by ruth pettis

Isolated
Instances

Doctor Cahill's voice on my answering machine sounds upbeat and professional. She recites my pap and hemocult results, then becomes hesitant: "And about that, ah, other matter--better call me in the morning."

I smile. How human of her to get halfway through and have second thoughts. It was probably Marney's voice on the tape that unhinged her. (I had told her that I live alone now.) Lab results are one thing. She wasn't about to tell a third party about my, ah, other matter.

Friends are good about calling. Bummer about Marney, they sympathize. "If you feel like talking about it...." I tell them I'm okay.

Dr. Cahill prescribes Prozac. "We'll start you on a low dosage, to be sure you can tolerate it, and increase it gradually." She describes the side effects, then says, "You probably won't notice any change in your moods at first. It may take a couple of weeks once we get the dosage up. But most patients report their emotional outlook much improved after a month or so."

The insomnia is bothersome but decreases after a week. I do deep breathing exercises whenever my mind starts racing. Both symptoms cheer me up though, since I assume it means the stuff is working.

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