Mac drove over to the doctor's office. He had an appointment this morning. He would have to go through some tests to see if he was making any progress. He was not sure if he was. Even when he found out the name of something, it slipped him again most of the time. He could not remember how many times he had forgotten what a…he sighed as he parked. He still could not remember the name of that thing that he made calls on sometimes. That was what he was worried about most. Even when he realized the name or when someone said it, he often forgot it again.
Mac got out and went into Dr. Martin Stilga's office. He signed his name to the register and then sat down in the waiting room. There were four other people in there. One of them had a cast on his leg and one woman had a neck brace on as well as a bandage around her head and a cast on her arm. Dr. Stilga was a trauma doctor so he had plenty of trauma patients.
Mac thought he probably did not look like a trauma patient. Although the scar from being shot was not visible, it was definitely not the only scar he carried. He carried mental scars that could not be healed by medicine and that could cost him his job.
The nurse soon called Mac and he went into the hallway where the exam rooms were. The nurse checked his blood pressure and everything and then showed him to a room. He sat down on the bed and the nurse asked him if he was having any problems. Mac frowned. "I'm still forgetting things," he said. "Even when I figure out what it is, I forget it again."
The nurse typed that into the computer while Mac watched. She left and Mac sat there waiting for the doctor. He looked at his…well, he had to put it on silent while he was in the doctor's office. He looked at the sign on the door: Please Turn Cell Phones off During Your Appointment. Mac nodded. Cell phone…that was it. He put it on silent. He was amazed that he knew how to do everything but he could not remember the names of stuff. He thought about what he wanted to say to his team. He had to let them know. He knew they must be wondering about what was going on and they deserved an explanation. Christine was right…they would never lose their respect for him and they would help him. It still made him feel embarrassed to think about telling them. He had no choice. If he did not tell them, it was going to wind up a whisper in the lab and the precinct and the whisper would get to the chief and the commissioner and he would be brought before them to see if he was capable of running the lab. Every case he had worked on since being wounded would be questioned if he had worked on the evidence. That was why he had not written any reports or gone to court.
Dr. Stilga soon came in and Mac told him all his problems. They went through some tests and Mac frowned at the results as he could not remember things, even things that he had remembered before. He looked at the doctor. "When is it going to get better?" he asked.
The doctor studied Mac's test results and then looked at him. "You can't expect something like this to get better overnight," he said.
"It's not overnight," Mac declared. "It's been months."
"But it takes times to overcome something like this and I told you that it could be permanent. There is no guarantee that you will stop forgetting things, but doing the exercises can help."
"I've been doing them."
"Do you have anyone helping you yet?"
"I told Christine about it. She will help me."
"What about your team? I'm surprised that you could hide this as long as you have."
"Well, I'm good at hiding my feelings. I've always done it."
"Practice makes perfect, I guess."
"I guess, and I've spent a lot of time practicing."
"I hope you're about to change that."
Mac considered that. He still had hang-ups about telling things about himself but he thought it was time to change that. He had to get himself out of the frame of mind that it was weakness when he had a problem. He had to let his friends know about it so they could help him because they cared about him and they would not see him weak but they would know why he had the problem. "I am going to change it," he said. "I have to."
"That will help," Dr. Stilga replied. "You need help from people who care about you. You will improve with help but alone, you're going to be at a standstill."
Mac knew he was right. "I know that already."
When Mac's appointment was over, he went out to his Avalanche and headed out. He had to get his prescriptions refilled today. He had already called them in. He was still taking medicines. He frowned and wondered if he would always be taking medicines. He had seen people who were taking a whole bag full of medicines and he did not want that. Not to mention all the side effects that could happen.
Mac arrived at the pharmacy and walked up to the door. He looked in at the door. He could not help but remember the day he was shot. He remembered walking into that pharmacy and…he thought of it every time he came to the pharmacy, but he usually sent a messenger to get his prescriptions for him so he would not have to go. He even sent Adam once. He pretended that he did not have time to go himself.
