Fixing My Destiny - 2. Chapter 2 - The Unlikely Appointment

The drive to the doctor’s office was uneventful, not like Jack wanted it to be full of close-calls. It was mid-morning after the rush of traffic as he drove, the fog seemingly rolled by his windshield as the morning chill in San Francisco continued to make even daylight seem ominous. Looking for a parking spot, reminded him he should have just taken the bus instead, but he knew he didn’t need to be on public transportation again after what happened on the street car earlier.

His mind flashed at how his head hurt sometimes, after the incident, and he thought it was a good time to go to the doctor's to get himself checked out again, if not today, he had to come afterwards, anyways.

The doctor's office was a converted residential home that was separated into several large rooms. The dining room was converted into an office, the living room was the waiting area and the bedrooms were the patient rooms. The downstairs’ garage was turned into a mini-pharmacy. It wasn't exactly professional, but the doctor said that the converted space made the family practice a bit more homey, something that calmed most people, but Jack felt creeped out every single time he would make imagine how many kids, adults and seniors would have to endure getting shots and pricked in the metaphoric ‘bedrooms’. A chill shot through Jack's spine as he thought about what he'd do, if every time he tried to sleep he'd end up getting a shot.

He shook that disturbing thought out of his head as he opened the door to the receptionist's office asking if he could wait for a walk-in visit. He knew at 9:45am he was still early enough to pull something like that off, as the doc generally cut off penciling in walk-in patients after 10 or 10:15am in the morning; depending on the doc's mood that day. He mentioned he was back on his dad's old insurance plan, something that the receptionist was a bit skeptical about, so she took about 20 minutes to confirm with the insurance company to make sure he had coverage before he was allowed to even go in. Once that was settled, the co-pay was another hefty amount that Jack raised his eyebrows at, as his wallet thinned considerably.

He ended up waiting till 12:30pm before he was seen by the good doctor. While he was getting restless, he knew the others had made appointments days or weeks in advance, so even being able to see the doctor at all on the same day was already a blessing. Jack straightened himself unknowingly, as his cool exterior wall he's gotten so used to, practically did the work without much thought.

He walked into the patients’ room and sat on one of those patient beds that was way too worn from decades of use and obviously the nurse did not change the paper that covered the bed since the last patient. Jack didn't mind, he wasn't exactly expecting to undress or anything anyways. Being the neat freak he was, he'd probably end up tossing his clothes into the wash as soon as he got home and then showered.

Dr. L walked in with his usual smile he gave all his patients. It was a sincere smile most of the time, like he truly enjoyed his work, even as he approached retirement age. Underneath the standard white coat, Dr. L was wearing a bright red tie with a soothing light tan shirt that made his face look like he'd been tanning or at least enjoying the sun. Jack stood and shook the doctor's hand and sat back on the bed.

"So Jack, what brings you here today?" The doctor asked as he flipped through Jack's medical history, as well as the pages of newly faxed information, from his hospital visit not too long ago. He frowned at the discovery as he scanned through the reports. "So you fell asleep on a street car and you flew 15 feet from your seat when it braked to stop at a station, hit your head on the pole and suffered a minor concussion? What the hell were you dreaming about?"

Jack was stunned as he realized the improbable trajectory his body must have taken to have been to be able to maneuver in such a way to have inflicted that sort of injury. He'd label as a freak accident, but he needed to talk to the doctor about the whole ‘not being able to breathe’ thing. He pushed the excuses out of his head and directly addressed the problem. "Doctor, I'm not breathing when I sleep. I have no idea how I fell or flew, but I know for a fact that I'm not breathing when I sleep and it's scaring the hell out of me. I just got back from the hospital and when I took a nap I woke up bluish purple like my body was suffocating. I can't go back to bed without feeling like one of these times I'm going to shut down completely and not wake up."

The surprised look on the doctor's face was apparent. He didn't think that with Jack's permanently calm expression he's always seen him with, he would be this honest or so frank about a problem. He took no liberties as he ran down a list of symptoms with Jack, and then asked, “When did you realize you even had a problem with this? Have you ever stopped breathing like this before the incident on Muni?”

Jack knew he's never experienced this before, so his shrug told the doctor what he needed to know. "Alright Jack, have you been experiencing a lot of stress, nightmares or that sort of thing, where you experienced something potentially traumatic?" The doctor's expression was serious enough to show Jack he wasn't kidding around.

Jack responded, "I haven't been sleeping much, but that's been happening since I got back to California after college really. In terms of nightmares, I just know that I can't really sleep for more than a couple hours before I shoot up from the bed. Eventually by the time I need to wake up in the morning I'm so exhausted I don't want to move, except, I can never really remember what I was dreaming about."

