Running on Insulin

Chapter 18

"Wow," I said to the doctor, who now held the tissues out to me. I wiped my face and blew my nose. "Do the police know all of that? How is he not in prison for killing his wife?"

"I have no idea. I'm going to have to look into what we can do about that. But of course, my main concern is Samantha. She's very troubled. My initial diagnosis would be Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, along with anxiety and depression brought on with how her father treated her and her mother while she was growing up.

I'm not going to prescribe anything yet. Next week I'm going to do a bunch of testing on her. DSM-IV and maybe an MMPI. I don't like to medicate children until I'm certain of their diagnosis.

How has she been with you?"

"Scared. Afraid to dose her insulin properly, nightmares. Although we've spent two nights in the hospital with her already."

"That first night when she fled her father's home, and the other night when she dosed improperly and had the diabetic ketoacidosis?"

"If that's what it's called, yeah. Her blood sugar was high and she was throwing up and confused."

"Well, in just a couple of days you've managed to make her feel safe. At least safe enough that she was very open and candid here. Though I would like to see if next week she'll let you stay in the waiting room."

"Me too. Despite the fact that it's the best for her, listening to that was hard," I said.

"I bet. Now, while what she told me is confidential, the murder of her mother obviously changes that a bit. I'm going to contact the social worker and doctor who referred her. I don't know if they even know that story. And the police need to know that. But Samantha will have to tell them. So we're going to have to prepare her for that possibility.

Don't say anything to her yet.  I want to find out our best course of action."

"Okay."

"Talk to my receptionist to set up an appointment for next week. What are you going to do about school for her? Take her back to her usual school or somewhere near you?"

"I don't even know what school she goes to. With everything that's happened, it totally slipped my mind that she's supposed to be in school. We'll talk to her and see what she wants. I think she feels so much is out of her control right now, maybe giving her that choice will make her feel a bit more stable and in control?"

"I take it you've been through therapy?" The doctor smiled.

"I still go. Not as frequently as I used to, but yes. I have,"

"I can tell. You picked up on all of that. Yes. I think giving Samantha the choice is a good idea. Just remember, if you do return her to her usual school, which I suspect isn't your neighborhood school, though if she ran to your house, probably isn't that far, reassure her you'll pick her up at dismissal and make sure to be there when the bell rings. She needs to know that she can build trust with you."

"Okay. Thanks, doc," I said.

I opened the door and went into the waiting room. Samantha was talking with Jenna, who had come in to wait for us. Jenna was showing her something on her phone.

"Hello you two," I said, smiling. Samantha looked up.

"Am I in trouble?" She asked.

"Why would you be in trouble?" I asked.

"I told the story I was never supposed to tell," she said. "My dad said if I ever told, I'd be in trouble and that I'd go to jail too."

Man did he have such a tight grip on her psyche. I knelt down in front of Samantha, put my hand on her shoulder, and looked her in the eyes.

"Samantha, you were incredibly brave to tell the doctor everything you did. He is very impressed and I am really, really proud of you and of how brave you were to tell Doc everything you did. 

You aren't in any trouble at all. And none of what happened is your fault. Not what happened to you and not what happened to your mom. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Come here," I said, pulling her into a hug. "You're one amazing kid. Did you know that?" I asked looking down at her.

"No, I'm not," she said.

"Yes, you are. You might not think it, but you are. Now, we should do something special because of how brave you were with Doc.  What do you think? Anything special you'd like to do? Anything you need or want?"

"No. I'm okay."

"You know, Tyler, since we need to discuss school with Samantha, maybe we should get her a phone so when she's at school she can call us if she needs to."

"That, my beautiful wife, is a fantastic idea. And a fantastic way to celebrate incredible bravery," I said.

"I don't need a phone," Samantha said.

"How will you get in touch with us if you need to?"

"Kiddo, you're not going to win this one. We're getting you a phone. We want to make sure we can keep in touch with you. What if you have a problem at school?  If you get sick or your blood sugar doesn't behave and you need help? I'd feel better knowing you can call or text us."

Samantha shrugged.

"Okay, I guess," she said.

I smiled at her, put my arm around her shoulders and the three of us left the office and drove to the mall.

I could see Samantha was nervous in the mall. Her eyes were darting everywhere.

"Hey," I whispered in her ear, pulling her close to me. "He's in prison. He's not coming to the mall. You're okay. You're safe."

She relaxed a little bit but stayed close. I could tell she was looking for a way out if she needed to bolt. How often had she needed an escape route?

We went to the Apple store and bought Samantha a phone. She chose the color and a case and we went home. She visibly relaxed when we got home.  Her body just - unwound.

"What do you two want to do for dinner?" Jenna asked.

"Whatever you guys want," Samantha said.

"I'm not picky," I said. "Samantha, are you in the mood for anything specific?"

She shook her head.

"Whatever you guys want," she said.

"Hey, Jenna, do we have any tripe?  Let's have a tripe and liver casserole."

Jenna looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Samantha looked a little green.

"Uh, we're fresh out of tripe and liver. Samantha, any ideas that aren't... that?" Jenna asked, picking up that I was trying to get her to offer suggestions.

"Spaghetti?" She asked. She picked the easiest thing she could think of, I think. 

"Spaghetti sounds fantastic!" Jenna said. "Great idea. With or without meat?  I think we have some ground beef. I could make a meat sauce.  What do you say, Samantha?"

"A meat sauce sounds good," she smiled. She'd made a suggestion, it had been accepted and another option was offered that her input was listened to. I think she felt good about being included in the decision-making process.

"Alright. It's four o'clock now. Let's eat at six. You two do whatever you want. I'm going to make a Caesar salad. Do you guys want garlic bread?" Jenna asked.

"Really?" Samantha asked.

"Sure. You want some?" Jenna asked.

"Okay," she said.

"Let's go set up your phone," I said to Samantha. We went into the living room and sat on the couch. I noticed that Samantha sat back and reclined. In more or less the same position as me. I wasn't sure if she was copying me or actually relaxed, but she was comfortable either way. I'd keep an eye on it, though.