Mac pushed the door open and heard the bell chime. He tried not to let his mind wander from the present but it was hard. He went on in and stopped as the door closed behind him. He blew out a breath and walked slowly around the first aisle of medical supplies and then he heard the door chime again. He whirled around to see an old man coming in. "Excuse me," the man said and went around Mac.
Mac shook his head at himself and went on down the aisle. As he walked closer to the pharmacy counter, he had more apprehension. He did not like feeling this way but he could not help it. This was not even the same pharmacy that he had been shot in but did they not all look almost the same? He finally made it over to the counter and waited while the other man got his prescriptions.
Mac stood and remembered walking into that pharmacy and realizing that someone was robbing it. He had his weapon with him because he had just come from the precinct and was there to get medicine for a man who was in interrogation. The man who was robbing the pharmacy did not see him at first. He had taken his weapon out and yelled for the man to freeze. Of course, he did not freeze. He had fired at him so he fired back and killed the guy. Then he had started toward the pharmacist wondering if there was someone else back there, but then a girl had run in the door. She had looked so innocent that he…
"May I help you?" the pharmacist was asking.
Mac looked up at the pharmacist who was staring at him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm here to pick up some prescriptions. Mac Taylor."
The pharmacist typed in his computer and asked for Mac's birth date. Mac told him and waited for the prescriptions. He paid for them and then walked out of the pharmacy. He hated going in there but he could not let fear take control of him. He had to live his life and he could not do it if he was afraid of everything.
Mac had one more place that he wanted to go to. He had to get his watch repaired and he was going to pick it up today. He drove to the jewelry store and walked inside. While he was waiting for them to bring his watch, he looked into the case of engagement rings and wedding rings. He remembered the day he proposed to Claire, but he also thought of Christine. He was sure she was the one he wanted. He felt like he was in the right place when he was with her even when he was at her restaurant. They had just had a falling out and she would not answer the phone when he called for days. He supposed he deserved that, and she had deserved for him to come to her in person. He did not even know what size ring she wore. He would have to either sneak around and find out, or he would have to just involve her in picking the ring. He would rather surprise her but he did not know how to do that at the moment.
When he had his watch, he left the jewelry store. That was his last errand. He sat there wondering what he could do for the rest of the day. He supposed he should just go home and get some sleep. He did not have to talk to his team today. He was not working, and he could talk to them tomorrow. He cranked the Avalanche and went home. He supposed it had been a few days since he cleaned the apartment. He hardly ever ate at home anyway. He had no dirty dishes but he changed his bed linens and got his dirty laundry and went down to the laundry room. The apartment building he lived in had a big laundry room. He put his stuff in one of the washing machines and turned it on. He sat down in one of the chairs to wait. He watched the clothes turn in the washer and thought back to what he was thinking about in the pharmacy. He remembered that girl's face when she ran in that door of the pharmacy. He had thought she just came in as a customer or something. He should have known better when she ran in that door when shots had been fired. He could not remember feeling the bullet go in. He remembered hitting the floor and was shocked, wondering what had happened. He had not been able to remember that before but he could now. He thought that was odd that he could remember more about that but he could not remember colors and simple things.
Mac leaned his head back against the wall while he waited for the clothes to wash. He thought about that headline in the paper again: What are you thankful for. He was thankful that he did not die that day in that pharmacy. He knew he could have. He had a second chance. He was thankful for his job too although it caused him a lot of stress at times and he was thankful for his team. It had been a while since he told them how much they meant to him. He would definitely have to talk to them tomorrow and…he thought they would all have a special dinner together for Thanksgiving this year. Of course, that would not be on the day of Thanksgiving but before that day came. He had never had anything like that at the lab. It was about time that changed too. They had to be serious and strict at the lab, but it did not have to seem like a sad, dull graveyard. He would see how he could liven things up at that lab.