Chapter eight
Peter left the bedroom once Day was completely calm. Joining the other two guys over by the couch, Peter began telling them about everything that happened with Davy. He said how Davy asked for time alone to think about everything that was said to him. It was clear that Davy needed this time to sort things out and figure out where to go from there. As Peter told them about this they listened quietly. They realized nothing more needed to be said about the situation. All they could do was wait on Davy.
The doorknob to the bedroom door turned, drawing all eyes to it. Davy slowly stepped out of the room, keeping a somber head down as he walked. All eyes remained on him as he joined them by the couch. Davy cleared his throat and fidgeted in his spot. The eyes on him made him more uncomfortable and gave him a harder time in preparing to talk to them.
"Erm…" His eyes were glued to the floor as he hesitated. "I'd, um, like to thank you fellas for, um, being here for me through all this. I appreciate it so much. I appreciate how much you guys really care about me. And I realize now how much you fellas really do care about me, and how much you've been trying to help me despite the fact that you didn't really know how to help."
He sighed and was quiet for a moment. "I-I um… I'm also realizing more and more how much help I actually need. And um… I want you guys to know that I'm going to get that help. I'm going to see a doctor as soon as I can and hopefully he can recommend something I can do, therapy, medication, whatever I need. I'm really going to try."
"Davy," Peter placed a hand on Davy's shoulder, getting him to look up finally. "This is great news. It took a lot for you to say all this, we all can tell.
Davy looked at him, tears forming in his eyes. "I'm not going to lie, I'm really scared about this. But I know I have to do this. I have to get better."
"Good." Mike stepped closer. "It's really good you're doing this. We can't say this enough, but we are all here for you. Whatever you need from us, we will be here."
Davy nodded and looked at them. His tears were beginning to fall. "Thank you. Fellas, you have no idea how much this means to me. I really need you all…" he sniffed. Micky handed him a handkerchief. "Thanks Micky." Davy whispered before dabbing his cheeks onto the handkerchief. "I've put you all through so much shit and for so long. I know I couldn't really function without crying… or eating… My God you have to hate me for eating all the food up all the time. I have no idea how you even put up with me for so long."
"Davy please, you're our friend." Micky said "We wouldn't have done this if we didn't care about you."
"I know." Davy whispered. He sniffed. "I suppose now I should give the doctor a call and make an appointment."
A few days later Davy sat in the doctor's examining room. Stripped to his underwear and undershirt, Davy grunted through his difficulty in lifting his weight onto the exam table. Once seated he let out a heavy sigh, thankful that nobody else was in the room to see him during his struggle. He was also thankful that there wasn't a mirror anywhere in the room because this was a moment where he least wanted to see how he looked.
Davy fidgeted a little in his seat. He looked down at himself and attempted to tug his shirt over the exposed part of his stomach. He tugged at it a couple times before managing to cover his stomach, but the shirt came back up. Cringing, he then closed his eyes from the embarrassment. Even though he was alone, he had never felt more uncomfortable or more ashamed of himself than he did in this moment. He couldn't stand himself. And he felt that this was only the bad start to a day that would get much worse.
By the time the doctor entered the room, Davy coiled back, desperate to hide. The uncomfortable pleasantries exchanged between he and the doctor made him want to leave even more. But he knew he had to put up with all of this in order to get through the appointment. All he wanted was to find out what help he needed and then he could go home.
The doctor began asking him questions while going through a basic examination. Davy answered the best that he could while trying to act like he wasn't growing more uncomfortable by the minute. Looking quite serious and stern, the doctor pointed out Davy's weight and said how much of a concern it was. This made Davy want to scream. The last thing he wanted on his mind was how much weight he had gained. He watched as the doctor looked over his medical chart.
"David tell me how much you weigh."
Stunned, Davy stammered before taking a deep breath. "I don't know. I hadn't paid attention when the nurse weighed me." He closed his eyes and mentally told himself he wasn't going to cry. "Honestly, I didn't want to know I asked her not to tell me."
"Why is that, David?"
"Because I can't stand that I've gained so much weight. I hate what I've become. It's been so long since I've last weighed myself and I know I've gained quite a bit since then." He reminded himself he wasn't going to cry, but it was harder to believe it.
"Mmmhmm… When's the last time you weighed yourself?"
"I-I don't know." Davy said, desperate to get away from the topic. "The last time I did I had a really bad breakdown. So I've been avoiding the scale and mirrors at all costs."
"I'm going to have you weigh yourself. I feel as though you need to face this and see how serious this is."
