Author's Note: Yes, another lengthy author's note, sorry. I've been blessed with multiple, extensive reviews on this story, which is terrific, appreciated and helpful. Believe me, I get that Arizona may not be going the 'traditional' route of therapy. As one reviewer mentioned, therapists take all sorts of avenues to reach their patients. In my mind Ben has to bring the 'mountain to Mohammed', so to speak. Arizona is a brilliant surgeon, married to a brilliant surgeon, and owns a hospital with a group of brilliant surgeons, and yet, even with the brilliance, they all failed to see or anticipate PTSD? So, yes, I hit her over the head with it by way of Ben.
This was done for a few reasons. First, September's coming. This story's useful life will cease once Season 10 starts, and Shonda Rhimes starts playing with our heads again. Second, realistically as one reader pointed out, Arizona, in all likelihood, will need years of therapy. Unfortunately, there is no quick fix for PTSD and the other psychological conditions that accompany it, (a person with PTSD often suffers from other challenges as well, such as depression). I would lose you all as readers if I followed along the snail's pace that therapy could possibly take for her. Let's face it; Arizona has had a lot of trauma in her short life. Third, the goal I'm striving for, is rather than present the issues piecemeal, I personally found them easier to grasp if I viewed them collectively; so the whole picture was presented at one time. Only a trained professional could explain it that way.
The bottom line is that this story is fiction, the characters make-believe and I have taken a bit of literary license in presenting it. PTSD is very real and I have tried to present it as realistically and accurately as I could (remember, I'm not a trained professional). At times, trauma victims do choose methods of numbing like adultery. I do not condone infidelity; however, after writing this, I am much more compassionate with people who struggle with that in their lives. It's not a black and white issue; it's 'grey' (sorry, couldn't resist). Essentially, I like the show and Callie & Arizona. I don't want to be upset with either character, or the show. So, understanding how this might have happened will go a long way for me in moving beyond the transgressions to just enjoying the roller coaster of drama that Greys will surely be giving us come September. Thank you to all who continue to read, follow and share your comments.
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Chapter 10
Arizona returns home, attempting to reconcile the conflicting thoughts the session at Grey-Sloan presented. Yes, she was angry, often. It was unplanned, unintentional, she didn't mean to lambaste Callie or shun her. Yes, she lashed out at Callie. Deep down she knew there were no other medical options but for Callie to cut-off her leg. Correction, for Callie to allow her leg to be cut-off. Was Ben right? Had she been in denial this whole time? Had she put Callie on a pedestal, expecting her to perform a miracle?
It just happened; actually, the anger still is happening.
'Why if Callie could fix everything, she fixed Derek afterall, couldn't she figure that out for me? I needed her to do that for me; fix me, and make me whole again,' she thought, still not recognizing the flaws in her logic. 'Callie always made me feel better', but not this time.
"It wasn't suppose to be like this," she lamented aloud to herself. "There's no going back. I've lost my leg and Callie has left," she reasoned. "I'm not losing Sofia too." Resolving to let Callie know she was ready to see her daughter, she sat down to write.
Dear Callie,
I've done what you've requested of me. I am seeing a counselor. His name is Dr. Alexander. He specializes in trauma counseling. I've seen him six times now, with no end in sight because I realize how important this step truly is. I want to be with Sofia please; I'm ready. I'm really ready. Dr. Alexander thinks so, too. His card is in the envelope. He suggested you call him. The waivers have been signed, so he can speak with you about me. There are no more secrets; I want no more secrets, please.
I would like to take Sofia next weekend. I miss her and you too. I miss you both. We need to discuss the details of meeting. Call me, please.
I'm so sorry Callie. It was a mistake. Please believe me.
Arizona
Planning to mail her note first thing in the morning, she prays Callie would respond sooner than later. While the process of dismantling her repugnant emotions is understandably unsettling, there is some relief in facing the monster within her. Expelling the despicable parasite is challenging and she is set to persevere. She has lost so much; giving up would mean conceding there is nothing left to live for and if she didn't allow herself to die in the woods, she couldn't do that now. She needed to get well, if not for herself, then for her daughter.
