August 22

A Chapter by Calypso

August 22

I felt pensive as I watched the clock in the music therapy room. Two o’ clock had come and I never heard anything from anyone. Of course I knew I shouldn’t expect someone come running to tell me my Dad was here. At 2:30 I cleaned up the piano and made the long, nerve wrecking walk to the conference room.

“Here she is now.” I heard Janna say as I stepped into the room. In the medium size conference room there was a long oblong table with Dad seated at the end, Dr. Small seated at the other end, and Janna and Dr. Mendel was seated at the left side. I was motioned to sit at the right of the table, completing the circle.

“How was practice today?” Janna started picking some sheets of paper.

“Good. Some more wouldn’t hurt though.” I don’t think I should have supplied that last part. The last thing I want them to think is that I am a perfectionist and hold me here longer.

Dr. Small cleared her throat and clasped her hands together. “I’ll start. Aelge your progress seems at times to go up a slick slope.” She then cleared her throat again and looked at a sheet of paper. “You relapsed earlier in the program, but that is common.” She glanced down at the paper and back to me. “You were caught walking around the building at night.”

I could feel Dad shooting a glance at me, but I didn’t turn around to look at him.

“All the same you have showed great progress. You never started a fight, you never cursed; angel child describes you well.”

I turned to Dad and saw him beaming. I wonder how many times he has heard this.

Dr. Mendel took his turn speaking. “It appears to me that when you were the hospital back in June they only gave you enough to get you out of the hospital. It’s sad that it does happen, but not uncommon. I believe you passing out when you relapse have nothing to the relapse itself.” He squeezed his chin with his left hand the whole time he spoke.

“What about now? How is she?” Dad asked. I heard a small amount of concern in his voice and for Dad that was a lot.

Dr. Mendel gazed down at his papers. “She’s healthy, but she still needs to continue with her vitamins and Prozac after she leaves.”

“When can she stop the Prozac?”

“When her therapist and doctor agree she can.”

Janna quickly irrupted, “We still haven’t talked about who her therapist will be when she leaves here.”

“I was given the phone number for one by a fellow pastor.”

I yelled, “I went Belle to be my therapist.”

There was a pregnant paused and finally Janna said “Belle Hall?”

“Yes. Please Dad, please?” I felt like a child who wanted a toy.

“Is that possible?”

“Well yes, we offer outpatient therapy and Belle is one of those therapists.”

“Is it really what want you want?”