Two for one – pt 2

“Now we’ve established the dream, let’s talk about the reality. Tell me about that.”

“Hmmm.” Lois said under her breath, now clearly irritated.

She knew therapy was going to be like this. She made the decision to give it a try and she would see it through to the end. She reached into her bag to get another stick but the pack was empty. She was out.

            “Is there a problem, Lois?” Dr. Tim asked.

“You’ve been ruffling your bag for about a minute now. Do you need something?”

            “…Just a stick and unless you can magically provide one for me, I’m afraid I won’t be able to continue,” she replied.

The session was running out and she was well aware. She couldn’t just speak about it without nicotine rush to numb her down. She picked up the habit shortly after her baby died and she had not been able to put it down ever since. Her consumption only grew. 

            Dr. Tim got up from his black leather chair without a word. Lois watched as he circled passed the table with a Dr. T.M. Bola plaque on it, towards a cupboard backed by an airtight window draped with royal blue. He drew out the first rack, reached inside and brought out something she couldn’t make out from where she sat. He approached her and stretched it forward.

            “I hope you like it. A friend got it from the Dominican Republic. I hear they make the best cigars.”

            “You smoke?”

It was like thunder fell from the sky in the manner that Lois asked the question. She didn’t mean to blurt out like that but she was truly surprised.

            “I’ve been a shrink for 25 years. Surely you would think I need some damping of my own,” Dr. Tim answered, with a benign smile revealing his overlapping incisors.

Lois could not help but laugh. Surely she needed it, she was about to spell out tragedy.

“Shall we begin?”

“Yes we shall.” Lois replied, simultaneously clouding the air.

**

“Growing up it was just my mother and I. My father died when I was just a baby and my mum never remarried.”

“She never said why. I didn’t ask anyway, but if I’m to guess I’d say it was for my sake.”

“It’s a familiar case. I recognize it all too well,” Dr. Tim said.

“Carry on.”

“I always craved a family of my own. It was a honest desire from when I was a girl so when I met Ebilade and we started courting, I thought God answered my prayers.”

“And Ebilade is your husband, if I got that clearly earlier…”

“My late husband yes,” Lois answered.

Dr. Tim scribbled on his note as silence came marching into his oval office like an infantry.

“Ebilade gave me everything. He loved me…”

“…He loved me,” Lois repeated.   

She was struggling to find words.

            Dr. Tim didn’t say anything. He didn’t usher her to continue. He quietly waited, penning down a few words as the cigar made frequent rounds to her lips.

            “Ebilade was a man after my heart. We met in the university and were together for four years after, and then he proposed. Life was good, all too good.”

“He proposed in March, and by the end of the year we were married. That was the beginning of everything.”

“He changed?” Dr. Tim asked.

“No, not that. Well, things did change, only for the better.”

“He got a good job, a better paying job. A while after, when I was about seven months pregnant, my perfect reality came crashing…”

She bowed and shook her head slowly.

“Go on.” Dr. Tim opined, taking a glance at his watch.

Time was running out, and his number one rule was to never give a minute more, no matter the depth of the session.

            “…I was feeling heavy that morning so Ebilade made breakfast – bread and eggs, I can never forget how nice the egg smelled.”

            “He was in a hurry to leave for work and I remember he said he’d be back in time to make me vegetable soup for dinner.”

Lois let out a mild laugh, consoling the sinister thoughts mauling her.

            “He didn’t make it to work and he never made it back home…”

            “According to eye witnesses, a car on the other side of the road lost its brakes, diverted to his side and collided head-on with his. He was rushed to the hospital, but it was too late. He already lost too much blood.”

“He died.”

            “And the worst part is, I felt so useless,” Lois said, with a harsh tone justified by the rage she felt inside.

That was why she was in therapy – the anger she felt. She needed to voice out to let it all go. She was angry with God for taking the love of her life away, angry with herself for not delaying him even a minute more and angry with him for leaving her alone in this world. All the plans they had, everything he promised her, all gone.

            “Delaying him for one minute would have kept him alive,” she added. “I believe this with all my heart.”

            “What about your baby?” Dr. Tim asked.

“You mentioned you were seven months pregnant when he died.”

            “Yes.”

            “After Ebilade’s death, I suffered a lot. I wasn’t eating, I cried every moment of every day.”

            “I neglected my baby. And that went on for more than a month. In fact up till I was due.”

            “Everything was worse on that day. I didn’t have my husband…”

She couldn’t finish the statement. She needed another stick.

Lois reached for the table where she kept the pack of cigars, brought out a stick and lit it. She took a few puffs and sighed in relief.

            “Stillbirth… I lost my baby.”

             “I didn’t need the doctors to tell me what happened to my baby girl.”

            “I know what happened. I killed her…”

**

            “That’s my story. That’s how I lost my husband and my baby.”

            “Sometimes I wish I could give my life for them… two for one.”

“There’s clearly a link between the dreams and reality,” Dr. Tim said.

“Well Doc, I actually know why I’ve been having those dreams. I didn’t come here for answers. I’m here to hear myself talk about everything.”

“I couldn’t do that alone. Thank you for your time.”

“Its my job, Lois.” Dr. Tim said.

She stood up, signaling it was time to leave.

            “Wait, I have something for you.” Dr. Tim said, as she reached for her bag.

He got up from his chair and walked towards the mountainous wooden bookshelf rested on the emulsion painted wall, ran his fingers over a few books, meticulously looking for a particular one.

            “Aha. Here you are.”

He turned and slowly walked towards her with a half smile on his face.

            “Take this. It’s a wonderful book, a personal favorite.”

            “I hope to see you some other time.” Dr. Tim said.

            “I doubt you will Doc…”

As she motioned to leave, she turned the book to see the cover page.

            The body keeps the score…brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma…Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD, …

“Touché….”