After a career-ending fight, ex-professional-hockey-player-turned-Zamboni-driver Chase Cassidy has never looked back at the sport. He's perfectly content cleaning the ice between periods and chatting with fellow staff members, and running a pub outs...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chase
Four days later, I'm sitting in the waiting room, waiting to be called in by Dr. Ames. My foot is tapping against the flooring, in tune with the bass of the song playing. With every breath I take, I inhale the familiar scent of eucalyptus and mint. It's early enough that I'm the only person loitering in the waiting room (aside from the secretary, who's clacking away at her keyboard). It's quiet and peaceful, with a hint of anxiety.
So much has changed since my last session with Dr. Ames. And although I'm content with change, my mind feels scattered. I'm unsure about how to approach these remaining obstacles. Such as telling Lennon about my history. He's played an influential role in my healing journey. Plus, he's one of my best friends. He deserves to know. Especially now that I'm ready to tell him.
"Chase," Dr. Ames smiles. "I'm ready for you."
While Dr. Ames' professionalism and advice are the two main reasons I come back for sessions, I also enjoy seeing their outfits. I admire that they're able to express themselves with bold colours and patterns. It's like Spencer with her red lipstick: a trademark aspect of their personality.
Today, their suit jacket is magenta with subtle green accents and a green tie. Their pants are a darker green. Everything is paired together with their usual Converse shoes.
"Great," I say.
My clammy hands slide along my thighs as I stand. Anxiety is clawing at the back of my throat, making me wonder what the outcome of this session will be. Will I even be able to talk? Or will I succumb to a panic attack? It's happened before. My first session didn't go well.
Dizziness encompasses me when I'm standing. The room doesn't sway, but there's a subtle sway to my vision. It makes my stomach flip. My ears ring. But I push through it as best I can. Unfortunately, I have to stop in the middle of the doorway. I pause, closing my eyes and taking several deep breaths. I can hear Dr. Ames expressing their concern about me, but I have to focus on calming myself down.
Big changes have happened throughout these past few months, but there are even bigger ones that need to be discussed. Those changes are playing games with my heart and mind. I'm intimidated by the uncertainty of the consequences that could follow.
When the ringing in my ears dies down, I look at Dr. Ames and flash them a weak smile.
They're standing next to me, lips pinched to one side in an expression of concern. "We can reschedule if things are too stressful. Or just sit here and do a puzzle."
I shake my head, making my way over to the leather couch. "No, it's okay. I'm okay." I straighten my posture. "There's just... there's a lot going on. I want to talk about it."
Despite all the changes, everything in the room is the same. From the oak coffee table to the burning candle that smells like mint and vanilla. There's also an underlying hint of soil from the potted plants lining the wall. They stand tall in the dim rays of sunshine streaming through the window.
