ARIZONA'S POINT OF VIEW.
"Let me speak!" Callie yelled
"I'm letting you," I said trying not to get to wound up too early.
"My anger towards you has nothing to do with my diagnosis," Callie said simply. "You were home one day then the next day you were doing 16 hour shifts. That's not fair on me or the kids" she said.
"This was the plan Callie, you never told me you wanted anything different. I didn't know," I said, a hint of regret in my voice as I spoke.
"I've been struggling for weeks Arizona. I've been telling you for weeks that I needed your help at home but you weren't here," Callie said as she stood up against the kitchen counter, me on the other side shooting back remarks like we were playing verbal ping pong
"And I've been struggling too," I told her. That was the point I had been trying to make all along. "I go to work, I spend all day saving children, sometimes I lose them and I have to go tell a mother, just like yourself, that her child is never coming back. Then I have to come home and get yelled at by the woman I love more than anything in the world because I haven't changed a diaper or I missed dinner. Then I sleep on the couch, get up the next morning and do it all again," I said reminiscing on the past four days of what my life had become.
"I'm not yelling for nothing. I'm angry because you're not helping me with the kids Arizona, I'm here all alone, day in, day out, dealing with your three children. I feel the need to remind you that they are your children," Callie said sternly.
"Do you know what it feels like to be told you're a shit parent and a selfish wife?" I asked her.
"Well actually yeah I do. If I recall you jumped down my throat in front of our friend about not noticing Charlee's hypothyroidism which not only questioned me as a mother but as a doctor as well," she responded angrily.
I took a deep breath. We had vowed to keep this conversation as civil as possible and I intended to keep that promise. "I was scared for our son. I was scared and I lashed out. I apologized. You're not mad at me about that though Callie. You're mad because I went back to work, like we had discussed and you struggled, which is alright but I can't read your mind Callie. If you had wanted me to return with less hours, or not return so soon then you needed to tell me. I was just doing what we talked about. We talked about me returning at 6 weeks and you returning part time at 12 weeks. I didn't know that had changed for you," I said calmly.
"I didn't know they would be so much work," she responded honestly.
"I just feel like it's unfair for you to be mad at me for going back to work when it is what we had always discussed. I assumed you saying return to work meant that you also knew what hours a pediatric surgeon was expected to work," I tried to explain.
"Do you know what's unfair? You go off to work all day while I stay home and take care of our children, you come home, you play the victim and make me out to be the bitchy wife when you know all I want is help. Then you spend 4 nights on the couch and blame it on the postnatal depression. I'm not crazy Arizona, I'm struggling. I thought I could count on my wife to be here but you're too busy avoiding me to bother," Callie spat angrily.
"I am working. WORKING!" I repeated.
"Tell me you're not avoiding coming home?" she challenged me.
"If I was it's because this happens. You spend all night yelling at me, telling me I'm a bad mother or I'm a bad wife. You knew who I was from the moment you met me Callie. I am a surgeon. My whole life has been dedicated to surgery. Then I met you and I found room for both you and surgery. Somewhere along the way we had a family and I fell in love with our family but surgery hasn't stopped being who I am just because I have children," I tried to reason.
"You care more about your job than your kids, that's what your saying?" she questioned rhetorically.
"Don't put words in my mouth Callie," I warned her. "I love my children, all of them and I love you, even when you're acting crazy," I said, not even considering the implications my words could have on Callie.
"I'M NOT CRAZY!" Callie yelled. "Just go," she said angrily as she walked towards the door, opening it wide in attempt to make her point.
"Calliope," I pleaded.
"Don't Calliope me. You don't want to be here so don't be," she said simply.
I looked at Callie and I realised that the best thing to do was just leave. We had reached this point so many times this week and still neither one of us had reached a conclusion. We were going round and round in circles. Callie thought I was working too much and doing very little to help the babies and her in a time of need. I thought it was unfair that she was mad at me for being at work when me returning to work had been the plan all along. Both of us had done and said things we weren't proud of and ultimately we both felt lonely and hurt yet neither one of us was willing to admit complete fault.