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Xxxxxx
Anxiously awaiting the anticipated phone call from Callie, Arizona's Monday appointment could not come fast enough. More than aware of her internal, ongoing agitation, she knows facing this beast within gives her the ability to manage it better and truly heal.
"Hi Ben," she greets her therapist as she enters his office.
"Arizona. You look pretty chipper today," he answers, surprised by her positivity.
She shrugs, "I'm trying. I sent Callie a note, and I hope she calls."
Raising his eyebrows, giving a 'we will see' look, Ben continues, "We covered a lot of territory on Friday. Let's go over some of that. Stating the obvious, you two seem to struggle with communication. Or maybe since the crash you lost that ability?"
"No, it's always been an issue. We avoid our issues with limited conversation and a lot of makeup sex," Arizona embarrassingly explains.
"Can you elaborate a bit further, maybe an example or two?" Ben inquires. Arizona looks at him in shock.
Realizing her misinterpretation, Ben informs her, "I mean the issues that were hard to talk about. I don't want details about your sex life," he quickly clarifies. "However, at some point we'll need to talk about physical intimacy."
A forced laugh leaves Arizona's mouth: "Children. Mark. Africa."
"Well, how about exotic lands for $300?" Ben suggests.
"Okay," her eyes fix on him intently. "I won the Carter Madison grant to work in Malawi. I applied before I even met Callie, but I never really thought I would win, so I never told her about it. I always had this big dream of saving tiny humans, changing healthcare and having unlimited money to do it; particularly in a Third World country. The Carter Madison grant was my dream come true, but it meant working in Africa for three years."
"And…" Ben prods. "Breathe Arizona...just breathe," Ben interjects.
Closing her eyes, Arizona breathes deeply, calming herself before continuing, "At first we fought about me accepting the grant and Callie was quite angry with me, thinking I wasn't happy. But later, she decided to go with me. I remember how happy I was that I didn't have to choose between Africa and Callie; we'd be doing this together. So, we quit our jobs, putting our stuff in storage and we sublet the apartment. Callie was...she didn't even say she was proud of me. She was whiny and passive-aggressive, not just with me, with everyone; she was struggling with her decision but..."
"In the airport, Callie was going on and on...convincing herself what a great opportunity this was medically. I finally snapped and told her I didn't want to go to Africa with her; that she was ruining my dream. She tried to reason with me, but I shut her down. I dumped Callie in the airport before we even got on the plane. She was willing to give up her dream for mine, but we didn't process or talk about how that impacted her; I didn't want to address it, neither of us did. I lost patience with her. Finally, she suggests we talk on the plane, I didn't think it would matter. It seemed like a moot point. I told her to stay and be happy and that I'd go to Africa and be happy. I broke up with her before we even boarded."
Arizona continues, "Callie stayed and I left. I didn't call or contact her, figuring that severing all ties would be best. But, I wasn't happy and cried constantly; it took every ounce of strength I had to get through each day. So, when asked if I wanted to return to Seattle, I said yes, after only a few months. I didn't understand how much I loved her until she wasn't there. Callie replaced Africa as my dream."
Ben nods,"It's clear you skipped over some crucial conversations for such a life changing move."
"We did. Callie knew I didn't believe in long distance relationships, so we didn't talk, what was the point? The answer was either go to Africa or break-up. She volunteered to go; I knew she wasn't thrilled about it. Walking away from the grant would have been professional suicide," Arizona explains.
"But, you walked away from a prestigious grant anyway?" Ben quizzes.
Arizona nods in agreement, "I did; but I set things up and running in Africa, promising to supervise from Seattle. The children still benefited. If I didn't take the grant, the money would have gone to another initiative. Eventually, I got my job and Callie back but…," she stops mid-sentence.
