The Doctor will see you.

Diagnonsense

Soon my ass, she thought with annoyance. It had been an hour and nineteen minutes according to the chess timer beside her. This set, -she told herself for the fourth time- looked medieval. She noticed again the details on the three inch tall dragon that represented the knight. She enjoyed  the captive Princesses atop the castle turrets. She was startled by a different nurse in very drab scrubs. Pale brown really, and this one was night to day from that Moira. "The doctor will see you," she intoned in a low voice. "Oh good, I was afraid you had come to tell me that you were closing for the day and didn't have time for me afterall." Jennifer replied. Oops, that was supposed to be an inside thought and now I'm babbling at her while she's walking away. She fought the urge to giggle with hysteria suddenly and realized she was starting to have a panic attack. She realized that Nurse Brown was speaking to her but she sounded so far away and tinny. She leaned against the hallway wall while feeling her heart beat too fast in her throat. She needed air, now. Panicked, she started opening doors in search of the way back outside, frantically shoving them open until she pushed one open and stepped through and right into a man's solid chest.
           "Whoa there girlie! Where's the fire?" The chest was speaking to her and holding her in place. "Outside! Please!" Jennifer gasped spinning around. "If you ask me, it looks like you're having some intense anxiety. You'll be just as fine in here as you would out there, you just need to sit down and breathe. Count your breath in 1-2-3 and out 3-2-1. There you go." Jennifer sat down on a bench and put her head between her knees breathing as he counted. After a few moments, she felt more present and looked up at the man standing in front of her. "Nurse Becky here is going to take your blood pressure just to make sure you're getting back to regular. I'm Dr. Richards, since you're the only client here I must presume that you are Jennifer McIlroy-Doyle? Of course you are! Welcome." She was breathing normally now and was feeling foolish that she had made a scene. Looking down at the floor, she told Dr. Richards that panic attacks were becoming a part of her everday life and getting worse.  She felt the slow release of the blood pressure cuff around her bicep. The machine beeped and broke the moment of silence. "She's okay. Maybe some water Doctor, I'll go get some and take it to your office." Nurse Becky sounded so enthused about this, Jennifer thought blandly. "Okay! Now that you seem more relaxed, are you ready to go to my office and begin your session? It's just up here, yes - just there. Go ahead," he was guiding her down the hallway and through a nearby door with one hand on her shoulder. She walked into the room slowly and chose a chair to stand in front of. "Sit! Please," he said. She sat nervously on the edge of the seat and waited for the barrage of questions poking and prying at her wounds. Seconds of silence turned into a minute, then two. "Where do you want to start?" they said aloud in unison. Jennifer laughed hesitantly. Dr. Richards cleared his throat and smiled; cradling his hands in his lap as he spoke. "Please, why don't you tell me what brings you here today? I'm going to take some notes, not the judgy kind; notes for things I want to tell you while we go along." He steepled his fingers and gestured to her with them and another smile. He's as cheery as Moira, she thought. She took a deep breath, here goes. Once she started, it seemed like there was no stopping. The floodgates had been opened and it was all out there now. Verbal diarhia, she thought after. All the thoughts, the feelings and the nightmares out and in his notepad that he scribbled furiously on while she spoke. She hadn't cried, it had come out of her in a rush of emotion, but there were no tears as with Jillian.  Dr. Richards nodded here and there and mentioned owning her emotions as she continued. She stopped for a sip of water and he said gently, "We're out of time my dear, and I have some thoughts to discuss before you leave." Jennifer nodded and kept sipping water. "He took a moment to scan his notes and look at her. "I believe we are dealing with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD in short. I'll tell you why though, first - the flashbacks - classic symptom! You are reliving a horror over and over and it is stalking your mind. The night terrors, They sound reoccuring and they get physical, for instance - you said that when you've woken up sometimes you have been reacting to the nightmare and are covering your face, screaming, crying - it all fits! It's affecting your life, your work - even your social interactions. You are becoming your trauma. We can work through this and you are not alone. There are many people out there with this disorder!"  He stood up and put a hand on her shoulder again. "We're going to get through this together Jennifer." She took a deep breath and tried to smile. "That sounds so good," she said quietly. "What's the first step towards that goal? I'd like to start as soon as possible."
"That's the other thing I wanted to discuss, treatment. First we'll start with your sleeping problems. You can't feel good during the day if you're not getting quality rest at night. I'm going to prescribe you Trazodone which will help you to fall asleep, deeply and through the night. In the morning you will wake up feeling refreshed. Half an hour before bed each night. When you come back again, we will discuss how that's working for you and see if we need antidepressants as well. If the Traz doesn't help your rest and the nightmares, we will book you in for the sleep clinic here for a weekend. Sound good?" He stood so she stood too, he got his pad from his desk and wrote the script for her and held her hand when she took it. "We're going to get through this." He shut the door behind her.