Hi everyone! Here is the next chapter – I'm not as confident about this one as I have been of others in the past. It has a lot of medical terminology and even though I've done the research, I'm not sure it sounds realistic or right in the story. You'll have to let me know what you all think so that I can prefect it for the future. Here goes : - )
Chapter 17 The Secrets of Parents
"The joys of parents are secret, and so are their grieves and fears."
-- Sir Francis Bacon
Grissom stood silently in the hallway outside Hannah's room, listening to the little girl's soft cries die down and then start up again only seconds later, full of fright and anxiety. Shaking his head in despair, he crept silently back to his own bedroom, opening the door to find Sara dressed in a purple satin nightgown, sitting at the window and staring absently out into the chilled Nevada night. "She's still awake," he said quietly as he entered. Sara didn't respond so he crossed the room to her and put his arms around her slim form.
"This can't be normal."
"Not for a normal four year old, no. But Hannah's been through so much in her short life. There's nothing abnormal about her fears."
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'd like to hear that from a professional. This has been going on for a while. Ever since that first visit to Dr. DeMaurier. There are days where she won't let me out of her sight. And she's been eating and sleeping less. She always seems to have an upset stomach. It just doesn't feel right."
"We'll call Dr. DeMaurier in the morning. I'm sure she'll be able to help."
"What if it doesn't get better?"
"It will," he promised. Leading her to the bed, he tucked her gently under the covers. They were both still wide-awake about an hour later when a soft knocking started at the bedroom door. Before they could react, the door opened slowly and a tiny figure appeared at the foot of their bed.
"Can I sleep with you?"
"Sweetie, it's late. You shouldn't be out of bed," Sara said, her tired voice still full of love and compassion, despite her screaming headache and complete exhaustion.
"I'm not tired," the little girl said with a yawn that gave away her lie.
"I think you might be at least a little tired," Grissom suggested, taking the situation from Sara. He knew that he usually left her to deal with Hannah in the patient, constant, and sensitive way that Sara did. It also occurred to him that Sara was burning herself out more than she ever had at work; raising a child involved far more emotion than any case that have ever been dealt. So, realizing the exhaustion of his fiancé, he took over for the moment and was faced with the frightening little girl.
"Why don't you climb up here," he said, defeated, after looking into her pleading and tearful blue eyes. "But only for tonight, okay?"
"Okay," Hannah whispered. She crawled up onto the large bed, Griss in her arms, and snuggled between Sara and Grissom. "Are you mad?" She posed the question to Sara because she fully realized that she shouldn't have gotten out of bed after Sara had tucked her in for the second time.
"No, baby. I'm not angry with you," Sara promised before pulling her arms around the little girl. "I love you so much, do you know that?" Hannah nodded slightly as she snuggled closer to Sara. Grissom settled himself on the other side of the little girl and turned the lights out. About ten minutes later, Sara could sense that the tiny child was still not even attempting to sleep.
"Close your eyes," she whispered to Hannah after beginning to gently rub the little girl's back in smooth, calming circles. Eventually Hannah fell off to sleep and Sara was surprisingly not far behind her. Grissom continued to lie awake, listening to his loves sleep and offering protection over their slumber.
"I hope we're not overreacting," Sara said the next morning as she dangled a tiny pair of silver hoops from her ears.
"Just think back to last night. We're doing the right thing. The only thing we can do," Grissom answered gruffly as he sat on the end of the bed pulling on a pair of his good shoes. They had to leave in ten minutes for Hannah's doctor's appointment. After the tantrum and insomnia from the night before and previous spells fresh in their minds, they were finally worried enough to contact the doctor.
As soon as Sara had gotten on the phone with Dr. DeMaurier's nurse, the woman had told her to bring the child in at eleven, their first open spot for the day. The episodes that Sara described to the nurse must have been alarming because the doctor actually came on the telephone herself and asked Sara to explain her concerns one more time.
Now they were anxiously waiting for the time of the appointment to come. Hannah, dressed in a navy dress, white sweater, a pair of white lace socks, and a shiny new pair of patent leather Mary Janes, was waiting glumly in the living room. She was making her unhappiness well known; she had no desire to cooperate and go to the appointment.
Brushing the imaginary imperfections from her olive-colored dress one more time, Sara finally picked up her off-white cardigan and stepped out of the bedroom. The ride out of the city and toward Dr. DeMaurier's office was a fairly silent one; no one was composed enough to attempt small talk. Sara was relieved when they weren't even asked to wait; Dr. DeMaurier was ready for them as soon as they arrived. Surprisingly, the kindly psychologist was not alone. When they entered her bright office, they found her having a cup of tea with Dr. Jo, Hannah's pediatrician.