I walked out the front door, the door closing behind me. I sighed softly, closed my eyes and leant up against the front door. "Fuck," I whispered to myself, beating myself up that I had let it get to that point AGAIN. Every night I'd come home with the intentions of repairing our relationship but each night I found myself subject to an attack on me as both a wife and a mother, both which I defended pridefully.
I didn't have my car keys so I hailed a cab down to the only place I could think of; Joes. Joe was around for all the life changing moments. He had single handedly encouraged mine and Callies first encounter, giving me a free tequila shot to encourage my bold decision to enter that bathroom after Callie. I arrived down at Joe's and was happy to find company in Alex Karev who was drinking his sorrows away after losing one of his long term, cancer surviving patients.
"I know why I'm here, but why are you here?" he slurred as I slumped onto a bar stool and motioned to Joe for a drink.
"Well my wife kicked me out of home," I laughed, masking the pain of my words.
"Why are you here?" I asked curiously knowing he too was fighting demons.
"Michael Webber died today," he said before sculling the rest of his beer and hailing for another one.
"Oh no. I had no idea," I said sincerely my eyes flickering down to the drink Joe had just placed in front of me. "Thanks Joe," I murmured quietly before taking a sip. "What happened?" I asked him curiously.
"Car accident of all things," he mumbled, closing his eyes to stabilize himself. "He was my first peads case. I was an intern. Every time he was admitted, I was there. I told him three times that he was cancer free. Three times that boy beat cancer," he said as he gave Joe a gentle wave when the beer appeared in front of him. "Three times he beat death only to be killed by a lunatic who didn't stop at a red light. How cruel is that," he said as he took a large gulp of his freshly poured beer. "Life's short Robbins, you should do whatever you need to do to make it right with your girl" Alex said as he glanced up at the blonde.
"Callie has postnatal depression," I announced. "We just can't stop fighting. I've slept on the couch for the last four nights," I explained.
"You love her right?" he slurred.
"Yes. Of course," I said without a second thought.
"Then bloody show her you love her. Whatever it is that's bugging her, fix it. Torres is going through something neither one of us have ever experienced before and she is going through it after giving birth to your children. If you love her, you stick by her, even if it means getting yelled at, even if it means sleeping on the couch, even if it means you become a stay at home parent. Life's too short not to tell the people we care about that we care about them," he mumbled before taking another sip. "And by the way Robbins, I care about you and I care about Torres and I care about those little munchkins of yours. Just know that," he said before taking another swift chug of his beer.
I sat there quietly, pondering Alex's words as I sipped at my drink. Who knew Alex could be so wise, especially in the state he was in. The death of a patient could be rough, it was even rougher if you had invested time and emotional energy on them. I took Alex home, dropping him into the arms of Jo who he wouldn't stop announcing his love for.
"Thanks Arizona," Jo said as I watched Jo drag him inside before asking the taxi driver to return me home. I had decided Alex was right. I had announced to Callie's father that I was a good man in a storm and a good man in a storm was what I was going to be.
I settled in on the couch for the night, waking at 4 to the sound of the babies crying. I rolled off the couch immediately and I walked down the hall, meeting Callie halfway, "I'll get them," I whispered as I opened the door and walked into the nursery, leaving Callie the chance to get an extra couple hours of sleep.
I spent the next couple of hours looking after the boys, feeding them, changing them, playing with them and soothing them when necessary. Callie finally got out of bed at 6am, it appeared she was still ignoring me, despite my efforts to improve her faith in me.
"I made breakfast," I told her as I stirred the scrambled eggs.
"I'm not hungry," she muttered as she headed down the hall to wake up Sofia.
I did everything that Callie would have done that morning, including the grocery shop she had been tirelessly putting off but none of my efforts were met with gratitude. I spent the day at home trying to help out around the house but my presence just made Callie crawl into our room and hide from the world and all her responsibilities.
