A week later, Ruth called me to her office to tell me that the psych registrar was visiting tomorrow. She had taken me off work for the day, but I was to be there for his arrival at midday. I was floored. I had no idea what strings she had to pull to organise this. This had to be the first time anything close to a specialist had ever come to Keyes.
I felt an overwhelming dread over the coming consultation. I knew Ruth had said I could stay, but that promise had a caveat - the psych registrar had to agree with it. I had never got the whole psych thing. I understood it was important, I mean, most of the time, it's the discussion that helps the patient more than the medicine, but I just couldn't come to grips with why talking about your unfortunate childhood would make you feel better. Why telling some stranger all your embarrassing secrets would be a relief. Besides, that point was fairly moot with me. I was fairly sure if I told the coming quack that I was in a bad mood cause my vampire boyfriend left me because I wasn't immortal or interesting enough for him, I wouldn't be able to stay in Keyes.
I stumbled around the house aimlessly. I couldn't think of the last time I had taken the afternoon off. The sun was still up in the sky, and my perpetually drawn curtains were not enough to keep all the light from sneaking in. My house was already clean - I had done it after I did my morning shift at the clinic - and I had no more Sudoku puzzles to do. There was nothing interesting on TV, in fact, it was so uninteresting that it would probably only let my mind drift more. It was too early for sleep, even though I was dead tired. I don't think my dreams were congruent with keeping my mental health good enough to fool Dr Freud tomorrow.
So I decided to read a book. Only problem was that the only book I hadn't read a hundred times before was a cookbook. Oh well, it would have to do. So I sat down, and I read it. I read through breads and sauces, cakes and biscuits, mains, desserts…had to admit, it made me hungry.
So I went for a wander down to the shop to pick up ingredients for creamy peppercorn pappardelle (at least, whatever ingredients I could get and substitutes for others - remote groceries are really lacking in variety), came home and started cooking.
I was feeling proud of myself. I had kept myself occupied, and I was even cooking myself a meal. Why anyone would feel the need to be worried about me, I didn't know. My dinner was actually starting to smell pretty good. Well, at least humans would think so.
I remember when I cooked with Oliver around. Meal times were one of the many times I was aware of how much more than human he was. He would sit at the table, watching me, and when the aroma finally drifted around him, he would screw up his nose. I always told him that he didn't have to be around as I ate, but he always said that while he could put up with small things like bad odours, he couldn't put up with not being around me…
Oh dear. Not as occupied as I thought.
I felt my heart squeeze as my legs involuntarily folded beneath me. I wrapped my arms around my legs and rocked myself backwards and forwards until the pain of the memory subsided. By then, I could smell burning. I jumped up and took the pasta off the stove, but most of it had already burnt. I sighed as I turned the hot plates off and started plating up my food. I brought it over to the table and started to eat.
I managed to keep myself occupied for the rest of the evening, but I did eventually run out of things to do and decided that sleep was the best option. Even if I did dream, I hoped my early night would allow me to wake early enough to get my emotions in check before my appointment with the shrink.
I was surprised when I woke at nearly ten the next morning. I couldn't remember what I dreamed about, but still my pillow was soaked with the tears I shed. The sleep-in was almost a relief. It meant that I had no time to think about what was coming. In fact, I was in such a rush, I didn't have time to think about anything, which could only be a good thing.
It was nearing midday as I arrived at the airstrip in my Land Cruiser. I sat in the car with the music on loud, waiting for the small plane to appear in the sky. I finally saw the small RFDS plane coming in to land, so I got out to stand next to my car. I wanted to look as professional as possible.
I waited as the plane landed, and was washed in the shower of red dust that accompanies a landing, and I waited as the door swung down and a dark figure in a loose white shirt and jeans climbed out. I smiled as I recognised the passenger.
"Hey, Dale!" I called over. My medico that looked after me on my flight to Broome all that time ago, the man who had revealed that Oliver Monroe was the Warrengibie's Liiver Man, a soul drinker. How could I ever forget him?
