don't know. But you've been struggling for a while, and I think it could be a possibility. That's why I wanted to get you tested."

I looked down. "Okay."

We walk in, and a lady stands by the front desk, talking to the man behind the desk. "Okay, but what if-"

She stops when she notices the man beckoning to us. She looks up and smiles. "Hi!" her voice is bright and inviting, like all other therapists I've ever been to, or that my mother has made me go to. "You're Gemma?" she asks me.