In the evening I settled down to watch finding Dory with the children, even that Callie refused to join us for. I put the boys down at 6 and I enjoyed some quality time with Sofia; it had been too long since we had spent time together.
I went to put Sofia to bed, her intrigue and curiosity getting the better of her when it came to her parents struggling relationship.
"Is Mum mad at you?" Sofia asked.
"Not not at all," I lied as I pushed her hair back from her face, "Mama has a cold," I lied again.
I tucked Sofia into bed before trailing through to the bedroom I hadn't slept in for nearly a week, "I'm going to sleep in our bed tonight," I announced hoping she would have no objections.
Callie didn't respond but the moment I climbed into bed she started climbing out, grabbing her pillow as if to sleep on the couch.
"Callie," I pleaded but she wasn't ready to listen.
"I'll go," I insisted as I got back out of bed and I left the room, leaving my bed and my wife behind.
Another night on the couch. Another early morning, another long day with the children while Callie locked herself up in the room. I wasn't mad anymore, I was just worried. Nothing I said or did seemed to pull her out of whatever she was going through.
That night after the kids were finally asleep I approached the room cautiously, "Can we talk," I asked her curiously but she didn't respond. "I'll talk, you just listen," I suggested as I leant up against the door.
"I don't know what you're going through and I am beyond sorry that it took me so long to realise you were really, truly struggling and even longer to do something about it. I'm her Cal, I'm here for you," I said, hoping the words would help her realise she wasn't alone but she still didn't respond. "I don't know what to do babe. I want to help you but I don't know what to do," I said, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
"Go to work Arizona, that's where you'd rather be," she said angrily.
I shook my head, "I'm not going anywhere, I'm not leaving you," I said sternly.
I watched Callie slowly slip into bed, her head burying into her pillow as she tried to hide her face from me. I sighed and closed my eyes, blinking back tears as I slowly retreated to the couch.
The next morning when the boys woke Callie didn't even react to their cry. I went about the morning routine, Callie not showing her face once. After dropping Sofia off at school I arrived back home and sat in the car, the boys in the back just taking a moment to myself. I was pulled back to reality when my phone rung.
"Robbins," I said unenthusiastically as I pressed the phone to my ear.
"Hey when are you back to work? I have a patient that is 22 weeks pregnant and baby is already having some serious heart problems," Meredith explained.
"I don't know," I admitted, a soft sigh escaping my lips.
"Karev said Callie isn't doing so well," she said softly, concern present in her voice.
"Not doing so well was last week, doing badly is this week," I informed her. "It's like my lack of presence makes her mad but my presence makes her sad and withdrawn," I tried to explain.
"Can I help at all?" she asked curiously.
I shook my head before verbalising what I was thinking, "No. I just have to keep trying," I said, reminding myself more than anything.
I took the boys inside and settled them both in their bassinets. Charlee had started to enjoy time in his bassinet for short periods of times, especially when we played music in the nursery.
I appeared in the doorway of our bedroom again, my eyes settled on the woman who hadn't showered in three days, had eaten maybe one meal and slept a great part of her day away. "Did you take your medication?" I asked her but again she didn't answer. "Sofia misses you," I said, trying to appeal to the mother in her.
"Tell her to come here then," she grunted in response.
"You need to shower Cal," I said, knowing there was a good chance she would lash out at me.
"Can you just leave me alone?" she begged.
"I'm not leaving you alone Callie," I said seriously, "you're my wife," I reminded her.
"I'm your girlfriend at best," she blurted out, "Just because I wear this stupid ring, it doesn't mean I'm your wife," she said as removed the ring from her hand and tossed it on the ground, not an inch of regret in her voice
I watched the ring land at my feet, I slowly bent down to pick it up. "You don't mean that," I said, the words so quiet that it was almost a reminder to myself. I was defeated for today. I retreated to the lounge and started pottering around doing all the things that Callie would normally do. I had only been the full time parent for four days and I didn't feel the burden of postnatal depression like Callie did and I was already suffering alone. Three children was incredibly hard especially when all three had such different needs. I was finally seeing things from Callie's point of view and I couldn't help but wonder if my lack of help with the children and with the housework had been a big part of why she was spiraling into a deep dark hole.