Ben sees that Arizona has finished her answer on the subject, "So Children for $100 or Mark for $200? Something tells me this is all connected, so take your pick."
Arizona averts her eyes from Ben, and looking out the window, answers: "It is." She explains what she returned to when she deplaned from Africa
"It was messy because having children was a sore spot for us even before Africa. Just before the hospital shooting, we broke off our relationship over the issue of children; I never wanted them and they were her dream. During the lockdown, we were both in Peds, arguing of all things while the gunman was running rampant. I basically told Callie that I didn't trust her enough to warrant changing my views. And then..., she stood in front of a loaded gun to protect me and a little girl. She just...I was terrified and she walked over to him, gave the gunman bandages to cover his wound and told him to leave - and he did! She then calmed me and the patient down. She was so strong..." Arizona smiles, remembering Callie's 'super magic smile' speech to Ruby.
"Afterwards, she told me that she didn't want to have kids if it meant she couldn't be with me. And then, I promised her that we would have kids...10 kids. Shortly after, I got the news about the grant. We had just moved in together. But this was my DREAM...you don't turn down a Carter Madison grant!" Arizona shouts, her anger raising its head.
Arizona continues to explain what she returned to: a pregnant Callie. The father was, of all people, the person she considered her nemesis.
"Wow, that's a lot," Ben concludes after hearing all that transpired.
"Yah think?" she flippantly replies. Regretting her brassiness, she says apologetically, "I'm sorry. I've made us run over again."
"You did. But uncloaking dark emotions is complicated and time consuming. So, before we call it a night, what about your homework?" Ben questions.
"I did confirm with the daycare; Sofia's spot is still there; unsurprisingly, since it's still paid for. I have our list of babysitters," Arizona shares.
"You and I both know that's not exactly what I wanted. It's good, but, come on Arizona," Ben challenges.
"Fine," Arizona says, huffing in frustration. Finding someone to make sure she held it together was degrading and the list was short. Cristina clearly was not an option, even Callie would agree. "I will speak with Miranda Bailey about being my go-to person."
"There needs to be some give and take here, Arizona. When you have an actual back and forth conversation with productive dialogue that has a beginning, middle and end, Callie's confidence may return. But in the interim, being sensitive of her perspective and anticipating her worries are a good start," he suggests.
"Alright, I get it," she disconcertingly answers, walking towards the door.
"Have a good evening, Arizona," Ben says.
Having crossed the threshold of the office door, Arizona steps back in. "Hey, no Yodaisms tonight?" she questions, suddenly feeling insecure with the absence of the routine exit quote. Seemingly innocuous, the quotations give her something to contemplate during the drive back to her apartment. Who knew her life would have so many parallels to a science fiction movie?
"Hmm," Ben ponders, "Already know you that which you need."
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Xxxxxx
Arriving Wednesday for her 5pm appointment, "Any word?" Arizona anxiously asks.
"Not yet," Ben answers. "We can't focus on that; you still have lots to talk about. We discussed the 'hows' and 'whys' of your trauma, but you need to take the information and process more specifically your evolution and true feelings. What I explained isn't worthwhile if you can't see how it pertains to your life. You need to identify the missteps, and be aware of the triggers to prevent repeating the unwanted reactions."
Arizona feels like a 'Let's Make A Deal' contestant, with Ben as Monty Hall, asking her which door to open: 'Arizona, would you like to see what is behind Door #1, Door # 2 or Door #3?'
She squirms, imagining which 'deal' she will face today.
Contestant Arizona: 'Monty, let's see what's behind Door #3.'
Monty Hall: 'With Door #3, you have won a priceless hour of reflection on sibling death, where your can share how painful it was to learn of your brother's tragic demise, who for years was your best friend because your family moved so frequently. To complete this wonderful journey of grief and loneliness, you can share the pressure you feel as the only remaining child, and the difficulties you and your parents encounter, particularly around the holidays, as those fond childhood memories painfully resurface.'
