The doctor came in a few minutes later. She introduced herself as Dr. Patel, shook both our hands, and settled into the rolling chair with a tablet balanced on her knee.
“So, Soren,” she said, pulling up my chart. “How are you feeling today?”
I opened my mouth to sayfine, then caught Rook's eye and reconsidered. “Tired. A little shaky. Embarrassed, mostly.”
“Embarrassment is normal after what you've been through. Let's talk about the physical side first, and then we can address some of the other pieces.” She tapped through a few screens. “You were treated for an intentional overdose of sedatives combined with alcohol. Your liver function looks good, which is encouraging. How's your appetite been since discharge?”
“Not great. I've been eating, but I have to kind of force it.”
“That's common. Your body's still recovering from the toxicity. Are you experiencing any nausea, dizziness, or headaches?”
“Headaches, yeah. And I feel kind of foggy. Like I'm moving through water.”
She made a note. “That should improve over the next week or so. If it doesn't, we'll want to run some additional tests. How about sleep?”
I hesitated, and Rook shifted in his chair. “He's been having nightmares,” Rook said quietly. “Wakes up a couple times a night.”
Dr. Patel looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. “Yeah. Bad dreams. But I've been sleeping more than I was before, so that's probably an improvement.”
“Are you taking anything to help with sleep?”
“No. Just—” I gestured vaguely. “Trying to tough it out, I guess.”
“We can discuss sleep aids if it becomes a bigger issue, but for now I'd recommend keeping a consistent bedtime routine and avoiding screens before bed. Speaking of which—” She looked up from the tablet. “Have you had any alcohol since your discharge?”
“No.”
“Any desire to drink?”
I wanted to lie. But Rook was sitting right there, and Dr. Patel was looking at me with an expression that said she'd heard every lie in the book, so I went with the truth.
“Yeah. I've thought about it. But I haven't done it for a while.”
“That's good. That's honest, and it's good.” She made another note. “I'm going to recommend continuing to abstain for at least the next month while your body finishes metabolizing the medication. After that, we can reassess, but I'd strongly encourage you to consider whether alcohol is serving you in a healthy way.”
“It's not,” I said flatly. “I know it's not.”
“Then we'll work on building other coping mechanisms. Are you seeing a therapist regularly?”
“Yeah. Dr. Lin. I've got an appointment this afternoon, actually.”
“Excellent. And are you on any psychiatric medications currently?”
“Not yet. Dr. Lin and I have been talking about it, but I haven't started anything.”
Dr. Patel nodded. “That's something you'll want to discuss with her today. Depression and suicidal ideation often respond well to medication in combination with therapy.” She paused, then asked the question I'd been dreading. “Do you feel safe right now? Are you having thoughts of harming yourself again?”
The room went very quiet. I could hear Rook breathing in the corner, could feel the weight of his attention even though I wasn't looking at him.
“I'm not planning anything,” I said carefully. “But yeah, the thoughts are still there. They're just—quieter than they were.”
“What makes them quieter?”
I glanced at Rook, then away. “Having people around. Knowing I'd hurt them if I did it again. Not wanting to be that selfish.”
“That's not selfish,” Dr. Patel said gently. “Suicidal ideation is a symptom of illness, not a character flaw. But I'm glad you have people in your life who make you want to stay. Who's your primary support person right now?”
“Him,” I said, nodding toward Rook. “And my siblings. My bandmates. Dr. Lin.”