The next morning came and passed. I dropped Sofia off at school then decided to take the boys to the park, I wasn't brave enough to return home just yet. I had to keep reminding myself that she was my wife, even if she wasn't, and that I loved her more than I loved myself. Callie had given up everything for me, she had carried all three of our children and had stayed home with all three of them in the early stages of their lives, despite her ambition as a fantastic, life changing surgeon. If ever I was in doubt, or if ever Callie said something that made me question everything I reminded myself of that. In sickness and in health, in the good times and the bad, I would be there for her. I had failed her once horribly but this time was going to be different.
When I finally arrived back home, Callie was standing in the kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee, which was the most active she had been in days. "Ooooh look baba's, your Mummy," I said enthusiastically as I carried both boys inside in their carriers.
"How are they?" she asked, not looking up to look at me or the boys.
"They miss their mum," I said softly, placing the boys up onto the kitchen island, their big blue eyes starting at their mother.
Callie took a few seconds before she finally looked up at them, almost like she had to prepare herself for it. I watched her as she looked them both over, her face not changing an inch as she took them in.
"We want to help you," I said quietly, cautious not to spook her.
A tear fell down Callie's face, "I don't know how to stop feeling like this," she admitted as she reached out and took her boys hands. "In my heart I know something is wrong but my head is telling me something different," she cried.
I walked around the island, hoping Callie would let me hold her, "I'm here to help," I said as I opened my arms, Callie reluctantly falling into them, her tears soaking the front of my t-shirt.
"How can you stop me feeling like this?" she asked me, not trusting the words that escaped my mouth.
I shrugged. I didn't quite know the answer to that, "by loving you, by supporting you," I finally said as I kissed the top of her head. "I think we need to take you to be reassessed," I suggested cautiously.
Callie shook her head furiously, "I don't want people to see me like this," she mumbled behind tears.
"I'll bring Dr Abshaw here?" I suggested.
Callie didn't say anything so I took that as a yes. "You need to shower," I said simply. Callie nodded into my body. "Let me put the boys into their bassinets and I'll come help you," I said as I looked down at her hidden face, kissing the side of her head lovingly. She had made the first step, now I'd help her through every other step.
I put the boys into one bassinet, hanging a mobile over their heads in hope that the mixture would keep both boys occupied. I headed to the bedroom where Callie stood frozen, her eyes locked on the new family portrait that hung from our bedroom wall.
"Callie," I said in hope not to startle her. I walked up behind her and I looked at the same picture she stared at.
"How can I be so sad when I should be so happy," she whispered quietly.
"You're sick," I reminded her, "you won't feel like this forever," I promised.
"I don't even want to see the kids, what kind of mother does that make me" she admitted, tears falling down her face.
"You are a fantastic mother," I said to her, turning her face to face me, my hands holding her face on either side so she couldn't look away, "You are the world's best mother, these feelings aren't you, they aren't the Callie I know. You aren't well Callie, you need to give yourself a break," I said sternly, the words reminding me all over again. "Come and shower," I said softly as I took her hand in mine and lead her into the bathroom. I switched on the shower and I looked back at Callie who stood in the bathroom aimlessly, like she had forgotten the concept of showering. "Do you want my help?"
Callie nodded, tears strolling down her cheeks yet again. There had been a moment sometime this morning that had made Callie realise she wasn't right, that she needed help and the only way she was going to get it was if she let me in. Callie raised her arms, I slipped her shirt off like I would with my own daughter before slowly, item by item I undressed her. Callie stepped into the shower, the water flowing over her body as she looked up into the water. I watched her, my want to hold her and protect her growing with every second. She looked helpless and I knew she felt just as helpless.
"Do you want me to go?" I asked her curiously.
