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Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: The Secrets That You Keep

Cresseida had noticed a slowing of progress in Ira. While her physical health was improving, her mental health seemed to be deteriorating drastically. In response she had decided to see her about a potential psychological therapy treatment consultation to work in conjunction with her physical therapy. She was a little concerned how she would react, given the fact that whenever asked about her personal life or past she seemed to change the subject or shut down. Still, Cresseida knew there was a time and place for everything. She had been very gentle with her so far, and had built trust. But now she felt it was the appropriate time to apply a little pressure.

The young doctor opened the door without her usual cart in hand, but instead a clipboard with a notebook. She looked inside the room and saw Ira sitting in the center of the bed, with her forehead resting on her knees, rocking gently. 

"Good morning Ira," She said with her usual kind tone, but using her name instead of her typical terms of endearment, causing Ira to lift her head cautiously, immediately noticing the subtle differences in her demeanor. 

"I wanted to talk with you about something a little different today. I've noticed that while you've been gaining weight back, you still seem very withdrawn. Even when I've encouraged you to eat in the mess hall, you seem adamantly resistant to it, and you still have your crying spells," Cresseida spoke with earnest concern in her voice. "I know you haven't wanted to talk about your past, but at this point I feel it necessary to encourage you to accept some talk therapy."

Ira furrowed her brow and looked away, sitting back and nervously wrung her hands together. 

"I don't- I don't want to… I don't like talking to strangers, I don't like talking about myself." She replied, uncomfortably. "And you know I can't afford it..." 

"No no, you'd just be talking to me, so it would be covered still, would that be alright?" She asked earnestly. Ira continued that same contemplative expression, but at least seemed to be mulling it over."I'm gonna be honest. It's gonna be heavy, and it might hurt. But look at it this way, can you possibly hurt any worse than you do now? What do you have to lose? The worst thing that can happen is that it does nothing and you're no worse off than before, right?" The doctor encouraged her, with an honest expression of compassion. 

Ira pursed her lips and chewed on the inside of her cheek, thoughts racing inside, but outside still said nothing. Dr. Noatak sighed and continued. "Ira, I know that life has not been kind to you. I know that under the current circumstances there are very few people you feel you can trust, and that must be terrifying. But as your physician I want to do everything in my power to help you as best as I can with the time that I have. I can see that clearly not all the burdens you bear are physical, and if you don't take this opportunity I think they will only continue to haunt you the rest of your life, and I don't want that for you. All I want is to give you the tools you can use to become a happier, healthier, Ira. Won't you let me help you?"

Ira looked incredibly nervous, conflicted, scared, then desperate. There were so many thoughts and feelings swirling around inside her threatening to burst. She wanted to be able to open up to her. She wanted to tell her everything just so that she wouldn't have to hold it all inside any longer. She wanted to be able to trust this woman who has been doing nothing but try to heal her and make her feel welcome. She had taken the risk too many times before and it had nearly destroyed her when it all blew up in her face almost every time… Almost…

Her mind flashed with the memory of kind eyes and embracing arms that she missed more than anything. It was possible to be accepted. But was she willing to try again?

Ira examined Cresseida's gentle countenance, eyes pleading with permission to help her. Waiting for consent.

"I-I'm.. Scared…" Ira took a deep breath and began to communicate. "I'm scared of being carted off to the looney bin if I tell you the whole truth… Or deported to the outliers as soon as the money runs out… I can't stand to be betrayed again…" She squeezed her eyes tight and her voice shook with each breath as she continued to speak. "I never know who I can trust. I mean, I think I can trust them-! but then I tell them too much of the truth, and I ruin everything and I have to run again!! I have nowhere to go, and nothing to live for!!" She realized she had started shouting and she fell silent, her deep blue eyes gazing at the doctor brimming with tears that threatened to fall. 

