He gave her a tight smile and took a seat beside her. Ru on the other side of him. If Ru said Tommy looked like a lawyer, his father looked like one too. Who wore an Armani suit to try to get their kid locked up? Tommy only knew the brand because Ru had muttered it when they walked in. Should Tommy have been wearing something as high end? He glanced down but Ru leaned over. “It’s Hugo Boss, you’re fine,” Ru muttered.
“Good to know how he’s spending my money,” Tommy whispered back.
“Tommy, this is Dr. Cathen. Your father’s choice of psychiatrists,” Dr. Brigham offered.
“Thomas,” Dr. Cathen nodded.
“It’s Tommy, or Mr. Foster.” Tommy corrected. He hated Thomas as he was not ever going to be junior anything in his life. “Are there more doctors coming? Dr. Brigham is triple certified, psychology, internal medicine, and holistic medicine.” He looked over the man. “She’s overseeing my care from three other doctors.” He glanced her way. “And a nutritionist, a physical therapist, and my regular therapist.”
“They are available as well, but I will call them in only if needed,” she gave him a warm smile. “I have all of their reports here.”
“Only me, Mr. Foster,” Dr. Cathen stated, reverting to his surname. “This is a basic visit, an overview, of sorts, to get a feel for your care.”
“Everything is documented, isn’t it?” Tommy asked.
“I would like to get a feel for the level of care you’re receiving. Not all of the practices here are standardized or even recognized by the National Health Organization.”
“I’m not certain why that matters to you. You’re not my doctor.” Tommy’s gaze fell to his father. “I’m not a child. And I have chosen what type of care I receive.”
“And if these people are wasting your money?” Thomas Foster demanded.
“What does it matter to you? It’smymoney. MoneyIearned.” He was getting angry. For his long list of issues, violence had never been one of them. The rage felt strange. He cataloged the emotion, took a moment to hold it in mental hands and examine it as it had been a long time since he felt anything like it. Hot, and wild, he’d locked it away a long time, but it burned intensely, like newly awakened. But he’d been told that as the panic faded, other emotions would shift and change, sometimes becoming more as they found their place. Now was not the time to explore his anger.
He let out a focused breath. “Let’s be done with this. Ask your questions. I will answer what I want and how I want. If it’s something specific to my recovery that Dr. Brigham may know, she is authorized to answer.”
Both the doctor and Thomas Foster looked like they had swallowed slugs, but Tommy didn’t care. Today was a day he should have spent singing with Ru, going through his workout routine, and studying a copy of a Broadway show script he’d received from Katie. Someone wanted him to audition, although he hadn’t decided he would yet, but wasn’t opposed to exploring it. Since casting wouldn’t start until early next year, he had time. He hoped to act out a few scenes for Paige and see if she thought he could act at all. She wouldn’t lie to him. If he was shit, she’d say so. Then kiss him afterward to soften the blow, and he was okay with that.
Dr. Cathen pulled a folder out of his briefcase and flipped over some pages to familiar forms. All standardized testing for mental health. Tommy knew those forms by heart, he also knew the weaknesses of them, because the staff here could get around them when they asked questions. When any normal person was asked that basic set of questions, almost everyone would be labeled clinically depressed. It was how they were worded. Very vague and general. They were also easy to overcome by anyone who knew the system. Tommy understood them better now, and answered them honestly, scoring his depression fairly low, anxiety mid-range. His nurses would have asked follow up questions for each, grading him on more than generalities, and making notes for things that would have to be addressed.
The doctor tallied up the scores and Thomas Foster seemed triumphant. Like he’d won. But Dr. Brigham pulled out a long list of similar tests, showing how Tommy had been when he arrived. Insanely high scores on both the depression and anxiety scale. His current test was a blip on the radar against those beginning days.
“He’s been here months,” Tommy’s father said hotly.
“And improved substantially,” Dr. Brigham pointed out. “I have more than mental health generalized tests to prove that. I have copies of brain scans showing his original clinical depression, to his current ones which show vast improvement.” She pulled out the two scans printed on paper, side by side. From blotchy dark spots to lit up. Tommy hadn’t seen the results of the latest scan, but he felt it in his head. Like things were moving, even if sometimes they were stuttered. “And his physical health,” she added, pulling out lists of blood tests and health markers from cholesterol levels to his reduction in AFLD.
“The notes indicate he still has tremors and regular panic attacks,” Dr. Cathen pointed out.
“Which are completely normal after longtime benzo abuse,” Dr. Brigham pointed out.
“The literature doesn’t indicate long-term side effects from benzo use.”
“Bullshit,” Dr. Brigham snapped. “The drug comes with warnings indicating exactly the issues he’s experienced and there are thousands of lawsuits pending against drug manufacturers. There are online communities full of hundreds of thousands of individuals suffering long-term effects of these drugs even when used as prescribed. The fact that Mr. Foster has had the opportunity to receive advanced full body wellness care has sped up his recovery, from what normally takes years, to several months.” Dr. Brigham pulled out document after document, copies of lawsuits, forms highlighted to indicate the exact same issues he’d been experiencing.
“And what about his alcoholism? I see no treatment listed in here for that,” Dr. Cathen added. “No AA, no mentor, no twelve-step program planned for his release. Do you plan on ever releasing him?”
“AA has a one third recovery rate. That’s pretty low,” Dr. Brigham said. “Meanwhile, CBT and DBT, which Tommy has received training for, has a seventy-five percent recovery rate. He isn’t finished with either of those, but will be soon. If he decides he needs an AA group or mentor other than his therapist once he’s finished here, we will help him transition to that program. As for a release date, that’s up to Tommy. He’s free to leave at any time. He has never been a prisoner here. His recovery and wellness have always been up to him. He has chosen to get better, and so he is.”
Thomas Foster sputtered. “He’s not well.”
Tommy was a thousand times better than he had been, but no he wasn’t ready to leave yet. “I’m getting better.”
“By being here? Doing this New Age crap? Eating through your money when you could take a few medications and get back to life?” His father demanded.
“That wasn’t an option for Tommy,” Dr. Brigham corrected. “We don’t treat drug addiction with more drugs.”
“We treat drug addiction with medication all the time,” Dr. Cathen corrected.
“Do you hear yourself?” Dr. Brigham said. “Treat drugs with drugs…” She shook her head. “Medications can help sometimes, but in cases like Tommy’s it usually causes more damage.”