He smiled at me and loped over, the most graceful man I had ever seen, with only one exception.
"Hi Kaia! How's it going?"
"Oh, you know. Is someone else on the plane? I was told a psych registrar was coming in on it." No need to mention the psych was intended for me.
"Nope, just me"
"Oh, so is there another flight coming today?"
"Kaia, I am the psych registrar. Well, I used to be one anyway, and I was told that would be adequate for your needs." He flashed me a brilliant smile.
"You're the psych reg? I thought you were an emergency doc?"
"I was a psych reg, I'm now an emergency doc. Things change, you know. So, where do you want to chat with me? I'm all happy for this airfield but I think it's a bit dusty."
"Oh, well, I guess my consulting room at the hospital is vacant."
"Do you think people would get the wrong idea if you invited me home?"
I glared at him, but his eyes were joking. I forced a smile to my face. He seemed slightly taken aback by my expression.
"Consulting room is good. Come on, lead the way good doctor."
Dale got settled pretty quickly after we arrived at my office. He sat in the chair intended for the patient, and I managed to retain the doctor's position in the room. I wondered - had it been someone else's room, would we have had the same arrangement? Dale fooled around with items in his backpack, pulling out a small notepad and pen, before leaning back and putting on glasses. I had to stifle a laugh.
He smiled at me, wagging his eyebrows at me in encouragement.
"So, who wants to start?"
Neither a rebellious part of me said, but instead I told him, "I think it's traditional you start."
"That's true enough. It's just that most of my questions are going to be really unimaginative. So, can you start by telling me what's happened to bring you to me today?"
I looked at him. For a man I had only ever met once before today, he looked awfully familiar. Admittedly, he was a greater part of my life than he knew, a fulcrum of fate, but still, I felt comfortable with him here. Like you would with an older brother. It was a shame that we had to reunite under such circumstances. All that being said, I was still worried about how much I should disclose to him. Wanting to keep my job warred with me wanting to be truthful. I sighed but began my story.
"I confronted an armed man who had killed his brother and shot his wife last week. My DON thought it wasn't normal for me to do this and called you."
He just sat there, waiting for me to continue.
"She's worried I'm depressed or have PTSD because three months ago I went through…a traumatic event…"
"I'm sorry to hear that. What sort of traumatic event?"
"I was in a car accident while I was in the US. The breaks were faulty. I ended up in hospital with a broken leg and I lost my spleen, but otherwise I was unharmed."
"That must have been difficult for you."
"Not really."
He watched me, knowing I was omitting something from my story. I sighed once more, figuring if I didn't tell him, he would talk to Ruth and then I'd be in trouble.
"No, what was difficult was that Oliver broke up with me while I was recuperating in hospital. I don't know if you knew, but I dated Dr Monroe for almost five months…"
I wondered how he would take this, I mean, he knew the tales of Liiver Man, but did he have any belief in them?
"I hadn't heard. I'm sorry it didn't work out. I'm sorry to ask, but why did Oliver decide to end your relationship?"
It was difficult to hear someone say Oliver's name. It felt like the only thing I had left of him that belonged to me.
"We wanted different things from it. He didn't want to lead me on. Besides, he got offered a new job and I couldn't follow him. He just wanted to end it before it got even more difficult for me if he left." The words were true enough, and they hurt. I desperately tried to hold back my tears.
"That sounds fairly harsh. Him leaving you right after your accident."
"No." I looked him in the eye - I did not want Oliver judged; he was right to leave. "I told him to leave. He wanted to stay with me until I got home. It wasn't fair on him. He's always so self-sacrificing."
"So why are you having difficulty adjusting to his absence?"
