Easing The Pain

What's The Deal Doc?

Yesterday went by rather quickly. I got to stay in my room for most of the day, using the excuse that socializing makes me anxious. I mean it does so technically it's not an excuse, but a reason. Today is pretty much the same, I wake up on my own and stare out the window. The trees blowing gently, the leaves beginning to change colors as autumn approaches.

As I daydream about my little getaway from home that I used to escape to, a knock sounds through the room. "Come in" I call out and the door opens shortly after revealing none other that Nurse Ratched. "Good morning" she utters, "morning" I echo. She seems to be in a slightly better mood.

"Dr. Hanover would like to see you in his office and asked me to retrieve you" she states, once again looking through me. "Ok. I just need to get dressed" I reply and she continues to stand there as if she didn't hear me. "Do you have to stay and watch? It's not like I'm gonna choke myself with my shirt" I chuckle.

"If you continue to make 'jokes' like that I'll have to stay" she quips, "sorry. I'll only be a minute" I apologize. "Very well" she sighs, leaving the room after a second and closing the door. I groan as I get up and get dressed, checking myself in the mirror. "I don't have all day, Ms. Pierce" Ratched grumbles from the other side of the door.

I don't answer, instead I just open the door and step out. She looks me up and down as I close the door, pursing her lips slightly. Without a word she starts walking and I follow her in silence, until it starts to get uncomfortable. "So... why won't you call me by my first name?" I ask her, "it's unprofessional" she replies flatly.

"Isn't that technically the other way around? Like if I called you by your first name..." I question, "respect is a mutual agreement" she answers. "Of course. I'm just saying that—well you said my comfortability is your top priority, right?" I ask. "I said patient comfortability" she stresses, "yes, and I'm a patient" I reply funnily.

"Mhm" she hums, "well it would make me a lot more comfortable if you called me Alex" I voice, it's quiet for a moment and soon we reach the office. She opens the door and allows me to go in first. I pass her and give her a soft smile to which she just stares at me. I take a seat in front of the desk and she moves to stand behind it on the side of Dr. Hanover.

"So... Alexandra I-" "Alex... please" I interject and he sighs. "Alex. As I was saying—I brought you here today to do a standardized questionnaire. Just to determine the best course of action for your treatment. Think of it as a preliminary therapy session" he explains and I nod. "Ok, let's get started" he states, "whenever you're ready" I reply sarcastically.

an hour later...

That was... interesting to say the least. He didn't tell me the conclusions of the test, only nodding. He did say that my initial 'diagnosis' was correct, but spoke nothing of the treatment he had planned. I left the room feeling icky for some reason. Something about this place felt off but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Dr. Hanover in general just seemed like a coot but I digress. I could just be reading into things like I usually do. Judging by the way he reacted to the results of my 'test' I assume not many lesbians pass through here. Hence his anticipation at getting me into treatment as soon as possible. I suppose I'm meant to be a lab rat of sorts now.

I managed to talk to some people yesterday in the time I was out of my room. There are women like me in here but they were simply diagnosed with hysteria. Their 'urges' dismissed by surrounding events in their lives. Apparently I'm different in that mine is more 'real' somehow. Whatever that means.

Nevertheless, Hanover said it's likely I'll start treatment tomorrow. What said 'treatment' is... I have no clue. What a fun surprise! I make it back to my room and lay down facing the ceiling. I wanna go outside. I'm not sure how long I have to put up with this in order to be 'cured'.

Hypothetically, if this treatment did work, who says I want to be straight? Did they ever even consider that maybe I'm happy the way I am? Who decided that I'm 'sick'? Well, if I am sick; I was born sick, and I love it. I would be lying if I said I wasn't the tiniest bit afraid. I'm scared shitless actually.

I don't know what these people are capable of and what lengths they're willing to go to. All I can do now is hope and pray for the best.