"Anything you say will be kept completely confidential, I have legal forms you can sign that bind me to that, I would be happy to go through them with you." She was completely calm and unbothered by the outburst, still intent on her purpose. She retrieved some papers that were behind the notebook she had clipped to her clip board that she offered to her. She took them and began looking them over as the woman in the white coat continued. "In layman's terms, they mean I can't breathe a word of anything you say in these therapy sessions to another living soul, except in the circumstance that you are actively planning to harm yourself or others. Any treatment I consider will be an active discussion with you, that you can consent to, or refuse at your own discretion." Cresseida did her best to reassure her patient, and gave her those gentle soft brown eyes again. 

"Ira, my goal is for us both to work together as a team to create a health plan for you. To find out what you need, and then get those needs met so you can stand on your own two feet again. You aren't some science experiment, you aren't a prisoner, you have rights here," She insisted. "And I have no intention of having you carted off anywhere, not if I have anything to say about it." She reassured her with sincerity. 

The weeping woman with the long dark hair studied the figure before her for just a moment more. Every soft edge of her countenance and every gentle word of her voice. Many times in her life she has had to take a leap of faith. Sometimes for the worse. Sometimes for the better. Right now she yet again recognized the crossroads, and yet again at a point in her life with nothing to lose, and nothing to live for, she decided to surrender herself to it. She decided to jump.

".... Okay… I will try…" She said, taking a deep breath in and out. Cresseida's face lit up and she grinned with joy. 

"I really feel you're making a good choice here!" She beamed as she had Ira fill out the paperwork to the best of her ability. They discussed when their first session would be and Cresseida shook her hand warmly. 

"I promise I will do everything within my power to help you, to the best of my ability. I'm going to file these and I will see you tomorrow!!" She nearly skipped out of the room, full of the spirit of hope.

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She stepped out the door with giddy energy and she began walking down the hall to the records room.

Walking down the opposite way was a tall thin man, with bags under his eyes, also in a labcoat. He had long black coarse hair, with chestnut brown skin, with a drooping hooked nose and a careworn disposition. His serious expression seemed invested in a chart he was studying as strode. He glanced up and noticed the grinning Doctor coming his way, then noted the room she just emerged from.

"You seem even more chipper than usual," He said with a rather monotone but interested voice. 

"Oh hello Daksha! Pleasant seeing you here, I'm just off to file some consent forms for the patient in room 218!" She exclaimed proudly. 

"Oh? What sort of consent forms?" Daksha cocked his head to the side curiously. 

"Well," Cresseida suddenly sounded hesitant with her wording. "For a treatment that I'd like to try," She said honestly. Daksha spied the papers in her hand and caught a glimpse of what form she had before she snatched it tight to her chest protectively. He furrowed his brow and looked skeptical.

"Hmmm," He began, fighting a reproachful expression before sighing. "Can I talk to you in my office?" 

"Of course," She replied with a calm confidence as they began walking to his office. "It's not against the rules you know, I have a minor in psychology and I am filing all the correct paperwork,"

"It's not quite that exactly," He said, searching for the correct words. "Let's just wait until we get inside," They rounded a corner and he opened a door, with Daksha Tuari M.D. Etched into the glass, and she went inside, he closed the door and took his seat at his desk and she pulled up a chair. 

"Alright, say it," Cresseida said with an expectant expression, clearly having an idea as to what was coming.

Cresseida was a unique student. She at times ruffled feathers with just her very presence in medical school, let alone her sometimes outspoken or obstinate tendencies. While not being completely alienated by her peers, sometimes her independent nature and proclivity for questioning the status quo could often cause others to bristle toward her. Still she was a good doctor, and they couldn't deny that, so those that might have qualms against her or her methods held their tongues for the time being. 

She was dedicated, treating her patients as individuals, looking to identify all the variables affecting the whole of their health, rather than simply targeting their individual ailments or symptoms. There were some that thought it uncouth to pry any further than addressing their base ailments. Still, even those like the esteemed Dr Strath, the head overseer, couldn't contest the efficacy of her results, and so kept a watchful distance.

The young woman had a pension for taking on the more difficult patients as well, or whoever, for one reason or another, nobody else wanted to take. which Daksha, and her other peers couldn't help but respect. The other residents resolved it as one less headache for them to deal with. Her technique to use an unflinchingly positive attitude toward those who would trespass against her quickly curbed any dissent from the older more stubborn medical staff, like the stodgy judgemental head nurse, Edith.

