Part 17 (2/2)

”No!” I cried.

The pain of the metal ball beginning to turn in my chest made it harder for me to breathe. The pain grew sharper with each pant. ”I'm going to die,” I admitted to Dr. Cuvo. My eyes rolled back and I shut them.

Dr. Cuvo grabbed my hands. My head jerked back. He caught my head in his left hand and he placed his right hand on my cheek. He turned my face towards his. I tried to turn away, but he wouldn't let me.

”Open your eyes, Kristen,” he said in a gentle voice.

I was afraid to open my eyes, because I still felt his warm hand caressing my face. I felt his breath on my skin.

I slowly opened my eyes, confused. I wanted him to let me go. When my eyes were open, I saw his deep, dark eyes still staring at me.

”Kristen,” he said softly. ”Breathe.”

My breathing and the spinning, metal ball in my chest began to slow down.

”No,” he said. ”You're not going to die.”

”But it hurts,” I cried softly.

He said, ”I know. That's the only way we can get through the pain. It's going to hurt before it gets better. You have to get it out of you.”

I sighed.

”Come here,” he said as he suddenly pulled me closer towards him. His hand went from my cheek to my shoulder down to my back. Then his arms wrapped around me, and he squeezed me gently. I realized he was hugging me. ”It is okay, Kristen. Put your arms around me.”

Confused, and suddenly feeling awkward, I did as he told me to. When my arms were wrapped around him, he pulled me even closer, making our torsos touch. Dr. Cuvo stroked my back with his hands. This quickly began to calm me, but when I realized I was breathing normally again, I began to feel awkward.

Scared, I called out to him softly, ”Dr. Cuvo?”

”Kristen,” he moaned in a soft and deep voice. ”It's okay.”

”Dr. Cuvo, I am sorry to interrupt, but I was looking for you because--” the familiar voice burst through the door.

Suddenly there was complete silence. Dr. Cuvo and I were not wrapped in each other's arms any longer. Dr. Cuvo was now standing with his back turned to Geoffrey and me. He stood up and walked over to the window. He shuffled around with his clothes and wiped his face.

”What? What is it?” Dr. Cuvo asked Geoffrey without looking at him.

Geoffrey c.o.c.ked his head and looked at Dr. Cuvo's backside, then looked at me, and then back at Dr. Cuvo. He stared at Dr. Cuvo suspiciously and said, ”I'm sorry I didn't knock. Karen told me that you were going to bring Kristen to your office for her session. I went to your office, and you weren't there, so I came here to see if by chance we'd catch up with each other.” Geoffrey paused and looked at me. ”Uh-I just wanted to let you know that Kristen needs to come to the gym when she's finished. That's where everyone is. Sorry to disturb you.”

”Thank you, Geoffrey,” Dr. Cuvo said. ”We were just finis.h.i.+ng up. I'll bring her.”

Geoffrey nodded. He turned away, but he spun back around and looked at me. ”Are you okay, Kristen?”

I nodded and looked away from him.

He looked over at Dr. Cuvo, who still seemed to be pretending to look out of the window. ”Okay,” Geoffrey said. He exited the room.

Dr. Cuvo turned around and looked at me. He hurried over to the door, opened it, and stuck his head out. He came back inside and closed the door. He picked up my chart and sat down in the chair facing me. He began writing in my chart.

I sat still, not knowing what to do. I was confused, and I felt awkward. I looked down at my hands and tried to concentrate on picking at my nails.

”Kristen,” Dr. Cuvo called out to me.

I looked up at him.

”I'm going to increase your Risperdol to two milligrams. You'll start that dosage tonight. I am going to keep a close watch with this increase. I want to eventually get you up to three milligrams to stabilize your mood swings.”

He wrote a few more things in my chart, and then he closed it, stood up, and stretched his hand out. It was the end of the session, and it was time for the end-of-session handshake.

I shook his hand. With my hand in his, he tightened his grip and helped me get up and off the bed by giving me a yank.

He smiled and said, ”Come on. I'll take you to the gym.”

”I thought I had to be Level Three to go to the gym,” I said as we left the room.

”If the whole unit is in the gym, those who are not Level Three may go to the gym, too.”

”When can I go to Level Three?” I asked.

”We'll see. I need to see more improvement in your session with me and in your group therapy. Do you see this chart? Your counselors and the other doctors who run the groups write notes on your behavior and your partic.i.p.ation after every group.”

Dr. Cuvo stuck his key in the door that led us out of the Adolescent Unit. He opened the door for me and let me out first. He followed behind.

”They write in all of our charts?” I asked.

”Yes, everyone's charts,” he a.s.sured me.

”That's a lot of work,” I said.

”And it takes a lot of time,” he admitted to me.

”Why don't you moderate any groups?” I asked.

”This is the gym,” he said as we came to a stop at a large, wooden door with a sign that read GYM. ”Goodbye, Kristen.”

”Bye, Dr. Cuvo,” I said.

He started to walk away, but he stopped and came back over to me. He kept walking closer to me, and I backed up and hit the wall. He shocked me with how close he was standing to me. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it hard, practically pinning me to the wall. He looked around and then turned his attention to me. He leaned his face close to mine. ”Whatever we do and whatever we say in our sessions together are to be kept confidential, Kristen. Remember that. Okay?”

He was so close to my face that looking up at him almost made me cross-eyed. ”Okay,” I said nervously.

”Okay,” he said. He backed off, looking around while straightening his tie. ”I'll see you later.” He walked away, leaving me alone in the hallway.

I leaned against the wall, trying to make sense of what had just happened. I closed my eyes and tried to get my thoughts together before I went inside. I didn't really want to go, but I had to.

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