A Visit to Dissociation
*the photo's not mine*
There are moments in life that can never be undone.
Moments that shape or shatter your world.
So Hee knows this better than most--sheâs had her fair share of them, after all. When the call comes in from Reeâs doctor that he needs to go in due to some of his recent test results, she canât quite shake the feeling that this may be one of them.
She takes the afternoon off from work. Her job is important to her, but it's Ree, and he has always come first.
He shifts beside her, tapping his thighs, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. She canât blame him--Ree is alive in loud technicolor while the office is done up in cool hues and flat whites with inoffensive artwork along the walls. Itâs stifling for her, so she can only imagine how it is for him.
Across from them, his doctor adds some information into her tablet and glances up. âYour liver enzymes came back high.â
The sentence is simple enough, but even so the words take a moment to register, and when they do, So Hee wants some clarification. Actually, no; she doesnât--she really doesnât--because she knows where this is going...
She presses her palms over her suit pants, along the seam in an effort to settle her nerves. When that doesnât work she fidgets with the bracelet at her wrist--a nervous habit--but one that helps ground her. This isnât about her, she reminds herself--itâs about Ree-and no matter what comes next she will face it, because for him she would face anything. Taking a steadying breath, she asks: âWhat does that mean?â
"It means that we're going to have to try a different medication." Crisp and detached, the words come and So Hee wonders if the doctor even knows the impact of them.
Despite knowing they were coming, So Hee canât help but feel them like a kick in the gut. Her breath hitches and she swallows the abrupt knot of dread in her throat.
She feels, rather than sees, Ree stiffen beside her--his tapping coming to a halt. He hates when sheâs upset. It doesnât matter how well she thinks she masks it--he always knows.
"I don't want a different one." Ree finally says, his voice tight.
So Hee puts her hand on his knee, her thumb rubbing slow circles. She doesnât want him upset either--especially when she knows itâs not about the medication and more about her involuntary reaction.
"This medication has really been working well for him,â she presses the doctor. "We've had a lot of trouble with them before. We thought this was the one." She canât help the wistfulness that creeps into her voice. They were making progress. This was the longest âgood streakâ in awhile.
She had hoped that maybe there would be no more midnight bailouts, no more drunken fights, no more wild ideas and uncontrollable energy, no more fear that he would climb so high that the crash just may end him. That fear still chills her blood and keeps her awake more nights than she cares to count.
She knows itâs not his fault. She has never held his condition against him. She loves him. Have loved him for so long⊠If anything, his determination and grit has made her love him more. The fact that he gets up every day and tries, makes her so proud. It doesnât matter to her that he only works part time, or that he doesnât clean the apartment, or pay the bills. All that mattered was that he loved her and he was trying.
To get better.
To be better.
And they had been doing so good.
She is afraid for him. For what a switch could do. If itâs what they have to do, sheâll do it, but she wants it to be as smooth a transition as she can make it. So she makes sure the doctor understands where theyâve been before. Sheâs turning down medicines heâs been on, oneâs they canât afford, and some that just scare the living lights out of her.
In her peripheral vision she sees Reeâs gaze wander to the wall, resuming his tapping. Heâs tuning the conversation out. She feels her throat tighten a bit because she wants him to care but she understands that some things are just up to her to handle.
This is one of them, apparently.