A Family Affair(65)

“My kids are staying with me now,” she said.

“I’ve always been welcome in your house in the past,” he said. “I’m sure I can behave honorably in front of the kids. I’ve known them since they were born.”

“I just don’t want you to have any expectations!”

“God forbid!” he said, but he laughed.

Anna sat at Chad’s desk, facing the computer monitor. She never liked using his office for any reason. For so many years it was off-limits because his counseling work was strictly confidential. She faced the man’s face for the video conference.

“I suppose I should thank you for seeing me this way,” Anna said to the man. “It saves me a trip into the city. But I’m not sure this is necessary.”

“It’s nice to meet you, your honor,” he said, offering a warm smile. “We meet at the suggestion of your daughter. I’m Dr. Tom Norton.”

“How do you know my daughter?” Anna asked.

“Didn’t Jessie tell you how we met?”

“I’m very forgetful these days,” Anna said, though truthfully she had recovered most of her memory. Just the few days surrounding the stroke were still blank and might always be so.

“I met Jessie a couple of months ago and she called me and asked me if I’d have a session with you via video. She wondered if talking about your medical emergency would help in your adjustment. What do you think?”

“We’ll see,” Anna said. “Are you planning to ‘shrink’ me? I was married to a therapist for over thirty years so I’m quite up-to-date on the buzz words.”

“I was thinking maybe we’d have a short conversation about anything you like,” Dr. Norton said in a very good-natured tone of voice. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

“My daughter, who is your patient...”

“So you do remember how it is I know Jessie,” he said almost teasingly.

“She has strapped herself to my side and it’s time for her to go. She has important work to do. She has patients to tend to.”

“Don’t you think she’s capable of making that decision for herself?” Dr. Norton asked.

“She doesn’t need to worry about me,” Anna said.

“Ah. Well, my experience is that worry and need are usually mutually exclusive. People never worry because they need to. They worry when they can’t seem to stop themselves. You’re the one who has had a significant medical event. Are you worried about anything?”

“I’m worried about everything,” Anna said. “But mainly I’m worried that I’m the only parent left to my children and they’re not quite ready to be abandoned. They have always depended on me. And I’m not at my best. I wonder if I ever will be again. I’m walking a tightrope now. I’ve had a stroke! There is a danger of another, and one more debilitating.”

“You feel vulnerable,” the doctor said.

“Extremely!”

“And am I correct in believing you are not used to the feeling? It doesn’t come along often?”

“When it has, I knew exactly what to do,” she said. “This time it’s beyond my control.”

“I don’t usually correct people when they explain their feelings, but this is not beyond your control. You have excellent medical supervision and are following the doctors’ orders. And your health has been described as excellent.”

“It could happen again just the same,” Anna said. “I want to face it head-on, plow through the uncertainty, go back to work, get my children back on track, and I’m too distracted. And I tire so easily.”

“Have you talked to your doctors about the lack of focus and the tiredness?” he asked.

She nodded. “They say it’s normal and I should be patient. And maybe walk a mile a day. With a walker!” Then she snorted derisively.

Dr. Norton smiled. “Sounds easier said than done. The walking shouldn’t be a problem. May I suggest something else?”

“You can always suggest...”

“It’s not uncommon for people recovering from a major medical event to struggle with depression. I wonder if—”

“Do I look depressed?” she snapped.

“Depression is not often diagnosed through appearance, but it does hide itself in impatience, confusion, exhaustion and uncertainty. If you’d like, I can confer with your doctor, your neurologist, about a mild antidepressant that works with your other medications. Tell me something, are you struggling with feelings of hopelessness or thoughts of dying?”

“I’m afraid to tell you anything,” she said. “It sounds like you’re going to recommend more drugs! And I’ve never before taken so many drugs!”

“Let me explain, your honor—”

“For God’s sake, call me Anna!”

He smiled. “And please, you can call me Tom. Everything you’re feeling is normal. Okay, normal is a bad choice of word. It’s typical. That’s better. You’ve had a bad experience and there are some lingering side effects that will diminish in time. We might be able to speed up the process with a few sessions and perhaps an antidepressant or antianxiety medication. But it’s your choice.”