Page 44 of Actions and Reactions
Everyone always said I’d be the best, and I clearly am not.
“Every day,” I repeat, and Dr. Denise doesn’t miss a beat.
“How do you feel when you talk about hockey?”
“Fine.”
“Can you try to name the emotion?”
“Nothing. I feel like . . . it’s my job.”
“Do you feel nothing often?”
“I don’t know if I’d say often.” I shift my weight a little, and spend a few seconds rearranging my right hand on top of the pillow it’s resting on. “I guess I’m just not much of an emotional person.”
“Would you say you’re an angry person?”
“No.”
“An irritableperson?”
“No.”
“A happy person?”
“No.”
Fuck.
She doesn’t ask any more questions, just nods and stands.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne.”
“Wait,” I cry out. “Just... What’s the result?” I don’t even know if that’s the right question.
“I need to confer with a colleague, but I’ll come by later to talk to you.”
“Okay.” What can I do but accept it? “Have a good day, Dr. Denise,” I think to say before she leaves.
And then my parents are back.
And they’re worried.
And they want me to talk to them.
And I just . . . don’t.
The male doctorfrom the day before comes by just as I’m getting my lunch.
I throw back my pills and swallow them dry, then take a few gulps of the water bottle they brought me. “Thanks, Kate,” I tell the nurse. She pats my shoulder with a smile and when I look again, Dr. Denise is there too, as well as another woman.
“A full house,” I murmur, trying to defuse the tension I can feel coming from my parents.
“Mr. Wayne?—”
“Please call me Silas.” I interrupt Dr. Kekoa.
“Silas,” he amends with a nod. “We’d like to talk to you about your prognosis and our recommended treatment moving forward.” There’s a beat of silence and I don’t know why.