"Good morning Hannah! Sara, Gil," Dr. DeMaurier greeted them each warmly as they filed into the large and open room. "Please, come and join us. Would any of you like something other than tea?" They all declined, but did move to sit on one of the plush sofas.
"Hannah, I hope you don't mind, but Dr. Jo and I thought we might both talk to you today. Is that alright?" Hannah nodded slowly, not sure at all if there was some sort of trick that went along with the doctor's seemingly harmless request. Although she seemed to like Dr. Jo, she seemed a bit distrustful of Dr. DeMaurier, probably because she had suffered traumatic flashbacks during her last visit.
"Do you know why you're here today?" Hannah shook her head, scooting closer to Sara on the sofa. The doctor was sitting across from them, her hands classed loosely in front of her and a friendly expression never leaving her face.
"Well, I'm going to be honest with you, Hannah. Because I think you're old enough to hear this. Sara and Gil are worried about you. Do you know why?" Again, the child shook her head, attempting not to look very interested.
"Have you been sleeping well?" Hannah again shook her head slowly. "Why do you think you've been having trouble?" Hannah shrugged her shoulders the tiniest bit and continued to creep closer to Sara, burrowing herself between the woman and the sofa. "Hannah, would it be easier to talk alone?' The little girl again refused to respond but the doctor continued to smile, showing no frustration.
Dr. Jo stood up and signaled for Sara and Gil to follow her, intending to leave Hannah alone with Dr. DeMaurier. Hannah latched onto Sara when the latter attempted to stand.
"I'll be right back," Sara promised the little girl, but it was to no avail. Reasoning with Hannah did not seem to work, even after every one of them attempted it for the next few minutes. Without warning, Dr. DeMaurier approached the sofa from behind and firmly grasped the little girl, pulling her into a clinch that didn't allow any escape. Hannah screamed and sobbed as Sara and Gil were led out of the room, not stopping even when the door was closed and she could no longer see them.
"She'll be fine in a moment," Dr. Jo attempted to reassure them, as they stood in the hallway, still able to hear the child's cries.
Sara was frozen, standing and listening in horror as Hannah called for her. She attempted to maintain her calm, but it was becoming more difficult with every one of the little girl's cries. Grissom attempted to distract her by leading her down the hall a bit and engaging the pediatrician in conversation. His own true concern lay in her presence.
"Should we be worried? Why exactly are you here?" Grissom wasn't attempting to sound callous, but his worry was causing him to be a bit short with the woman. He stood at attention in the hallway, as though he was just dying to start solving things. That's what he did for a living – address the problem and find the solution. In the back of his mind, he knew this was not going to be quite as methodical as finding a serial killer or locating a kidnapped child.
"Dr. DeMaurier called me after she spoke to Sara this morning. Hannah's symptoms are congruent with several extremely serious disorders. I don't want to alarm you—"
"Too late," Sara interrupted, her tone flat.
"—but while this could be normal stress, it may also be the manifestation of a serious psychological or even physiological disorder."
"How serious are we talking?" Grissom asked the question as his hand snaked around Sara, laying a comforting hand on the small of her back.
"Hopefully, we're looking at post traumatic stress syndrome. We know how to treat it and it's not uncommon for a child who has been under the kind of conditions Hannah has seen. There is a slight possibility of a panic disorder. Right now, simply from what I've been told and what we just witnessed, I believe the most likely possibility is an early onset of separation anxiety disorder. It occurs in children who become unhealthily dependent on one or more adults in their lives. The medical world calls the adults "major attachment figures". We really won't know more until we've had a chance to speak with Hannah and observe her, but I promise you that we're going to find a way to help."
Sara was no longer listening, but instead anxiously staring at the door they had just exited. Dr. Jo sensed her sudden increase in nervousness and motioned for them to follow her into the next room. Again, they found themselves in a comfortable observation room, being offered beverages and plush chairs in which to sit and watch. Sara sat uncomfortably on the edge of one sofa, relaxing only slightly as Grissom sat down next to her and took her hands in his. After about five minutes, Dr. DeMaurier had Hannah calmed down to the point where they could hold a conversation.
"Hannah, are you listening to me?"
"I want to go home."
"I know. And you will. Soon. But first we need to know what's bothering you."
"I want Sara and Gil."
"Hannah, you're a big girl. You've been without them before. What's different now?" The session continued for about twenty minutes. The little girl did reveal that her most pressing fear was that something was going to happen to take Gil and Sara away from her. She also seemed slightly concerned, possibly unconsciously, that she was going to lose Gil and Sara by way of them simply leaving. Although Hannah gave up very little additional information, Dr. DeMaurier seemed satisfied that she understood at least a part of what was happening.
"I think we're done for today. Let's go find Gil and Sara." Hannah raced to the door ahead of the doctor, not willing to wait before finding the two. They had stepped out into the hallway when they realized that Dr. DeMaurier was finishing and so they were there to greet the relieved child. Hannah flew into Sara's arms and after hugging her motioned for Grissom to pick her up. He did so, and she immediately buried her face in his chest; she was done being polite and social for the day.