Callie shook her head, her eyes not moving from the shower head.
I watched Callie shower for about 10 minutes before finally helping her out of the water and drying her off and slipping her into her robe; which seemed easier than dressing her properly. I slipped her into bed and I watched her curl up into a ball, as if to protect herself from the outside world. I ran my hand over her hair and I kissed her temple, "everything will be okay," I promised her, "I love you," I added before I retreated from the room.
I got on the phone with Dr Abshaw immediately. I informed her that the medication that she had given to Callie had not made her better and in fact, had made her worse.
"She won't leave bed, she doesn't talk to me, she doesn't want to see our children, she isn't eating or showering, she isn't doing well. You need to help or i'll write her a script myself," I warned as I paced back and forward in the lounge.
"No, next week doesn't work for me and it certainly doesn't work for our kids that need to be with their mother," I said, almost angrily.
"Great, tomorrow it is," I said thankfully, "We are at 4 Copper Crescent," I told her before hanging up the phone and letting a soft sigh of relief escape my lips as my eyes flicked closed.
I headed for the laundry room and started on the large buildup of clothes that I had failed to clean over the past few days. Between each load of washing I went into the nursery to spend time with the boys, the two of them enjoying the close proximity of one another. At 2:30 I went into our bedroom, Callie was crying softly into her pillow.
"Cal," I said worryingly as I hurried to her bedside, "Callie," I said as I wiped her tears away, even more tears replacing them, "Whats wrong?" I asked her curiously, with no expectation that she would respond.
Callie shrugged her shoulders and continued crying, not even she knew why she was inconsolable.
I slowly slipped into bed behind her, even if she didn't want me to be near her, I needed to feel like I was helping. I held her against my body, my arms wrapped around her tightly as she cried, each tear falling, breaking my heart all over again. I looked up at the time, I had come in to inform Callie that I was going to pick Sof up but I couldn't bring myself to leave. Callie was finally ready to let me in; I had been waiting for this moment. I kissed Callie's cheek, "I'm just going to get someone to pick up Sof," I said as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I dialed the first number on my favourites, 'MEREDITH GREY'.
"Hey, can you pick Sof up from school when your getting your kids? I'll come round and pick her up as soon as I get a chance," I said quite quickly.
"Kepner is picking up my kids, I'll get her to pick up Sof too," she informed me.
"Thanks, thanks a lot," I said sincerely before hanging up the phone and placing it on the side table and returning my arm around Callie's body.
"I have such horrible thoughts," Callie admitted as tears fell from her eyes.
"Don't listen to them," I said as I held her tighter, as if squeezing the poison from her body, "Listen to me. Trust me," I said, "You are the best mother and the best wife," I assured her.
Callie shook her head furiously, "I am the best mother and the best wife," she mumbled back to herself in attempt to overpower her negative thoughts.
"You are the best mother and the best wife," I repeated back to her.
Callie slowly stopped crying and fell into a deep slumber, her face stained red and the pillow she slept on covered in tears and saliva. I looked over at her before slowly kissing her head and releasing my arms from around her and slipping out of bed. The boys needed changing, dinner needed to be prepared and I had about 4 loads of washing that need folding. I started with the boys. I changed them both, putting them into fresh clothes and rubbing them down with baby oil. I set both the boys up in the lounge with a handful of toys while I started folding the washing. Since I took over as the full time carer of the children Charlee had grown accustomed to lying in his bassinet alone. At first I felt guilty about letting him cry so often while I tended to all the things I had to do but it had proven effective because now Charlee almost seemed happy in his Bassinet.
When I finished the washing, I distributed it around the house, tucking all the kids clothes into their draws and putting mine and Callie's into the washing basket to put away later. I headed for the kitchen and I started cutting up cucumber, tomato, avocado, carrot and cheese. I thought tonight we could have burritos, one of Sofia's favourite meals. Just as I put all the selected vegetables into bowls and covered them there was a knock at the door, I could only assume that was April, dropping Sofia off.