She was a favorite among many of the nurses and techs around the hospital, distinctly lacking the trademark sense of superiority that many doctors tended to hold, especially at the prestigious and highly respected St. Olga's Memorial Hospital. In fact, she even thought to bring them pastries as a token of gratitude for their hard work, even as just a medical resident. Earning many of her subordinates and colleagues endearment and respect for just small acts of care and kindness. Acts that many of the seasoned doctors at St. Olga's considered themselves above, but not Cresseida.

Daksha had known her for many years, often crossing paths throughout their medical school journey, though Daksha had graduated the year or so before her. They formed a very respectable relationship as colleagues and had a tendency to work well together. They also looked out for one another when the medical system they were forced to work under could be hostile or inflexible. 

So in typical Daksha fashion, he felt he had to say something, even if he knew it would never stop her. 

"Don't be so impertinent. I was just going to say that Dr. Strath has been getting on you for doing pro bono work, especially when you haven't graduated just yet. And you know how he feels about patient 218-

"Yes but she's my patient," She replied firmly. "I'll treat her as I see fit, and I will course correct based on the results. And I'm just reaching the cusp of officially getting my degree! But there is somebody who needs my help now! Not six months from now," she replied adamantly. "We will continue treating her as I have instructed." She smiled at her clipboard with resolve. "I can help her, I know it,"

"Just-" Dr. Tuari cut in. "Just remember what I said about making promises you can't keep, especially to patients," he sighed with worry, as he rubbed his eyes. 

"I make promises to do what I can to the best of my ability. And I'm going to do my best, that's the best that anyone can do." She rebutted.

Daksha was a quiet, pessimistic man, who often was the complete contrast of Cresseida's plucky upbeat attitude. He knew better than to think her naive. That was his first mistake when he met her in medical school. He knew she understood the stakes, though he struggled to find just how she could remain so bright when sometimes it was her responsibility to help people to grapple with some of the heaviest burdens a person can possibly face in life. Still he couldn't help but let out a word of caution at times, it was just in his nature and Cresseida knew this and didn't hold it against him. 

"I will also advise that you watch yourself around staff-" He began before being interrupted.

"I already said that I'm not going against the rules," She said plainly but he leaned toward her, lowered his voice and whispered. 

"It's not just the hospital rules you need to worry about. The insurance man will take his pound of flesh and he is not a fan of charity that doesn't feed him what he feels is due. It might not be much of a problem now, but if you keep doing it, they will do whatever they feel they need to, to force your hand. They never fully prepare you for how horrible they will be, but trust me they can and will make your life hell and your ability to treat patients impossible,"

"She's already been paid for, and I'm going to make sure she gets every ounce of help I can give while she is my charge." She said with dauntless intent. "I am going to do everything I can for my patients, Daksha." She pursed her lips and remembered what her husband had said. "If that means I gotta go up against some leviathans to treat them, I will. If that means I need to rock the boat and upset some powerful people, I don't care," Her usually soft brown eyes were filled with fire and absolution as she proclaimed the words with the sanctity and resolution as a clergyman beseeching an angry god.

 "I didn't become a doctor just to stand aside and do nothing." The last words especially left her saintly lips with the same taste of vengeance and grief lingering on her tongue as the final stubborn embers at the end of a viking funeral. Daksha lowered his head and nodded with a worried but beaten sigh.

"You're too good for the way this world is, Cresseida. And one day it's going to be the death of you," he shook his head.

"I know." She stood up and smiled down at him with that last gleam of fire still shimmering in her hopeful eyes. "That's why I will change it into a better one. That is a promise." She grinned. "But don't you worry about me. I ain't goin' anywhere for a long time," she smiled.

"Alright, fine. Let's go file that paperwork," he said with finality, yielding to Cresseida Noatak's unstoppable force of will as he placed his palms on the desk and rose up from his seat to leave. "What was that you said about not making absolute promises?" he said as he closed the door behind them.

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