'No,' Arizona thinks, 'I'm going to pick Door #1.' Maybe I'll get Mark and Survivor Guilt or even Rash and Idiotic Decisions. She prayed Caretaker Callie was NOT one of the prizes lurking, because, really, it would be just too raw and painful. If her seething anger resurfaced, it would be hard for Ben to champion her regarding Sofia. 'Maybe I should pick Door #2?'
Resigning herself to the fact it's going to get harder before it's gets easier, Arizona knows the 'door' for each and every compartmentalized, emotional memory will need to be pulled wide open.
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Callie's week was very productive, inspired by need rather than enthusiasm. The minute her mind wandered, it immediately drifted to Alicia's words, so she worked harder to avoid distraction. Unfortunately, no matter how she analyzed Alicia's words, her ideas were not all that far-fetched. Callie did some reading on the subject and it is not surprising that Arizona is struggling. Being perfect and desirable were attributes Arizona strives to emulate. "There are women lining up for me. I'm hot!" Arizona spoke with such confidence after the whole French restaurant fiasco.
'She could walk the walk', Callie thought, cringing at the irony. 'Before me, Arizona was a player,' she rationalizes.
Willing to have a conversation with the therapist about the whole thing on Thursday, Callie is anxious to understand how it all connects to the cheating. She will meet the woman and pacify her mentor, mucking her way through the whole damn thing – again.
Wednesday night, Callie and Sofia return home late. Office hours ran a hour beyond the usual 4 p.m. due to the lineup of students seeking guidance for an assigned paper she thought was uncomplicated; she thought wrong.
Picking Sofia up from daycare at 5:30 p.m., they stop by the coffee shop for dinner before grocery shopping. Without a surgeon's hours, she is cooking more, which she loves, but cooking for just her and a picky 4 year old is not all that satisfying. Alicia was over for dinner once and Zach is well paid in baked goods, but preparing a nice dinner for one is dull.
After a fun bubble bath and story time, Sofia easily settles down, snuggling comfortably in her bed and drifting immediately to sleep. Deciding a bath would be perfect for her too, Callie searches for her journals, realizing they are still in the car, in her school bag. With the bath water running, she scoots out to grab her bag, passing the mailbox.
Curiously peering in, she expects to find the mailbox empty, but instead finds an envelope, with recognizable, impeccable penmanship. Noting the improved handwriting, she debates whether to ignore the box's contents; she suspect's the envelope's significance and letter writer's request. She abruptly shuts the mailbox, deciding ignorance is bliss, opting to leave the letter untouched.
Agitated and wound tighter than a top, Callie returns to the tub to soak, but even a luxurious bubble bath doesn't help. Walking to her bedroom, the fireplace catches her eye, provoking a disturbing but foolish image. It is unsettling enough that it disturbs her ability to fall asleep, leaving her to wonder whether she will wake to a living room full of mail or even a 'Howler', with the letter impersonating Arizona's shrieking voice:
'Calliope Torres, you get back here this instance! Who do you think you are leaving like that? Taking our child!'
Barely having slept due to her Harry Potter apparitions, Callie remains unhinged Thursday morning as she drives Sofia to daycare. Feeling ridiculous for her overactive imagination, she knows her guilty conscious is to blame. Making matters worse, her eyes gravitate to seemingly endless mailboxes along the way, conjuring the image of her own chasing her car, yelling: "Your letter, you forgot your letter!" or jumping in front, causing an accident. "Sorry officer, I was driving down the street, minding my own business, and the mailbox darted right in front of my car," would get her locked up for sure. Callie is thankful to reach the daycare without incident.
Arriving to her lecture distracted, Callie begins her case presentation when a student raises her hand and asks: "Are you discussing male…"
"What's mail have to do with this? We're talking patients here," Callie snaps, interrupting the student. Looking at her teacher, questioning what just transpired, she drops her query to let Dr. Torres continue.
