Page 56 of I Know She Was There

“Based on your reaction right now, and what we discussed for months, Caroline, at the institute. As I said, the only thing you don’t want to tell me about your parents is what happened that day. The only thing you steadfastly refuse to talk about.”

“I don’t remember!”

“I think you do.”

“It doesn’t matter if I do or I don’t.” I looked into his hazel eyes, usually so compassionate, now so unyielding. “It’s over already.”

His gaze softened. “Am I upsetting you, Caroline?”

“No,” I said. But he was.

He smiled. “Let’s talk about something else for a while, shall we?”

I nodded.

“Do you recall all the release forms you signed in the hospital?”

“Sort of.” I shrugged. “There were a lot of them.”

“True. For your previous stay as well as this one.”

“You mean when I was in the psych ward?”

He nodded and held up the folder. “One of the forms was to access your childhood and family health records. You and your doctor—in this case me—have the authority to review not only your files but those of your deceased parents.” He placed the folder on his lap and opened it, revealing a sheath of white papers covered in notations.

“Oh, yes. Dr. Gleason’s records. My mom worked for the GP for years before he retired.”

“Hmm,” he said, glancing at the papers he was rifling through. “There’s nothing remarkable in your father’s records, but did you know your mother was being treated for bipolar disorder?”

Something slippery darted through my chest, flipping my heart over in its wake. “I had no idea.”

“She was on lithium citrate for years. It’s a mood stabilizer commonly used to treat the disorder. The problem is, it has a couple of harsh side effects. The most severe compromises kidney function. And your mother did indeed have renal deterioration.”

I took a deep breath, not sure why I suddenly felt so unsettled. I continued looking at the doctor, not knowing what to say.

“Your bloodwork suggests that you also have compromised kidneys.”

“Really?” My breath left me in one shot, like a balloon deflating.

He held a hand up. “It’s okay, Caroline. We can handle the kidney issue. We caught it early. Yet I wonder why you have it.”

“It’s probably genetic, right?” Adrenaline rushed from my chest to my limbs, as if preparing me for impending disaster.

“It could be.” He nodded. “Or perhaps you were taking lithium too.”

“Me?” I kneaded a brow with my pointer finger. “Did Dr. Gleason’s records indicate I have bipolar disorder?” That was all I needed. Another mental-health issue.

“No.”

“Then why would you think?—”

“You told me your mother played a little game with you when you were young. To get you to eat your veggies or take your medicine?—”

“Half a pill for you, and half for me,” I said. “But my mother?—”

“An adult dose of Lithium, even half an adult dose given to a young child on a regular basis, would cause a number of short-term and long-term problems.” Dr. Ellison spoke softly, as though his tone could counter the harsh message.

I willed the world to stop spinning. Why would my mother give me a medication I didn’t need? I asked the doctor what he thought about that.

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