Katie dropped her head down, the angle pulling at the wires attached to the pads on her forehead. She didn’t want Dr. Hawtin to see that she was crying again.
“Hey, Katie?” Dr. Hawtin said, bending down to Katie’s level. “Katie? What’s the matter?” Katie sniffled but didn’t answer, looking out at the samples of fabric, wood and plastic on the table in front of her. She let her tears well up again and the objects swam and blurred through the dark brown streaks of hair that fell over her face. “Come on, Katie. Just try to relax and we’ll give it one more go, ok?”
“No. You’re treating me like a child,” Katie sobbed, closing her eyes to make the objects go away.
Like all the staff, Dr. Hawtin didn’t look like a psychiatrist: with her slacks and jumper and her short, gelled peppered-grey hair, her casualness only made Katie more cynical. “Katie, I’m not treating you like a child. I don’t think you’re a child . . .”
“You think I’m crazy . . .” Katie interjected.
“Hey, remember the rule?”
“See, you’re doing it again! You’re treating me like a child!” Katie spluttered, wiping at the tears that had gathered on her chin.
“No, I’m not, but it’s important that we don’t use labels like “crazy” while we’re in here, ok? I don’t think you’re a child and I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re a healthy, normal 32-year-old woman who needs to work a few things out . . .”
“It’s got nothing to do with "working things out"! I can’t feel my fingers! I can’t hold anything, I can’t grip anything and it’s got nothing to do with my emotional state!” Katie cried, her voice becoming hysterical: she was never one for tantrums, but after a week in the clinic she was drowning in frustration.
Dr. Hawtin sat back, giving Katie a moment to cry. “You know,” she continued softly, “this test will show if there’s anything neurological amiss . . .”
“I’ve seen a neurologist. Several.”
“. . . and if there is anything we can start to target it that way.” Katie sighed again and sat up, rubbing the heels of her palms over her cheeks. “So, Katie, take some deep breaths and run your fingers over the textures again . . .”
-----------
“Katie? Are you alright? What happened?”
“It’s alright, honey. My hand just slipped.”
“You didn’t burn yourself, did you?”
“No, no, I’m fine. Watch you don’t step in it, I don’t want coffee on the carpet.”
“Are you sure you’re ok, darling? You've been dropping things a lot lately.”
“Honestly, I'm fine, I'm just a bit tired . . .”
“Is it the court case?”
“Daniel, I’m not worried about the court case. I believe in you and I’ve never trusted a word that horrible woman has said . . .”
“Good. That means a lot to me, because it really tears me up inside thinking of how much pain this must be causing you. Believe me, if there was any other way, baby . . .”
“Oh Daniel, come here . . . If there was any truth in her allegations I wouldn’t be here with you, would I? What? What . . . ?”
“It’s nothing, it’s just . . . you just stroked my cheek with the bottom of your hand and, well, you’ve never done that before.”
“Oh . . . I guess I never noticed . . .”
---------------
“Alright, we’ll call it a day for now,” Dr. Hawtin said, getting up to take the wires off Katie’s head. “You've got nothing on for the rest of the afternoon now. I know the woman from animal shelter is bringing some kittens down, maybe you could go have a play and a cuddle?”
“You’re doing it again!” Katie snapped.
“I’m doing what again, Katie?” Dr. Hawtin asked.
“You’re treating me like a kid again. “Oh, I know!”,” she mocked, “”let’s give her some cute, cuddly kittens to pet, she’ll soon forget about this silly lack of sensitivity in her fingers if she’s got some soft little kittens to touch . . .!””
Dr. Hawtin removed her glasses and leant against the table. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Ok, so you might not be a cat person, but you’ve got the option. Otherwise, there's all the normal things in the lounge or the gardens or you can just hang out in your room. It’s up to you.”
Katie sighed and slumped back down in her chair. “Fine . . .”
---------------
“Oh, Katie, don’t cry! Please don’t cry, baby! Just give it a chance, that’s all I’m saying.”
“You think I’m going crazy too, don’t you? You and all the doctors, you think it’s the stress, you think it’s the court case, you think it’s all in my head!”
“I don’t think it’s all in your head, honey, but what else can we do? No, don’t walk away. Listen to me. Katie, I’m worried about you. You won’t leave the house, you spend all day on Facebook typing with a pencil between your palms and pushing the mouse around with your arm. We’ve been to doctors, to physiotherapists, to neurologists, from this specialist to that and nobody knows what’s going on . . .”
“Just because they can’t work it out doesn’t mean it’s in my head! All this time, through all this, I believed in you, Daniel. Why won’t you believe me?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you - no, don’t look at me like that! - but you can’t keep going on like this. It’s just for four weeks, and it really is a lovely place, more like a resort, really . . .”
-------------------
Dr. Hawtin watched Katie leave, turning the door handle with some difficulty with her wrists. Returning to Katie’s file, she read through her notes but still nothing made sense. Grabbing her pen, she added, "Patient emotional and uncooperative. Scans inconclusive at first examination, diagnosis of psychosomatic response to stress still uncertain . . ."