As the lecture winds down, Callie's students are keenly aware she is having a bad day, finding her information scattered and disjointed. "Dr. T, could we see your notes again? Maybe you could post them?" one inquires, seeking clarification.
"Notes, what notes? No, we're not going there. Class is over for today," she dismissively announces. Obviously frazzled, Callie walks out of the room, leaving her things behind.
"Okay, that was weird….Torres was all over the place…..What's eating her?" the students mutter between themselves.
Jesse, one of Sofia's babysitters, defends her teacher. "Agreed. She was really weird this morning but we're all allowed an off day; cut her some slack, she's still the best teacher we've got."
Xxxxxx
xxxxxx
"That was the worst class I ever taught," Callie admits, as she escapes outside for some fresh air.
"Screw-it." Getting in her car and driving to her house, Callie pulls up to the mailbox, parks the car, and opens her window. Peaking in the mailbox, she removes the malevolent envelope cautiously, as if it may attack her. "Arizona mailed this on Saturday," she notes out loud.
Carefully tearing the envelope, she reads Arizona's carefully scribed letter. With rising anxiety, Callie opens the car door and vomits onto the ground, aware the inevitable moment that Sofia will need to be discussed with Arizona has arrived.
Callie refuses to allow their daughter to be used like a pawn in a chess match. Sofia loves Arizona, and Callie knows it's mutual. Biology holds little significance for Callie, given her mother so easily discarded their own relationship. Sofia lost her father but still has two, loving parents, which will not change. Peering further in the envelope, she removes a business card for Dr. Benjamin Alexander, Psychologist. Grabbing her cell, she dials.
"Dr. Alexander's office," a woman answers.
"Could I speak with Dr. Alexander, please? I believe he's expecting my call. My name is Callie Torres."
"Dr. Alexander is with a patient right now. If you leave your number, I'll have him return your call," she replies pleasantly.
"I'd rather not. When would be a good time to call back?" Callie responds.
"Well, between 12 and 1, he doesn't see patients. You could try then," the secretary suggests.
"Thank you; I will do that. Please leave him a message to expect my call," Callie asks, ending the call.
Returning to campus, Callie collects her belongings and recognizing the need to apologize to her students for her disjointed lecture. Perhaps, she can make it up to them next week with an awesome albeit gruesome case; the meat grinder one. With an hour until noon and in dire need of coffee, despite her stomach, she makes her way to the café.
"Dr. T," she hears.
Seeing some of her students gathered around a table, she walks over. "Hey," she sheepishly greets: "This morning's lecture wasn't my best. I'm sorry."
"So, it's okay that we're not sure exactly what you were talking about?" the students, clearly relieved, ask.
Callie can't help but chuckle, "Really? That bad?"
Jesse pipes in: "A bit scattered. It's okay Doc; we've been there."
"Listen, I have a few minutes. Why don't I answer some of your questions. Coffees are on me," she offers, spending the next hour recovering the lecture. Jesse creates a solid set of notes.
"I'll post these so everyone can see them," Callie says. "I'll get them back to you."
"I'll come by later and pick them up?" Jesse proposes.
"Actually, can you come by my house later today, around 3:00 and stay with Sofia? I have some things to do, and may take in a movie or something after," thinking about her upcoming appointment. Looking at her watch, Callie announces; "I need to go. Let's do this more often."
Deciding her lab is the best place for privacy, she heads straight there and redials the number on her cell.
"Ben Alexander," the man identifies himself.
"Hello," pausing a moment, "this Callie Torres. Arizona Robbins sent me your card."
"Dr. Torres; I'm glad you called," Ben genuinely replies.
An uncomfortable silence follows. Callie, having no idea what to say, so Ben decides to take the lead, "I imagine this is a hard time for you, and making this call was difficult."
"I'm doing this because it's the right thing for Sofia," Callie declares.
"That's a very good reason," Ben thoughtfully responds. "Arizona would like to take Sofia for a bit; she is thinking this Saturday. She's in a good place and there are no safety concerns or red flags on my part."
