"Sounds like good planning. I can write you a prescription for something to help with the migraines, if you like. But I'm afraid that's all I can do on this end."
It was better than leaving with nothing, so Mia took the prescription and went to get it filled at the store while she shopped for comfort food.
The next day, she was a mess. She didn't have the same negative perception of mental health issues that her parents had, but that didn't mean she was entirely comfortable with the prospect of having one herself.
"Be reasonable," she urged herself as she sat in her car in the parking lot, counting down the minutes to her appointment. She'd arrived almost an hour earlier than she needed to be there, which was two hours before her appointment even started since she figured she'd need time to fill out paperwork. "If there is something wrong with you, then it's been wrong with you your whole life. There's no point getting worked up about it since having a diagnosis isn't going to change anything. Maybe there's some kind of pill for it. Maybe you won't be waking up on the floor anymore."
That, at least, had to be worth whatever embarrassment or shame she might feel from something like this, right?
When she couldn't stand it anymore, she got out of the car, slinging her purse over her shoulder as she made her way to the front doors.
It was a nice little business complex area where the office was located, discreet at least. No massive neon sign with flashing letters urging people with brain problems to come on down.
It could have been an office for anything. Insurance. Tax filing. Loans.
At least no one would know as they drove by that she was about to go see a shrink.
"Oh, excuse me."
Mia looked up in time to see a tall man with violently red hair coming out of the door that she had been standing in front of. She moved quickly out of his way and flashed a quick smile. "I'm sorry. I was just standing there like an idiot."
The man stepped out, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. I figure these kinds of things take courage, right?" he grinned at her, flashing dimples.
"Oh. Um. Yes, courage." Mia nodded. "Did you just have an appointment?" She blinked, suddenly horrified with herself for even asking something like that of a stranger. "I'm sorry, that was totally out of line and none of my business. You don't have to answer that."
The man shrugged, still smiling. "Don't worry about it," he said again. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Needing to see a doctor like this. But, no. I was just having lunch with an old family friend who works here. They don't make doctors here that can handle all I've got going on." He tapped his head and shrugged again. "Good luck in there."
"Thank you," Mia said faintly, watching as the man headed across the parking lot.
She'd been so distracted by his hair and those dimples for most of the conversation, that she hadn't even noticed until right at the end that his eyes had been gold. Something about that color stirred her memory, but it was like trying to move through dense fog and the longer she thought about it, the farther away it got. Plus, it was giving her a headache.
Shaking herself, she continued into the building.
Dr. Madison Prince was younger than Mia had been expecting. She was a tall, portly woman with dark skin and warm eyes, and she gestured Mia into the room with a soft smile.
"Please, come in. Can I get you anything?"
Mia looked around at the room. It was set up like an office, of sorts. There was a desk in front of the window that looked out over the rest of the complex, but the focal point were the chairs in the middle of the room.
Both looked plush and comfortable, dark leather meant to make the people sitting in them relax.
She noted that both chairs were identical, though she assumed that the one closest to the desk was for the doctor and the one closest to the door was for her.
In case I need to run out, she mused, and then sighed. "No, thank
It was better than leaving with nothing, so Mia took the prescription and went to get it filled at the store while she shopped for comfort food.
The next day, she was a mess. She didn't have the same negative perception of mental health issues that her parents had, but that didn't mean she was entirely comfortable with the prospect of having one herself.
"Be reasonable," she urged herself as she sat in her car in the parking lot, counting down the minutes to her appointment. She'd arrived almost an hour earlier than she needed to be there, which was two hours before her appointment even started since she figured she'd need time to fill out paperwork. "If there is something wrong with you, then it's been wrong with you your whole life. There's no point getting worked up about it since having a diagnosis isn't going to change anything. Maybe there's some kind of pill for it. Maybe you won't be waking up on the floor anymore."
That, at least, had to be worth whatever embarrassment or shame she might feel from something like this, right?
When she couldn't stand it anymore, she got out of the car, slinging her purse over her shoulder as she made her way to the front doors.
It was a nice little business complex area where the office was located, discreet at least. No massive neon sign with flashing letters urging people with brain problems to come on down.
It could have been an office for anything. Insurance. Tax filing. Loans.
At least no one would know as they drove by that she was about to go see a shrink.
"Oh, excuse me."
Mia looked up in time to see a tall man with violently red hair coming out of the door that she had been standing in front of. She moved quickly out of his way and flashed a quick smile. "I'm sorry. I was just standing there like an idiot."
The man stepped out, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. I figure these kinds of things take courage, right?" he grinned at her, flashing dimples.
"Oh. Um. Yes, courage." Mia nodded. "Did you just have an appointment?" She blinked, suddenly horrified with herself for even asking something like that of a stranger. "I'm sorry, that was totally out of line and none of my business. You don't have to answer that."
The man shrugged, still smiling. "Don't worry about it," he said again. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Needing to see a doctor like this. But, no. I was just having lunch with an old family friend who works here. They don't make doctors here that can handle all I've got going on." He tapped his head and shrugged again. "Good luck in there."
"Thank you," Mia said faintly, watching as the man headed across the parking lot.
She'd been so distracted by his hair and those dimples for most of the conversation, that she hadn't even noticed until right at the end that his eyes had been gold. Something about that color stirred her memory, but it was like trying to move through dense fog and the longer she thought about it, the farther away it got. Plus, it was giving her a headache.
Shaking herself, she continued into the building.
Dr. Madison Prince was younger than Mia had been expecting. She was a tall, portly woman with dark skin and warm eyes, and she gestured Mia into the room with a soft smile.
"Please, come in. Can I get you anything?"
Mia looked around at the room. It was set up like an office, of sorts. There was a desk in front of the window that looked out over the rest of the complex, but the focal point were the chairs in the middle of the room.
Both looked plush and comfortable, dark leather meant to make the people sitting in them relax.
She noted that both chairs were identical, though she assumed that the one closest to the desk was for the doctor and the one closest to the door was for her.
In case I need to run out, she mused, and then sighed. "No, thank
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