A Wedding In December. Sarah Morgan

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      It felt enormous to be admitting that she wasn’t doing well. If she said it aloud to a professional, then that would make it real. There would be no more pretending these feelings might blow over.

      The occupational health doctor was brisk and to the point.

      “I read your medical record, so I know what happened to you.” She removed her glasses, her expression kind. “I’m wondering why it took you this long to come and talk to me.”

      “I didn’t feel I needed to.” Katie fidgeted. “I was doing fine. I haven’t missed a day of work—”

      “Why not?”

      “Excuse me?”

      Dr. Braithwaite glanced brief ly at the notes. “After what happened I would have expected you to have time off. And perhaps counseling. Have you considered talking to a psychologist?”

      “No.” Her heart rate increased. She clasped her hands in her lap, hoping that the woman across from her couldn’t see that she was sweating. “I don’t want to spend what little free time I have talking about something I’m trying to forget. I prefer to deal with it my own way.”

      The doctor nodded. “But you’re sitting in front of me now, which tells me that you’re not finding that as easy as you thought.”

      Katie felt tears burn her eyes and blinked. “I think about it all the time. Flashbacks.”

      “To the attack?”

      “Yes, but mostly to events leading up to it. I keep thinking what might have happened if I’d done something different. He—he said it was my fault—”

      “And you believe him?”

      “It was my fault. But we were so busy that night, I didn’t give him the time he needed. It’s about triage. Always about triage. What you don’t realize is that risk is not always obvious. Sorry.” She grabbed a tissue from the box on Dr. Braithwaite’s desk. “I’m not normally like this.”

      “How are you normally?”

      “A coper.” She smiled through her tears. “I’m a coper. Never a day off sick. And a perfectionist. Never an exam I couldn’t pass, or a problem I couldn’t handle. You name it, I aced it.”

      Dr. Braithwaite nodded. “Do you see perfectionism as a good thing?”

      “It is in medicine. In medicine you’re expected to get it right every time.”

      “But how could you? Humans are flawed, are they not? Errors are inevitable, and of course we should do our best to avoid them when lives are at stake but there is a difference between setting high personal standards and perfectionism. One makes you strive to do the best you can and the other, being unobtainable, makes you self-critical and unhappy. It also makes people afraid to reveal anything that could be perceived as weakness and prevents a person taking risks because failure is not seen as an option.”

      Katie blew her nose. “Your advice is to go out there and fail?”

      “I think you should consider the possibility that you can make a mistake and still be a good doctor.” Dr. Braithwaite pushed the box of tissues closer to her. “Admitting that you need help isn’t a weakness.”

      “I’ve wanted to be a doctor since I was a child. Every exam I worked for has been leading me here. I have slogged and sacrificed, and now I’m questioning the whole thing.”

      “Because you believe you made a mistake?”

      “Not only that. I think—” she swallowed “—I think maybe I don’t want to do this anymore.”

      “And that scares you?”

      “Of course.” Because if she wasn’t a doctor, who was she? Katie stared at the paperweight on the doctor’s desk. “I’ve never felt like this before. I’m worried that I’m going to unravel and it’s not going to be pretty.”

      “And what would happen if you did ‘unravel’? Why would that matter?”

      “Because people rely on me.” She thought about her mother, and all the worry she’d had with Rosie. She’d be appalled if she knew how bad her elder daughter was feeling. “I don’t want anyone to worry about me. I’ve got this. I need—” She slumped in her chair. “I don’t know what I need. I don’t suppose you have a magic potion?”

      Dr. Braithwaite was thoughtful. “You didn’t take a single day off after what happened?”

      “I took a couple of hours while I was being stitched up, and I’ve had a couple of physio appointments since then which don’t seem to make a difference. I had to talk to the police of course, but other than that, no.” Katie shook her head. “I’m better keeping busy.”

      “Maybe not.” Dr. Braithwaite reached for a notepad. “Are you working over Christmas?”

      “No, I’m off from tomorrow and back to work on New Year’s Eve.”

      “You won’t be working New Year’s Eve. I’m signing you off until the middle of January. That gives you a month.”

      Katie sat up with a gasp. “You—a month? I can’t be away from work for a month. Even taking an hour out for this appointment has created extra work for my colleagues. We’re already stretched to the breaking point in the department, and winter is coming, and—”

      “Dr. White—Katie—” Her voice gentled. “Have you heard the phrase physician, heal thyself?”

      “Yes, but there’s nothing wrong with me. My shoulder has healed perfectly well and so has my head.” Apart from the constant throbbing, and the nightmares.

      “Those aren’t the injuries that concern me.” The doctor scribbled something. “I’d like you to talk to one of my colleagues. A psychologist who specializes in dealing with traumatic events. She’s very good at what she does.”

      “I don’t want to spend my time talking about something I want to forget.”

      “That’s your decision, but I’m giving you her number anyway and I suggest you call her.” Dr. Braithwaite tore the paper from the pad and handed it over. Then she tapped some keys on the computer and printed out a prescription. “I’m giving you a short course of antidepressants. I think they may help you handle this acute phase. Come back to me in the middle of January and we’ll talk again.”

      Katie took the prescription, even though she knew it was going straight into a drawer. She didn’t know what she needed, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t antidepressants. “Thanks.”

      Dr. Braithwaite put her pen down. “Are you going away over Christmas? In my opinion you need a complete break, away from London. Time to recharge.”

      “As it happens I’m going to Colorado. I need to—” She almost said stop my sister getting married, and then realized how that would sound to someone who didn’t know her. It СКАЧАТЬ