Callie stays silent.
Ben deduces that Callie Torres is conflicted, struggling as she processes the request. "Dr. Torres, if I may be so bold, you called because it's the right thing to do. I'm guessing that you're willing to let Sofia spend time with Arizona, but you're torn having Sofia leave you?"
Callie's silence continues.
"Are you still there, Dr. Torres?"
"I'm here," Callie struggles to answer.
"This must be hard and I understand this year has been hell for both of you. Recovering some of your relationship with Arizona, even if it's as co-parents, needs to start somewhere. Arizona suggested that each of you have Sofia for two weeks? It would give you both a full weekend in the middle?" he proffers.
"Two weeks?" Callie distressingly responds.
"One week creates instability for Sofia since, according to Arizona, you live a few hours away," Ben explains.
"How do I know Arizona is managing okay?" challenges Callie dubiously.
"I currently see Arizona three times per week. The daycare is all set, your usual babysitters are still in place and she asked Miranda Bailey to keep an eye on things. If you have additional concerns or worries, you can call Arizona or Ms. Bailey," Ben reasons.
Callie reluctantly concedes that Arizona has covered all the bases, "Okay; she can take Sofia. I need to think about the timeframe." Ben can't see the tears streaming down Callie's cheeks, but can hear them in her voice.
"If I may suggest, you don't need to stay unconnected with Sofia while she's in Arizona's care. Between Skype, Facetime, or even a phone call, you can talk with her as often as you need," Ben proposes. "I'm aware you severed ties with Arizona, but if you're sharing a child, contact is essential and maybe it's time to re-establish some means of communication for Sofia's sake. Think about it. Can I tell Arizona you'll meet her Saturday?" Ben hopefully asks.
"I'll meet her at 2 o'clock at Chuck E. Cheese in Ellenburg," Callie tearfully replies.
"I'll let her know. Thank-you Dr. Torres. Goodbye," Ben says.
"Goodbye," Callie ends the call, tears now unabashedly flowing.
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Ben quickly calls Arizona, leaving a message with the good news, "I just spoke with Dr. Torres. You're all set to take Sofia on Saturday. We'll talk more at tomorrow's appointment."
Xxxx
Arizona is giddy at lunch. "What's with you?" Alex gruffly asks.
"I'm going to get Sofia for a little bit," she answers.
"Really?" Meredith says. "Well, maybe Sunday you can come over for a play date? Zola would love that, she misses Sofia. So you've spoken to Callie?"
"Not exactly. I'll see her on Saturday. A play date might be good, but I don't want to make plans until I actually have Sofia, in case Callie changes her mind," Arizona responds.
Xxxxx
Callie walks into the house-turned-office at 3:25 pm on Thursday afternoon. Like everything in this town, the space is homespun and looks nothing like a therapist's office. A woman, younger than Callie, pops her head out: "Hi".
"I have an appointment with Dr. Mills. I'm Callie Torres," she says sucking in a breath.
"That's me; I'm Deena Mills," the younger woman says introducing herself.
Callie stands speechless.
"You seem a bit unsure," Dr. Mills curiously interjects.
Callie refocuses, "Sorry. I was expecting someone older than me."
Dr. Mills laughs, "I assure you, I'm a doctor, probably older than you think and very qualified. But counseling is about finding the right fit, so why don't you give today a try and if you're still uncomfortable, I'll recommend a different, older therapist. How does that sound?"
Callie nods tentatively, walks towards the room turned office and takes a seat in a comfortable chair with an ottoman that gives her a view out the window.
The two women spend a few minutes with introductions, then Dr. Mills suggests, "Why don't you give me a little insight as to what brought you here?"
"A friend suggested I come. I left my wife after she was unfaithful. My friend seems to think that I'm not entirely fault-free," Callie is clearly peeved as she explains.