"Well Jack, it looks like you need to unwind a bit. I know how much you don't like medication usually, but I think you'll have to see a specialist about this. I'm going to recommend that you see a psychiatrist just to see if you can work out some of your problems and then see a lung specialist to make sure your respiratory system is working the way it's supposed to. That should cover both bases of what I think is the problem here. You’re sure you've never had this happen before?"

"Positive. Although to be honest I wouldn't have believed myself that I stopped breathing if that Muni accident hadn't happened. Doc, I don't know how long it's going to take for them to pencil me in, but if I might stop breathing the next time I fall asleep or something, shouldn't I see someone who can take a look at me right now instead of making an appointment for something later in the week?"

"I'm recommending you to see a friend of mine who will make sure you get to see her before the day is over. She'll have you do a treadmill test and some other exams to make sure there's nothing immediately posing a danger to you. The psychiatrist is another friend of mine and he owes me a favor anyways. I'll make sure he waits for you and at least meet you today. I hope you didn't have anything planned." The doc's smirk was apparent, giving Jack a very odd look back.

Jack wasn't used to people being this efficient before, much less in general healthcare. The doc's always been nice to him, but never shown this type of effort. He was very relieved as he processed this information in his brain, his facial expressions softened and the doc gave a light slap on Jack's left arm. "You'll be all right, Jack. The fact that you woke up this morning means your body still knows how to jerk you awake before any real damage was done. Go to the nurse outside and she'll make the necessary appointments for you. Come back and let me know if something else comes up okay?"

Jack's face lit up as the doctor finally gave him something to smile about, and for the first time in two days he felt that perhaps something might finally be done right. Jack thanked the doctor and waited in the reception area so the nurse could make the proper arrangements. He went home after leaving the doctor's office to drop his car off. Traffic near the hospital was brutal during most of the day and he knew it would take divine intervention for him to get a parking spot close enough and not having to move or feed the parking meters so often, that he wouldn't be able to get anything done.

The specialists made Jack run until he couldn't run anymore. His lungs weren't exactly in top shape as he didn't run on a regular basis, so he was wheezing after about a mile and a half, showing some old symptoms of the asthma that he grew out of during his teen years. Turns out his respiratory system was fine, although they wanted to explore performing additional tests, arranging for Jack to wear something to monitor his breathing while he slept. Three hours later, he agreed to come back later in the evening to do that after his appointment with the psychiatrist.

Jack sincerely doubted that a shrink would be able to help him from suffocating himself in his sleep, but he couldn't explain exactly why he was doing it to begin with. The doc was so nice to help him schedule everything, so it seemed like it'd be disrespectful if he didn't show up. He decided to entertain the psychiatrist for the session and see if anything came out of it before taking anything seriously. He really didn't have anything against psychologists in particular, just felt that picking his brain wasn't going to solve what in his mind was definitely a physical problem.

He showed up to the psychiatrist's office about ten minutes prior to the appointment. The secretary there gave Jack a questioning look, as he was the reason Dr. Browning couldn't leave for the day and couldn't understand why Jack was so important. He certainly didn't look like a VIP and definitely not someone who looked like in a heap of trouble mentally. She led Jack into Dr. Browning's office and closed the door behind her, gathering her belongings to wrap up the work day.

Dr. Browning was a tall slender man with a very soothing smile and calming facial features. His blue eyes had flakes of green and that fascinated Jack. Like other Asians, Jack's dull brown eyes were so plain and boring; he never found his eyes to be really anything to look at. Jack shook Dr. Browning's hand and sat down on the chair across from him on the other side of Browning's desk.

"So Jack, I've been reading up your file. Interesting encounter you had yesterday. I saw Dr. Leonard's notes earlier and he filled me in with what you told him. Do you have any questions for me before we begin?" Dr. Browning's disarming smile actually made Jack uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being able to just open up to anybody he knew extensively, much less to a complete stranger, but here he was tempted to spill every single last detail to this Dr. Browning. He wondered if he needed to control himself, put on the familiar wall he's always known to do to keep his cover. But what was the point? What would the session do to see if Jack could trust this doctor, how would it help him if he keeps giving Dr. Browning the runaround? The decision was not made easily, but he just had to be sure.

"I'm not sure why Dr. L decided to send me to a shri... I'm sorry I shouldn't say that," Jack caught himself, "A psychiatrist. I don't think I need something like this. I'm having trouble breathing while I'm asleep, not having a problem with how I think. To be honest, I understood the respiratory tests the other specialists gave me, but this has gotten me confused. What can you help me with, by picking my brain that the respiratory specialists can't? I'm sorry if I'm being a bit blunt, but I wanted to see what I'm missing."