"I owe you," I said as I opened the door on April's face.
"It's no problem at all, you've watched Harriet for me many times," she reminded me.
"Hey sweetheart," I said as I watched Sofia run pass me and head straight to her room. "Hi mama, love you mama, you're so beautiful mama," I imitated. "7 going on 22 that one," I said to Kepner.
"Well my baby girl is an Avery and already stinking of privilege, she literally cries if I try to feed her unbranded yoghurt," Kepner laughed. "Hey how's Callie? I heard she hasn't been feeling well," Kepner said.
Only a select few people knew of Callie's true problems just as Callie had wanted. I didn't want her to be ashamed of how she felt but I wasn't the one that felt the true pressures or burden of postnatal depression so I couldn't at all comment on who should know or who shouldn't.
"She is getting better I think. Sinus infection, you know what they are like," I laughed nervously.
"Oh jesus, do I ever. I had a sinus infection for like a month after Harriet was born," she informed me a smile on her face as she bounced her little girl in her arms. "I should go, Jackson is cooking dinner," she told me. "Tell Callie I say get better," she said kindly before heading out to her car.
Tomorrow came, thank goodness. The day started a little later after my two little angels decided to sleep until 5am. I had thought after mine and Callie's minor breakthrough yesterday that I would have been allowed to return to my bed but Callie had begged me for space so I spent another night on the couch; my back really starting to feel the consequences.
I dropped Sof off at school and returned home to prepare for Dr Abshaw's arrival. I fed the boys pumped breastmilk out of a bottle, both boys a bit dubious about the concept of the bottle. I bathed them and popped them into their individual bassinets before heading into the bedroom to check on Callie.
"Hey, Dr Abshaw should be here shortly," I reminded her.
Callie was propped up in our bed, her knees pulled up to her chin with the blankets flopped over her. I slowly walked over to the bed and I held out my hand. Callie looked at it for a moment before placing her hand in mine. I took her hand and I pressed it to my lips lightly before holding it against my body, "We will get through this, I promise," I said as I raised my hand to push a few strands of hair from Callie's face.
"What if I don't," Callie responded, retracting her hand from mine and tucking it beneath the blanket.
"We will," I said, "we will get through it just like we get through everything else," I said just as the door bell rung.
I leant forward and I kissed her forehead, I felt her pull away slightly but I didn't let it discourage me. She still loved me, I knew that. I stood up and I headed for the door, opening the door to reveal Dr Abshaw. "Hey, thanks for coming," I said politely.
"You own the hospital I work in, didn't have much choice," she said simply as she stepped inside.
"Well either way, I'm grateful," I promised her.
"Is it best if I join you or is this something she needs to do alone?" I asked.
"It's up to the patient," Dr Abshaw admitted.
CALLIE'S POINT OF VIEW
I felt footsteps trucking down the hallway, each step getting louder and louder as Arizona walked the hallway. Arizona appeared in the doorway, the familiar face of my doctor tucked in behind her. Dr Abshaw was a OBGYN with specialities in postnatal depression and multiple births such as ours; who knew I would need any of her services, let alone both.
"Would you like me to stay?" Arizona asked me, her voice calm and soft but not at all soothing to my ears.
I shook my head which I could see caused Arizona pain but I didn't care. Nothing in me cared. I imagined this is what death row patients felt like leading up to their demise.
"I'll leave you two alone," Arizona murmured as she gave Dr Abshaw a forced smile before leaving the room and closing the door behind us.
"Dr Torres," Dr Abshaw said in her typical enthusiastic tone.
I didn't respond. I wanted to tell her not to refer to me as a doctor, that I wasn't fit to be called doctor but I couldn't find the breath, the energy or the will to speak.
"Can I run a few quick tests? Blood pressure, blood sugar, heart rate excetera," she babbled off as she propped her medicine bag up on my set of draws and opened it up.