"Often, I'm not saying it's true in your case, something else is happening with the person or within the relationship that precipitates the infidelity. Was there anything that concerned you?" Dr. Mills inquires.
"We had a few challenges," Callie acknowledges reluctantly.
"Such as….," the young doctor prods.
"Arizona, my wife, was in a plane crash about a year ago. People died, including my best friend, who was the father of our daughter. Arizona's leg needed to be amputated because of infection and I couldn't save it; I tried but I couldn't. I'm an orthopedic surgeon. When I thought we were getting better, she decided to screw some woman she just met in the hospital where we work. There is other stuff, but that's the big stuff." Anger now spewing from Callie as she finishes her story, "Sorry, that's a lot to dump."
"I hope you're not apologizing," Dr. Mills responds. "Communicating honestly is really important. If you feel you need to apologize for doing that, well that is a problem."
Callie smiles at the confident demeanor this doctor exhibits.
Intrigued by the reaction, Dr. Mills asks: "Dr. Torres, what's so amusing?"
"You. I underestimated you. I can be intimidating, yet you aren't fazed by me, which I do find a bit intimidating," Callie replies.
Deena Mills assumes Callie is complimenting her and takes it as such. "So, did you want to continue? Because if you're looking for someone meeker, I'm not your person. I know my stuff and I won't sugar-coat it. I can help you."
"We're fine, we can keep going," Callie responds.
"Dr. Torres, it sounds like your relationship has undergone dramatic changes," Dr. Mills says. "Let's start with your role over the last year. I'd like to understand the basics of your tasks and responsibilities," the psychologist requests.
"Why?" Callie challenges. "This is about my wife, not me."
"It's about both of you but you're here as an individual for counseling, so it's more about self-reflection. I'm assuming you're here to talk about you, and how you were impacted. This last year must have been difficult. You needed to suddenly manage your disabled spouse. Describe your support system?" Dr. Mills shares staring directly at Callie.
"There wasn't one. There were homecare nurses, but she kept firing them. I essentially handled it," Callie discloses.
"How did that make you feel?" the psychologist asked.
'Oh my god,' Callie thinks, 'they really do ask that question in therapy.'
"What do you mean 'how did it make me feel'? It sucked! It really, really sucked! I was already on overload because she refused to do anything, even have a conversation, then she fires the nurses. What the hell was she thinking? I'm not Wonder Woman," Callie acrimoniously replies.
"Ok, so obviously you harbor some anger. Was there anyone else who could help you manage? How about her physician? Did he or she help her advocate for herself, and help with the steps of healing?" the therapist questions.
"I was the flippin' physician. I was overseeing her care. So 'no', to answer your question," Callie rages.
Surprised by the disclosure, Dr. Mills asks. "You oversaw your spouse's care? That's not generally accepted medical practice."
"I know," Callie confesses. "I was overseeing her care initially, since that's what she wanted; she didn't want anyone else. I was the most qualified. Once she was able to use her prosthetic, she handled her own care."
"You mentioned a daughter; has your wife been involved as a parent?"
Callie responds, "In the beginning, no, but she has been the last few months."
"Describe your relationship before the accident," Dr. Mills requests.
Callie smiles and even blushes as she thinks back, "Awesome; we were always together. Surgeon's schedules are crazy, but we tried to even eat our meals together, take turns cooking, though I probably cooked more. She's not much of a cook. We were fun, spontaneous, even with a child."
Very matter of fact-like, Dr. Mills asks: "How about your sex life?"
Surprised by the question, Callie sputters out, "What?"
"Your wife had sexual relations with another person. So part of the issue here connects to physical intimacy. Will you tell me a bit about your sexual connection? Are you comfortable sharing that?"
"I have no problem discussing sex," Callie responds, though a bit insulted. "Look, we had a very healthy, adventurous, spur of the moment sex life. It was probably above average; way above average," Callie offers sheepishly. "Then, of course, with the plane crash, it abruptly ended."