Davy's eyes widened. He felt panic rise inside of him. His panic told him to protest the doctor's request, but his body refused to go along with it. The next thing he knew, he was off the exam table and had walked over to the scale. After stepping onto the scale, he cringed as the doctor slid the weights into place. Shock overwhelmed him when he saw the large number in front of him. He absolutely couldn't believe what he saw: 300 pounds. Shaking, he quickly stepped off the scale. He protested, trying hard to deny what he saw. He swore and choked on forming tears, claiming that the scale had to be gravely wrong. His hands covered his ears and his eyes closed tight when the doctor assured him that the scale was correct.
Davy wanted to get back on the exam table but didn't want the embarrassment of his struggle to climb back up to make him feel worse than he already did. In a scramble he gathered his clothes, preparing to dash out of the room. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle hearing another word the doctor had to say to him, especially about his weight. Tears burned in his eyes and he fumbled with his clothes, dropping them. He knew the doctor was talking to him, trying to get him to calm down, but he couldn't let himself pay attention to any of it. His emotions were running far too high for him to pay attention to anything else. He wanted to hide but there was no way out of this moment. He was trapped.
"David I'm going to put you on a strict diet and exercise program that I'm really urging you to follow immediately. You really need to take this weight off you."
Hearing this enraged Davy. His eyes flew open and were filled with fury towards the doctor. "I don't need a bloody diet! Fuck you!" he shouted, scrambling to dress himself, despite his tear-blurred vision. "I don't need a bloody diet and I don't need to fucking exercise! I know all this weight is bad on me. I hate it."
He groaned as he struggled to pull up his pants. "I need… doctor please I came here for help. A different kind of help. I've been suffering from this fucking depression for way too long. I can't take it anymore." He covered his face and began to sob. "I need help. How do I get out of this?" he whimpered through his falling tears.
It took a little bit but the doctor was able to get Davy to calm down. He also had coaxed Davy back onto the exam table to sit while they talked. Most of the time the doctor listened as Davy spoke about his depression. He also asked questions and wrote down some things into Davy's medical chart. Once he had enough information, he looked up at Davy while tapping his pen against the folder.
"David I'm going to recommend a therapist." He gathered what appeared to be a prescription pad and began to scribble on it. "He is a very good doctor and specializes in patients dealing with depression." He ripped off a slip from the pad and handed it to Davy. "That's his number. Give him a call whenever you're ready and set up an appointment. I really recommend that you get in as soon as possible. Don't wait on this."
Davy looked at the paper in his hand. "A therapist. You think this will be good for me? I wouldn't need any medication or anything?"
"You might need it. That's his call. He'll decide what, if anything, you should take, should you go see him. And I really urge you to see him."
Davy nodded, not looking up. "Thank you. I'll be sure to give him a call." He put the paper into the pocket of his pants.
When Davy returned home he walked straight past the other guys and over to the couch. With a heavy sigh, he plopped down, sinking immediately into his own weight. For a moment he sat there, staring off into space, but the thoughts that surrounded him were all of the serious nature and it showed in his expressions. This brought the other three guys over to the couch, full of concern and curiosity over what might be on his mind.
It didn't take much to bring Davy out of his thoughts. They asked him about what happened during his doctor's appointment and at first it seemed like he wasn't going to want to talk about it. He tensed up and drew in his lips, holding them together tightly. Then he took in a slow breath of air and allowed himself to relax. He looked at them and told them everything up until he broke down in front of the doctor.
"I tell ya, I never was more pissed when he suggested that I go on a diet. Don't get me wrong, I know I need to lose this weight. Any other time I would have welcomed his recommended diet. But that's not what I went in for."
"Honestly, Davy, I don't think any of us blame you for how you reacted." Micky said
"Don't let that bother you, Davy." Mike added "But what did the doctor do once you had that reaction?"
"He um…" Davy adjusted his position as he reached into his pocket. "Well he just let me talk about my depression and everything and then he recommended I see a therapist." He pulled out the phone number. "Said I should call and set up an appointment."
Peter nodded and placed a hand on Davy's shoulder. "That's really good, Davy. Looks like you'll be able to get the help that you need after all."
"I know. I hope it helps." Davy sighed. He was quiet for a moment before he cringed in disgust as he looked at himself. "But my God I can't believe I'm actually 300 pounds." He placed his hands on his stomach, grabbing at it a little. "How could I get so fat?" he groaned.
"Davy don't worry. You're going to lose that weight." Said Peter, reassuringly. "But right now you should call that therapist."
Davy nodded, though still frowning a little. "I know." He grunted as he pushed himself up into standing position. "Fellas I'd like to be alone while I make this call."
The other three let Davy have the space he needed without any thought to it. They each gave him encouraging words before leaving him be. Davy looked at the paper in his hand and then walked to where the phone was. He stopped before the phone and hesitated for just a moment before picking it up. After briefly checking the length of the chord, he carried the phone into the bedroom and closed the door.