I didn't nod in response, I just held my arm out. Dr Abshaw approached me cautiously, like I'd bite her anytime, or in this case blurt out something suicidal that would make her job 10 times harder. "Arizona tells me you've been having a hard time," she said as she started wrapping my arm with a blood pressure device and started pumping, her ears listening through a stethoscope with every breath.
"Heart rate is normal, that's good," she said before pulling out a small device that would check my blood sugar levels. "I bet Arizona returning to work so suddenly gave you a bit of a fright," she said in attempt to spark conversation as she pricked my finger, allowing blood to be drawn so she could test the blood through the device. Dr Abshaw looked at the small screen on the device before wiping it down and putting it back in her bag. "Bit low, when was the last time you ate?" she asked me curiously.
"Maybe yesterday," I mumbled.
"What did you have?" she asked.
"Arizona made me a smoothie," I informed her.
"Callie… if you had to describe to me how you're feeling, what would you say?" Dr Abshaw questioned, my eyes falling into my lap as I thought.
"Numb," I admitted, "sad," she added. "Angry, lonely," she continued to say with large pauses in between for thought.
"Are those towards yourself or to somebody else?" she questioned calmly, her eyes searching mine for answers.
"Both," I admitted. "Arizona makes me angry but then seeing her also makes me sad. I know she is trying but I can't help but want her to leave," I explained honestly.
"That's not uncommon Callie," she assured me.
"I told her to go back to work, then when she did I yelled at her and I yelled at her and I yelled at her until I eventually kicked her out. I made her sleep on the couch for the past 7 days because I can't stand her," I admitted as a tear fell from my eye which I quickly swiped away. "All she wants is the best for me and I'm letting her in because I'm scared for my children but being near her is making me anxious. Being near my children scares me. I don't want them to see me like this," I added, my voice low.
"Callie," Dr Abshaw said as she reached out to grab my hand. "I think you are having quite an extreme, delayed onset of postnatal depression. The medication we have given is working but not the way we would have liked. It may be the case that the medication made you feel what you needed to feel. You were too busy being a mother and a wife to let yourself feel what you needed to and now the medication is working overtime," she said simply. "How would you feel about spending some time away from the house? We can get a nice room, not at the hospital and we can give you someone to talk to, we will consider a hormone treatment and your children can visit you all you want," she said.
"What about Arizona?" I mumbled.
"Arizona wants what is best for you, she will understand," Dr Abshaw said, her voice so full of promise, acceptance and assurance that I couldn't help but nod. I knew I wasn't healthy, I knew I needed help and I knew I wasn't going to get it here.
I listened as I heard Dr Abshaw update Arizona, giving her all the privileges of a wife without the legal bind.
"Callie has spiralled, we do believe the medication she has been taking has made it worse but I think she is struggling being here. Callie can't relax without feeling guilty for not being there for her children," Dr Abshaw told Arizona.
"What about the boys, they are still on breastmilk, they are only 10 weeks old," Arizona reminded the doctor.
"Callie will start out pumping and if and when she feels comfortable maybe she will feel like breastfeeding them again," she said so matter of factly.
"Well can we visit? My girl is going to want to visit," Arizona said, her voice starting to show signs of panic.
"Sofia can… but you can't," she said simply. "Keep in mind that Callie is extremely vulnerable right now and not all her thoughts and feelings are her own…"
"Just tell me," Arizona insisted, cutting the good doctor off from her rant that was meant to make her feel better.
"Callie is getting extreme anxiety being around you, she has conflicted feelings towards you. Part of her feels mad while the other part of her looks at you and feels only sadness. She…" The doctor trailed off Arizona's soft sobs filling the house.
I felt sadness for Arizona but it wasn't the typical kind of sadness. It was like I was watching a woman get dumped at the restaurant and I was the next table over. I felt no connection to the sadness she felt.
I was transported to a private ward a block from Grey, Sloan memorial hospital only 15 minutes after the doctor left my room. As soon as I was loaded into the ambulance I felt a sense of security and tension ease, it was like leaving my family was the break I needed.