"What I'm hearing is that, first off, you said you couldn't 'save the leg' as if it was your task to do that. Then, for the better part of the year you became Arizona's primary caregiver and doctor."
Flustered by the conversation, Callie replies: "It was my job; I'm an orthopedic surgeon, that's what I do. I'm damn good at my job, probably the best on the west coast. So, yes; it was my responsibility to save her leg. I failed and the infection won. Of course, I was the caregiver; spouses are often the primary caregivers. Plus, she didn't want anyone else to help her. She didn't even want me, but she had no choice. But I thought things were better."
Dr. Mills purposely challenges Callie's response, "So, are you saying essentially everything was returning to the way it was before the accident?"
Unsettled by the question, Callie sputters another response, "No, of course it wasn't! Arizona went back to work, she was back to being fully involved as Sofia's mother, we were talking and we were being intimate. After months she let me touch her and we built up to having sex again, which was the hardest part to recover. Clearly, she overcame any insecurities; she hopped into bed with someone else."
Staring directly at Callie, Dr. Mills asks: "Are you surprised by your wife's reaction post-accident? Usually psychological therapy accompanies a trauma this severe. How did that go?"
"It didn't, neither of us got therapy. There was too much going on, no time I guess and Arizona tends to manage things on her own. Looking back, I get that she should have gone for therapy" Callie defends.
"Did anyone even suggest seeing an amputee support group, couple's therapy or even see a sex therapist?" the younger woman inquires.
"A sex therapist? Like Dr. Ruth, really? I'm betting I could teach a few things about sex," Callie huffily replies.
Laughing, Dr. Mills answers. "Exactly like a Dr. Ruth; it's about learning to physically reconnect. It's often recommended for couples, especially when one partner experiences injuries that cause physical disfigurement. Believe it or not, there are steps to follow when attempting to reestablish physical intimacy after serious physical trauma."
Shaking her head in disbelief, Callie questions: "Why? It seems like it should be like riding a bike, you don't forget."
Taking on a more serious tone, Dr. Mills elaborates, "It's not the mechanics of sex; it's the trusting part. You both needed professional help. Dr. Torres, you went from being a sexual being to an asexual one. Your physical contact became perfunctory and functional, instead of intimate and seductive. Was your wife confined to your bedroom as part of the recovery? If so, what memories does that space hold? Going to bed, positioning, grappling with her prosthetic; they all represent hard, day-to-day reminders of her accident. Now, consider that in a sexual context; especially for a spontaneous, active couple like you described yourselves. You used the term 'adventurous'. Sex can, at times, lead to more acrobatic moves that must now be very difficult, if not painful with one leg. Did you ever have that discussion?" the young doctor questions.
Callie shakes her head no. "We really didn't talk about any of it. What are you saying? That I became a non-entity to Arizona? That I changed, because she is the one who changed? Are you insinuating that our apartment is now a bad memory, so every time we go to bed it's a trigger to her nightmares? That our bed or even the shower are horrific reminders of the plane crash? That's absurd!"
The young doctor calmly continues to illustrate, "Is it? Your bedroom, your bathroom and even you, are associated with the trauma. They're constant reminders of how much changed for her in comparison to before her disability."
Tears roll freely down Callie's face, as her mind thinks back to the last shower they took together, albeit reluctantly. Callie's memories were heartbreaking.
Dr. Mills asks: "Dr. Torres, will you share what you are thinking?"
"The last time we were in the shower together," while the doctor logically assumes it's a long-lost, fond memory, Callie's recollection is disheartening, remembering she forced Arizona into the shower. Arizona must hate her for that.
Callie leaves her appointment feeling drained and guilty. However, it's a welcome change from the usual anger. She was so consumed with caring for everyone, and keeping the hospital together, she missed what happened to her marriage. She made another appointment for the next week, still in disbelief that her shrink is some young upstart and a smart one at that.
Pulling out her cell phone, Callie sends a text: I'll see you Saturday. Callie
Moments later, a quick reply: :) Thank you