Page 11 of Guarding Grace
“None.” It seemed we were going to go through the entire concussion test.
After finishing with the list of symptoms and confirming my age, when and where I was born, and today’s date, he asked for the months in reverse order.
“December…” I’d had to do this several times, so I knew the drill. I went through them quickly and ended with, “February, January.”
“You skipped August,” the doctor informed me.
Before I could argue, Terry agreed. “You did.”
The doctor didn’t look pleased. “I’m going to categorize this as a minor concussion.” He checked his computer screen again. “You’re in luck. Dr. Chen is on the floor tonight. You’ve seen him before.”
I nodded. “Yes.” He was the neurologist I’d seen after my last fainting spell.
Terry was silent as we waited for Dr. Chen, who arrived about ten minutes later.
“Ah, Grace. I hear you’ve been a naughty girl again and hit your head.” He shook my hand.
I shrugged. “I couldn’t avoid it.”
He turned to Terry and offered his hand.
“Terry Goodwin, concerned friend.”
I couldn’t remember Terry referring to himself as my friend before.
“So tell me what happened,” Dr. Chen said.
“I was mugged,” I explained. “There was a lot of blood, and I forgot my tension exercise.”
“And?” he prodded.
“I forgot to close my eyes.”
“What about your desensitization exercises?”
I felt like curling into a ball of shame. “I didn’t get to them.” Not having time was an excuse. In reality, I was afraid of them.
“Well, young lady, I suggest you get serious about the desensitization kit. You do understand that the effects of these concussive incidents can be cumulative. At your current rate, you run the risk of serious damage.”
Terry’s face showed true concern. “Will the desensitization stop her fainting?”
I had the same question. Last time the doc had only said, “You should do this.” And I’d responded the same way I did to most demands—I’d rebelled. Not such a good idea in retrospect.
The doctor nodded. “The best approach would be to come to my office for sessions, but failing that, she can do sessions at home, and I believe they will help.”
“She’ll do them,” Terry said, like it was in order.
Vintage Terry to insist on making decisions for me—again.
His eyes shifted my way. “Won’t you?”
Trapped.“Sure. If it will help.”
“Do you still have the kit?”
I nodded. I hadn’t even opened it.
Dr. Chen typed on the keyboard. “I am also prescribing that you not be alone for the next twenty-four hours.”
