OK, so I have been switching POV's…I hope it is not too confusing. Also, thanks for the people who take time to review! You all rock!
"Where am I?" I mumbled as a searing pain went through my head, as the bright sunlight rudely shined into my eyes. "Mom?" I asked tentatively to the blurry figure beside my bedside.
She lifted her head and looked at me speechless for a second, as the image finally came into focus for me; I saw her go through a look of sadness to happiness to anger in a matter of about five seconds. "How could you, Adam? How could you put me through this after everything that has happened? How could you be so selfish?"
"ME?" I yelled, but my outburst caused a sharp pain to surge through my entire body. I paused and shut my eyes as the pain subsided, when I opened them again I saw Dan grab my mother by the hands and force her to calm down, telling her she should go have some coffee and cool off. She agreed and walked out of the door without meeting my glance, as I looked at Dan gratefully for the first time since I had met him.
"I should go get Dr Larson, let him know that you are awake," Dan said calmly, as he made his way out of my room. I nodded in reply and laid my head back down on the pillow. "Why me?" I thought to myself, "why me?"
I must have fallen back asleep because I woke up to the bustle of Dr. Larson and a middle-aged nurse who had come into my room. She took my temperature, pulse, and blood pressure, and put a few notes on my chart, while Dr. Larson was looking through his papers on a clipboard. After the nurse left and shut the door, he pulled up a chair to my bedside.
"Adam, it says in here that you suffered a concussion previously, is this correct?"
"Yea, it happened during a hockey game, I got tripped up and went directly into the post head first."
"I see, Adam, if you would hold on a moment I would like to call for Dr. Lara Nolan, our on staff psychiatrist."
A few long minutes later, Dr. Larson walled back into the room followed by a young woman with short black hair, and a pleasant face. I suddenly felt the butterflies in my stomach go away, as Dr, Larson introduced her to me, and she smiled. Dr. Nolan seemed to have a calming effect.
I vaguely listened as Dr. Larson shared a few more notes and discussed my situation. I shifted uncomfortably in bed, trying not to look at my bandaged arms; I had never felt so ashamed in my life.
"Adam, there have been studies done showing that people, especially athletes, who experience severe head trauma, as you did several years ago will be more likely to develop depression as time goes on. Also, considering what has happened to you recently that can make it come on much easier" Dr. Nolan started to explain to me as placidly as possible. "It is most likely, your father's death was the number one trigger, and the doctor's found scars from other self-inflicted cuts. Then there was the injury, and fights with your mother."
"Adam, you should have sought help when you first started to feel the onset of depression" Dr. Larson put in.
"But, how was I supposed to know--?" I started too asked, quietly.
"It's alright, the point is we are going to try and get you help now, Dr. Larson, why don't you finish up with your patient and leave me to further our discussion?"
He nodded, "Adam, I should tell you about your injuries, to be honest, you were very lucky you weren't injured further. Like I told your mother, the most serious injury is the concussion. Other than that it's only bumps and bruises, and luckily you broke your leg in the exact same spot again, but it may require surgery later to remove some scar tissue that is going to build up."
I nodded; afraid I was going to be sick. There was so much happening at once, and for the first time, I was starting to acknowledge the fear that I felt; the fear for my own life.
Dr. Nolan patiently waited for Dr. Larson to leave. She then started simply with the obligatory paperwork and I answered questions about my health, background, and other information that hardly seemed pertinent to the current situation.
"Adam, now do you think you can tell me a little about how you have been feeling over the past few weeks and even before your father's death? You don't have to talk about everything now, mind you, I just need to understand what as been going on."
I took a deep breath unsure where to start. I wanted to tell her about all the pressure, playing hockey, always being tired and hurt, being caught in the crossfire of my parent's arguments, the death, my mother's sudden remarriage, the prospect of moving…I wanted to tell her all of that, but the thoughts just swam about in my head. Tears were starting to form in my eyes and embarrassed I tried to wipe them away.
"It's OK to cry, Adam. I'd be more worried if you didn't." She gave me a smile and handed me a Kleenex. "We can start this tomorrow if you wish, but for now, just try to get some rest. Sort out your thoughts. I'll see you same time."
I watched her leave my room and suddenly I felt incredibly alone. Not just because nobody else was in my room, but also because I really was alone in more ways then I had ever realized.