Recently at home

2:13PM

My eyes open slowly.  Three faces hover fuzzily over me. Eventually, the faces of my id, superego, and ego (Jada, Jodi, and Quiet One) sharpen into view.

Jodi grins and chirps. “Hey, she’s coming around!”

Jodi nods warily.

Quiet One sighs in apparent relief.

I blink.  Something about the light… it’s much brighter.  Things feel lighter again.

My Pomeranian Patty’s face suddenly fills my field of vision.  She’s wearing a little white nurse’s smock and matching cap.  I notice that the trio is also wearing smocks of various colors with Jodi’s being the loudest.  Neon rainbow.  Naturally.

Patty barks sharply to get my attention again and eyes me critically.  Little paws clack away on her iDog beside me. She speaks into the microphone, listening obviously to responses.   She rapid fires a series of questions at me.

I blink.  “Yes, I feel much better … no, I feel neutral … you were born in 2005 and came to live with me Thanksgiving weekend, 2008.  Homicidal urges? Gosh… no, no homicidal urges.”

I sit up and glance around apprehensively for blood on the walls.  Nope.

Jodi gives a thumbs up sign.  “We had to check.  Remember the flight to Mayo Clinic with the coughing, puking, whining tot behind you, and obsessive Chatty Cathy next to you? And you finally arrived starving at the hotel at 1:00AM?  You showed such restraint.  We were so proud of you!”

Jada sighs again happily.

Quiet One snickers.

I remember. “That’s because I couldn’t think how to fashion my plastic cup into a deadly weapon.”

Patty continues chattering into the mic.  I arch a brow at the trio.

Jada explains. “Patty is skyping with Dr. F. on your progress.”

I lie back against the pillows.  My anti-depressive medication had seemingly stopped working six weeks ago. After a alarming downward spiral since New Year’s Eve, I sought tertiary care at Mayo Clinic with Dr. F.  Acting on a hunch from Dr. G., Dr. F. sprang into action.  Within hours, she ascertained that my medication had been effected by severe hormonal changes caused by perimenopause.   She zipped the prescriptions to my local pharmacy, saying that if this wasn’t the answer, I had to return in two months.

I blink again.  By George, I think she got it in one.  I felt absolutely fine.  Wow.

I smile at Patty, who smiles back and ends the call.  So, Dr. F. understands Canine too?  Brilliant.

I throw back the covers and leap out of bed, grinning at the quartet.  “Right!  So, where were we?”

They look at each other.

Jada’s smile turns lopsided.  “Erm, about the tree and stuff …”

I notice finally the sound of music from the living room.  Is that Christmas music on a loop?

Patty throws her head back and howls agonizingly.

Oh.  Right.