"Hannah, I need to speak to Sara and Gil for a moment. We're going to go back into my office. You can come as well, but you need to stay across the room with Dr. Jo. Alright?" The little girl nodded against Grissom's chest, content in knowing that she would at least be able to see her pseudo parents. Medical bag discretely in hand, Dr. Jo took Hannah to one side of the room where she had already informed Sara and Gil that she wanted to perform a quick check-up.
"I'm making a temporary diagnosis of Early Onset Separation Anxiety Disorder," Dr. DeMaurier said as soon as they were out of hearing range from the child. "It sounds a lot scarier than it is," the woman said with a calming smile. "From what you've told me about the nightmares, occasional nausea, following you everywhere, and from what I've gotten from my talk with Hannah, I have no doubt that she's suffering from SAD."
"What can we do?"
"There are several choices that you need to consider. Hannah is extremely young for this option, but there is always the choice of medication—"
"No," Sara said quickly, looking at Grissom for support. He shook his head slowly, obviously agreeing with her.
"There is the option of temporarily giving her anti-anxiety medication until other forms of therapy begin to pay off. But that is certainly your decisions. Another choice would be to begin regular therapy sessions. Two, possibly three times a week. We'll work on play therapy, cognitive therapy, and relaxation techniques. It's quite possible that Hannah just simply does not know how to calm herself down when she's frightened. Also, family therapy sessions are always helpful. Including family friends and babysitters might also be beneficial. And we'll work on gradual steps of separation and hopefully get to the point where she'll be as happy as any other child when mom and dad go out for the day."
"Where do we start?" Sara asked the question a bit hollowly and the doctor could see that she was, understandably, overwhelmed.
"By taking a deep breath," the doctor answered kindly, placing a hand reassuringly on Sara's arm. "Hannah takes her cues from you two. And Sara, I can see that you're naturally an anxious person. It's important to remain calm when Hannah has a panic attack or anxiety spell. Not that you're the problem," she said quickly after seeing Sara's expression of sadness, "I'm not suggesting that at all. But Hannah will learn to deal with things in the way you deal with them – so be mindful of that. We'll start therapy sessions on Monday. Until then," she said, reaching over to her desk for a pad of paper and a pen,
"I'm writing a script for a few low-dose sedatives. You don't have to use them, but you'll have them just in case. If Hannah does become extremely anxious or is unable to recover from a panic attack, you'll have them. They'll dissolve in a few ounces of juice – the pharmacist will tell you about other options for administering them. What questions do you have for me?"
"Is this something she's going to be able to get over?"
"Dr. Grissom, with parents like you two, I believe that Hannah will not only 'get over' this road block, but she'll soar," Dr. DeMaurier said with an encouraging smile, "I have no doubt in my mind that this is only a temporary setback to her emotional development. If you have any problems tonight or tomorrow, please call me." She handed Sara a business card that help both her home phone number and her cell phone. "I'll see all three of you on Monday?"
"Yes," Sara said while Grissom nodded. They crossed the room and took hold of Hannah, who was to the point of angry at being kept there for so long. Once inside the car, she put up the same fuss about being near them and so Sara once again was forced to sit in the middle seat, her early childhood years of motion sickness coming clearly to the forefront of her mind. Upon reaching home, Grissom turned around and realized that both Sara and Hannah were sound asleep, one to avoid sickness and the other to avoid any more discussion of her fears.
Thanks to : Adenara Yatman, Faith Kingsley, forensicsgirl, ToMyGrave, Ambient Flames, Ambient Flames, JenB, Ashlei, Almeida's-Angel24, jtbwriter, csi-ds9, ladybug07, Lizzy Sidle, SpectraLady, csibugman, and I appreciate your thoughts and reviews so much! Especially those of you who have been reading all along and letting me know you're there – you inspire me to continue! Thanks again to everyone.
Geeky Annie -- Of course there's nothing wrong with you if you slept in your parents' bed when you were little! Or at least I hope not, because I did the same thing for years when I was afraid of the dark or thunderstorms. But I did read somewhere about the psychological complications (but I chalked it up to a bunch of psycho-babble or bologna). But I thought it was something Sara would remember if she read it in a scienc-y journal. Thanks again for reading; I'm glad you're enjoying it.
Veronica --I know the feeling of being responsible for siblings (and cousins, and neighbors, and stray kids who walk in off the street at lunch time … kidding on that last one) – most of my life has been spent babysitting in some capacity – your siblings with learn to deal; there are some things that are just more a priority than making lunches – but I do hope you got their lunches packed okay (for your sake and theirs) – but I'm glad you got to read the story and that you're enjoying it!