Steve’s shorts: Sessions…
[PTSD can occur in many situations, even the battlefield of our city streets.]
Sessions
Copyright 2016, Steven M. Moore
Session 1
“How do you feel about the shooting now?” said the shrink.
The police psychiatrist spoke in a whisper, making Gina Peralta wonder how she could hear the woman above the traffic noise just two stories below the window. The detective was standing behind the shrink’s desk chair. She spun and looked across the desk at the empty sofa and the shrink sitting in the armchair.
Gina was a large woman of Argentine descent; her inquisitor was an Asian-American doll in comparison. But the shrink could make Gina feel like Alice after eating the mushroom at times—shrinking, shrinking. She put her hands on the desk chair to steady herself.
“I’m coming to grips with it,” she said.
“Self-preservation justifies your actions, Gina. You know that.”
Platitudes. I’m tired of them all. “I know that from a logical point of view. My emotional problem is that I ended a person’s life.”
“Theirs is often a first time, especially in this city. You did what you had to do.”
“Are you implying I’ll become hardened to it? I don’t want to be.” Gina licked her lips. I never want to reach that point!
“No, but you’ll be better prepared, and you’ll come to terms with the bad memories.”
“Maybe I should have wrestled him for the baseball bat.”
“And maybe you’d be dead if you’d tried. From your partner’s description, this meth-head was out of his mind. The bat was as much a lethal weapon as your gun. With your wounds, I’m just amazed you got your shot off.”
Gina glanced at her right arm that was still in a sling. The PT sessions were worse than the shrink sessions. “Me too. But he was a big target. The shot using the left hand didn’t have to be accurate.”
“Come. Lie down again.” The shrink patted the couch. “Tell me about the nightmares.”
Gina returned to the sofa. “They’re all over the board. I’ve told you about some of them. Last night’s was like being in a parallel universe. My shot missed, and I watched that crazy bastard beat Jack Hershey and his daughter to death with my one good eye before I passed out.”
“It didn’t happen that way. You and your partner saved Jack and Carol.”
“Mick feels guilty about not arriving sooner. He had just come up the stairs and saw the SOB go after me. He couldn’t shoot because Jack and Carol were in the line of fire. He might be more traumatized than I am. Dunno.”
“Maybe I should ask him come to see me too.”
Gina smiled. Oh yeah, Mick would like that! He had no use for shrinks. She had felt that way initially too, but now she wasn’t so sure.
“You’d have to work on him a bit. Maybe tell him it would help me?”
“A dual session? No, that doesn’t work. But that suggests a different excuse. I’ll tell him I want his input because he knows you well. That’s valid. He’s your partner.” She smiled at Gina. “Let’s go through the events again.”
“I’m tired of that.”
“I know. But clearly you’re still thinking about choices. I want to convince you that you had no viable choices beyond the actions you took. What went down had to go down. The sooner you can live with that, the better off you’ll be.”
***
Session 2
“Did you say your goodbyes to Jack and Carol?” Gina nodded. “How do you feel about that?”
Gina thought about the shrink’s question a moment. How should a person feel when she knows she’ll never see a loved one again? “I think I envy them. In the witness protection program, they can start a new life and forget about all the horror that happened.”
“That was compounded by our learning who the meth-head was,” said the shrink. “Jack had a tough ride having to live through all that happened on that grand jury witness stand. Jack and Carol will never forget the horror that happened, though. Time will just dull the rawness of it. The little girl has a better chance of healing than the father. Seeing her mother doused with gasoline and lit on fire isn’t something she’ll forget soon, though.”
“Jack might have problems even forgetting the trial,” said Gina. “This case had more twists than I could have imagined. That crazy bastard was also a dealer. Who’d figure that?”
“I’ve heard that it’s not that uncommon. What was weird was his being daddy’s spoiled little boy, with daddy being a major player in organized crime. That connection will put that drug dealing daddy in jail for many years. One down and many to go, including the father, who has some serious legal problems now with his impending trial. We’ll get him. How do you feel about that? Your shooting ended up doing society a world of good.”
“I focus more on Jack and his kid. I love that man.”
“And now you lose him to witness protection. You could marry him and just be a mother to Carol, you know.”
“He asked me.” Gina shed some tears. “I made a different choice. I want to return to active duty and continue my work cleaning up the streets. I think that’s my calling.”
“That’s a valid choice. But is it the right choice for you? Marrying Jack and joining him and his daughter in witness protection would be another choice. Some might consider it an easier one. Are you sure you’re OK with the choice you’re making.”
“Not yet. I’m still torn. But saying goodbye to them sort of settles it, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know. Let’s explore your feelings a bit more. I have to OK your return to active duty. I’m not satisfied, so bear with me. Your wounds go far beyond a broken arm and several healed knife slashes.”
“Are you going to start that psycho-babble about PTSD again?”
“Yes.”
***
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