"Well, those are valid questions. It looks like you have the onset of sleep apnea. You mentioned that you and your father have snoring problems for a while now. Generally we send apnea patients to a psychiatrist or a respiratory specialist to evaluate the cause of the problem. In some cases it's psychologically associated with how the brain functions throughout the day, including when the patient is asleep. I'm not here to necessarily pick your brains and give you ink blot tests all day to waste your time, but I think working out why you've been having nightmares consistently and then not being able to remember any of it, is something significant for you to explore and perhaps that will ease your mind from whatever you haven't been able to work out in your dreams. What you make from our sessions is your decision really. I want you to be able to be completely honest and try to remember every detail and see if you can portray it back to me. We'll see how you feel about certain events as they relate to your life, and see where we go from there."

Jack was amused, having a straight-forward answer like that wasn't exactly what he was expecting. He really expected Dr. Browning would dance around in circles to play out one of those clichés to get Jack talking and then give ambiguous advice that aren't really concrete enough to pass muster and then make Jack return the following session. He was also stunned about the sleep apnea. He had a friend in college who had to wear a machine just to sleep and giggled at the thought. He caught himself giggling and stopped, but Dr. Browning already caught his giggle. Before Dr. Browning asked, Jack cut in, "Sorry, I just pictured myself looking like Darth Vader while I slept with one of those machines."

"Well, the mask isn't quite as fashionable as Vader's helmet, but it'd make a nice Halloween prop though!" Dr. Browning chuckled. Another disarming smile shone through to Jack, giving him a chill. Jack wasn't supposed to be connecting with this doctor so fast! He wasn't attracted to Dr. Browning, but he had this fatherly demeanor that just intrigued Jack to the core. It made Jack want to have Dr. Browning as a figure to guide his life somehow.

Jack's lips slowly opened, confused, unable to think of a response. It wasn't that Jack didn't know how to connect with the doctor or that he was able to think of one of those standardized remarks he'd been trained to say, when he's in social situations to keep his guard up. It was more like he was getting to know Dr. Browning too quickly and his innermost need to shout to the world that this is not how he really is, was finally breaking through after decades of hiding, covering and masking his true self. His portrayal of what his parents taught him to present himself as, regardless of how he actually felt at the time, was something that was beaten down to his general demeanor since he was very little. But the lack of words at the moment made Jack even more nervous. Where would he start? How would he introduce his life to the doctor? How valid were his thoughts to be heard, to be felt, and worst of all, to be judged by someone else?

Jack's breathing slowed as those thoughts rushed into his head and while they swarmed his brain, Dr. Browning sensed the uneasiness and the clamped shut mouth Jack had zipped, wide-eyed, and knew he unknowingly had held his breath. "Jack, slow down and most of all, breathe," Dr. Browning said firmly, "today is not Judgment Day, so relax."

It was as if Dr. Browning could read his thoughts, but knowing his disguise was no longer controlling his facial expressions, Jack wondered just how transparent his face was giving away his self-doubt, self-consciousness, and most of all guilt. Decades of it bottled up inside and nothing to control the flow, as all of it rushed like a dam breaking as flood waters rushed down wiping everything in its path. The surge of emotions left Jack tearing up uncontrollably. The same involuntary tears that gave him up on that Muni trolley, were betraying every fiber of his self-control. Jack was so lost for words he could not speak.

"Jack, I don't have to be a licensed psychiatrist to know that you need to vent. However long it takes, you're my last appointment anyways. Why don't you take a seat on the sofa and we'll talk about it bit by bit, as much as you're comfortable with." Dr. Browning held his hand up to help Jack off his chair and guided him towards the sofa. Jack got more comfortable and he slowly wept. Jack knew this was it. He felt oddly safe in this room with Dr. Browning - it was time to let go and tell him his story.

"Doc, to tell you everything, I'd have to start from the beginning..." Jack began his life's story and struggles from his earliest memories. Dr. Browning sat for three and a half hours straight making notes along the way, but maintaining eye contact with Jack the entire time, making sure he was giving Jack his undivided attention. Jack knew there was a lot to say, and at last, by 9PM, Jack had finally caught up.

Jack knew he was missing a lot of his story still, but on the "short" version he did a pretty damn good job. Dr. Browning kept his sincere, yet sympathetic look on his face the entire time. He sensed both of them were getting quite tired, and he still had more tests to run with the respiratory specialists. Jack had to go back to make sure he could sleep with the monitors strapped to him, to keep track of his vitals.

Dr. Browning shook his head, "You know Jack, I can't understand how you've put up with everything that's happened to you for so long and kept this good of a demeanor for others for all these years, but I'm glad you're here and are able to talk about this now. And at the same time, I finally understand why Dr. Leonard sent you my way. You might be a good candidate for the research project I'm working on."

"Research project?" Jack was confused as he spoke his thought out loud, then thought silently, 'Oh no, I'm Browning's new guinea pig.'