"Because…" I shook my head, where to start? "I miss him. He used to be the first thing I saw in the morning and the last thing I saw at night. He made the long work days bearable. He was an amazing teacher. With him, I learnt more about myself than I ever had on my own. I felt for once in my life that I was complete, that I had a family. For the first time in my life I allowed myself to be dependent on someone other than myself. I'm only doing so badly because of how selfish I am. I should be happy for him in his new life, but I can't. I feel like I only have half of who I was before…"
He just looked at me, unjudging, as the words poured out of me uncontrollably. I'd forgotten how emotionally incontinent I was at the moment. I could feel the tears burning in my eyes, threatening me. I pulled myself up before they had a chance to escape.
"I've just been down cause I'm trying to rewrite who I am on my own. I'm waiting to find my feet. It's just taken a little longer than anticipated. But I'm truly fine. I love my job and I love being in Keyes. I'm not sure what I'd do if I had to leave."
He was looking at me, as an aura of professionalism started to surround him. I braced myself for his questions.
"In the past four weeks, how often did you feel tired for no good reason?"
"Please, Dale, don't do a K10 on me."
"Kaia, in the past four weeks, how often did you feel tired for no good reason?"
"I don't want to do this, Dale. Besides, what's the point if I already know which answers to give?"
"Because I'm hoping that you'll be truthful with me. I want to help you." The look of pleading in his eyes, if anything, made me even more frustrated. Did he really think I was depressed?
"Fine! In the past 4 weeks, I have felt tired some of the time. I have felt nervous some of the time, but I haven't felt so nervous that nothing could calm me down. I feel hopeless most of the time, I also feel restless and fidgety most of the time. And for some of the time I was so restless I couldn't sit still. I feel depressed some of the time, and all the time everything feels like an effort. I am always so sad that nothing could cheer me up, and I always feel worthless, except when I'm doing my job, which by answering these questions, I am probably going to lose too. So do you think I'm depressed, Dale?"
He sat in silence for a second, looking reasonably depressed himself.
"Are you depressed, Kaia?"
I sighed with frustration.
"I don't know, what does my K10 answers tell you?" I answered sardonically.
"Have you ever wished that you didn't exist?"
He wasn't going to answer my question. Evidently he felt I already knew.
"Have you ever had thoughts about dying?"
I wasn't going to dignify his question with an answer.
"Have you ever made any plans in regard to killing yourself?"
"Have you tried to get your affairs in order?"
"Have you ever attempted to kill yourself?"
"No!" I couldn't stand the barrage of questions any longer. "Dale, I don't want to kill myself. I have never even thought of killing myself. The first I found out that people thought I was depressed was when Ruth pulled me into her office and told me I had to talk to you. I am fine. Honestly!"
"Then why are you being so defensive?"
"Because I've got someone asking me if I have plans to top myself! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel when people think of me that way?"
"We just want to help, Kaia."
"But this isn't help! If I wanted your help, I would ask for it! This just makes me feel even worse about the entire situation. I never meant for anyone else to get involved with this."
Dale just looked at me, evaluating me.
I sighed and put my head in my hands.
"Please tell me this is over."
"It's over, Kaia. I'm not going to suggest you leave Keyes. I do think that you are probably depressed, but as long as you think you're managing with it and working towards resolving it, I'm happy with you to stay here. Just promise me that if you do ever think about hurting yourself, you let someone know, whether that's me, or Ruth, or Dr Young."
"I can promise you that much, Dale." I smiled at him.
He smiled back at me, as I continued to grin like an idiot. I was safe. I could stay. Sure, he thought I was depressed, but he didn't think I was suicidal, which was good. And he'd be gone on the next flight so then I could go back to the way things were.
"So, seeming I'm sort of marooned here for a while, how about we go out to dinner?"
I looked at my clock, surprised at how late it already was. It was already 5:30. How long did our conversation really go for?
"I haven't got anything to cook."
"How bout we go out for a meal. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."
"Only place to eat out is the pub and you can guess how good food there is."
"Think I can manage with pub food."
He smiled at me again, and I couldn't help but smile back.
"Ok, off to the pub we go."
