Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Dr. Alexander nods his understanding but doesn’t speak.
I do the same thing when I want a patient to continue. Silence is often more effective than words. People feel the need to fill empty space.
“And I’m lonely at home, too.” I take a shuddering breath and force the words out. “I’ve thought about dating. I’ve been alone almost two years… That’s long enough, right?”
Dr. Alexander splays his hands wide. “Only you can decide how long is long enough, Meredith.”
A half laugh escapes me. “That’s what I tell my patients, too.” I chew my lip and contemplate. Of course, there are apps for that—for dating. Maybe I’ll try one. It seems relatively anonymous. The sort of thing you can try out, then delete and pretend never happened. But my words remind me of something else coming up. “I get to start practicing again next month. I can’t believe it’s already been almost a year.”
“How are you feeling about that?”
“Good. I think. I mean, I’ll have to build my practice back up. Dr. Gerald Rodgers—maybe you’ve heard of him?—came out of retirement to cover me. He’s wonderful, but he’s in his seventies and has a different style than I do. Between him taking over and the headlines, almost half my patients left. So I’m a little worried about that, but I’ll just have to put in the time to rebuild. God knows I have nothing but time these days. And then there’s the worry about more signs or… worse.”
His brows dip. “Signs?”
“There’s a group, sort of like Mothers Against Drunk Driving, but they go after doctors who abuse their prescription-writing privileges. I walked by my office last week and found a flyer taped up on the bus stop with my face on it. And a while back, someone requested a copy of my file from the Office of Professional Misconduct. They can do that under the Freedom of Information Act, apparently. I’d originally thought it might be someone from the media trying to write a story. But now I think it might’ve been them.”
Dr. Alexander blinks a few times. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
I shrug. “It’s my own fault.”
“Still. That couldn’t have been easy.”
“No, it wasn’t. But I’m not going to let it derail me. I was in a good place before that. I ripped down the flyer I found. Though I have gone by the building every day since then to see if another one is up. Luckily, more haven’t appeared.”
Dr. Alexander smiles. “I won’t focus on it, then. Talk to me about how you’re feeling about returning to practice. Do you think you’re ready?”
“Yes.” And I do. Absolutely. But I’ve changed, and the way I see my patients has changed. I tell him as much, adding, “I’ll be a different psychiatrist after what I’ve been through.”
“Our life experiences can be invaluable in being empathetic to our patients.”
I nod, but my mind is elsewhere—back on the fact that my practice is barely staying afloat. My shoulders hunch. I worked so hard to build it, to not only make it successful but get to the point where it was thriving.
Again, thoughts of meeting someone seep in. Could I start over? Try my hand at dating? I swallow the lump in my throat.
Dr. Alexander peppers me with more questions—about day-to-day life, about my journaling, about my goals for this coming year. Eventually, he says, “Looks like our time is nearly up. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”
I shake my head, only half paying attention. The other half is still thinking about the dating apps. Would it be possible to love someone like I loved Connor? The Connor I married and was planning to have a family with, not the Connor who destroyed a family.
“Has your new routine changed lately?”
The question brings me back to reality. He’s asking if I’ve followed Gabriel again. Which I haven’t. I’ve been good. It’s been a month now. Not that temptation hasn’t reared its ugly head. I still wonder. Think of him almost daily. The fact that he’s happy…
“No, it’s pretty much stayed the same.” I force a smile. “I figure, if it’s not broken…” I trail off. “But it will be good to get back to work soon.”
“Excellent.” Dr. Alexander nods and writes more in his pad.
I leave a few minutes later, wandering out onto the streets listlessly. I didn’t bring gym clothes, so I can’t go there to keep myself busy. The stores are in the midst of their after-Christmas sales, and I stare into a cute shop window, considering going in. But I don’t need anything. It would just be a way to pass time. So I head home. Near the entrance of my building, my gaze catches on a couple kissing; they’re locked in each other’s embrace. The man’s hands cup her cheeks; hers are tangled in his dark hair. Passion.