Destined

Scared

Sitting in the Neurologist's office, I hold Daryl's hand as we wait. All week he has been nervous about getting treatment that he hasn't been sleeping or eating much, which has made him irritable...as usual. The other day I didn't know what to think about him. I didn't know how I should look at the situation because it's been so long since  he actually opened up about anything that this was almost like a trick. But I know him. He may not be open about things, but he isn't a liar. That's one thing I can attest too. So we are here waiting together for Dr. Ghomber to come in.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." He says as he frantically shakes his leg up and down like he has restless leg syndrome.

"You have nothing to be worried about. They're just going to prescribe you medicine. That's it. And then we go and pick it and get refills when you need it. Don't worry." I lean over and peck his cheek.

"They're gonna make me go in that damned MRI machine and check my brain waves. What if it's not Bipolar, but a cancerous tumor?"

"Daryl stop...."

"Dammit I can't!" Standing up frustrated, he knocks a lamp off the Dr.'s desk and it breaks on the floor just as Dr. Ghomber  comes in.

"Well...I didn't much care for that lamp anyway. Didn't fit the flow of the office." The older man makes an excuse for Daryl. This obviously isn't the first item that was broken in his office. Daryl apologizes and sits beside me again. "Hello, I'm Dr. Milton Ghomber. So Mr. Dixon, I looked at her medical history and it does appear that you are Bipolar. Now, we can take care of the imbalance simply by putting you on a medicine. Ziprasidone is probably the best medication for you. It's typically used for Bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. Now there may be some side effects such as dizziness, nausea, lightheadedness, prolonged erection, sexual inability, sperm count decrease, a possibility or seizures, strokes, and or abdominal pain. If anything like this happens or worsens stop the drug and come and see me right away so we can try something else. But the chances of anything serious happening are 15%."

"Dr. Ghomber, should Daryl, hcch, possibly try therapy as well?"

"Actually, yes. There is a great support group that is held upstairs at least twice a week. I think that would really. Benefit you significantly Daryl. This group is for people just like you who may have only started treatment or has been in treatment for a long time. I think it's worth looking into because you know you're not alone." Looking at Daryl, I know this is so much for him to take in, let alone agree too. He won't go to therapy, who am I kidding. He barely talks to me. "I'm gonna start you on the medication and give you the colander for the group meetings. I'm requiring at least once a weeks visit with the group therapy. And if it's going well we may just stop it altogether if you both feel confident in your progress."

Daryl glares at me and I know I'm in for it when we leave, but he needs help.

***

I could kill her. I could fucking kill her! Seriously! Therapy! God damn it! Last thing I want is to be sitting around listening to people bitch about stupid shit.

"Alright. Let me just put in yer prescription and you can be on yer way." Dr. Ghomber stands up and leaves the room. The second he does, I just glare Beth down.

"Don't glower at me Sir. You need this and you're going. Unless yer too scared." She teases and I feel a thump in my chest as if my heart it my ribs and stopped.

"I ain't scared of nothing!" I angrily say and cross my arms. She snickers a bit before standing and pulling my head to lay on her chest.

"Oh that's right. My brace little man. Oh... shit don't move..." her voice becomes panicked.