Chapter Thirty-Four
Kevin looked sternly at his patient. "I'm disappointed that you didn't call me, Lucky. How were you feeling last night? Why did you take so many pills?" Kevin looked closely at Lucky, trying to evaluate his reaction and determine if there was a suicide risk.
Lucky looked directly at Kevin and said, "I was struggling with flashbacks to the time I was with Faison in the compound. Nothing was helping me, and there were so many triggers to the memories. I lost it, I couldn't handle it. I wanted a drink so bad that I must have called my AA sponsor six or seven times in two days." Lucky paused and rubbed his face wearily. "It got to where I wasn't thinking clearly, and I just wanted to escape from it. I didn't try to kill myself, Kevin!" asserted Lucky. "I was looking for any way that I could stay focused in the present and get some sleep. I took too many pills and the wrong ones at that. I panicked and didn't look closely enough at the labels."
Kevin interrupted Lucky. "What I want to know is why didn't you call me when you started having so much trouble. That's what I'm here for. I'm concerned when I see you reaching for the same solution that you did on the streets. You tried to escape through drugs, and that is not healthy. It doesn't work and can kill you or put you in the hospital like you are now." Kevin shook his head and rubbed his neck. His forehead was furrowed with both worry and frustration.
Lucky looked away. "I'm sorry, Kevin. I don't know what else to say. I'll call you next time and try not to OD. I didn't call you before because I knew you'd think I was crazy and want to lock me up. I can't go through that again. You try to lock me up and I will kill myself!" Lucky angrily declared.
Kevin continued. "Lucky, I took into consideration your captivity when I recommended that you continue your psychotherapy on an outpatient basis. I trusted you to do as we discussed."
Lucky looked upset. "But, Kevin, I tried!"
Kevin softened a bit. "I know you did, Lucky. But it seems that your PTSD is more complicated than I'd originally diagnosed. I'm recommending that you continue your treatment in a day facility. It is like being an outpatient in that you go home every evening after spending the day in therapy, but we can offer you more intensive services there including biofeedback and other relaxation techniques to help you deal with any flashbacks that you might experience. We can also adjust your medications to give you some more relief. After three to six weeks, if you improve, we can continue on a traditional outpatient basis. Does that seem like a fair compromise to you?"
"Not really," Lucky huffed. "But I suppose you're not giving me a choice, are you?"
"No, I'm not, Lucky," Kevin replied firmly. "I have a responsibility to insure that you don't hurt yourself."
Lucky gave an exaggerated shrug. "Okay, then, I'll do it. I want to get this the hell out of the way and over with. I do have a life, you know - places to go, things to do, people to see, girlfriends to date." Lucky raised his eyebrows and looked intently at Kevin.
Kevin laughed. "That's reassuring to
know. Happy to hear it."
~*~*~*~
Several weeks later…
Lucky sat on a high step stool in the kitchen with the floor protected by a layer of old newspapers. He was wearing an old green towel around his shoulders, and his long, wet hair was bound up in two ponytail holders spaced two inches apart. His hair trailed and waved down to his shoulder blades.
"You're really taking this hair thing to the extreme, you know," he half complained to an excited Emily. "And be careful, I just want a haircut, not a total scalping. And you know how I like..."
"Oh, Lucky, shut up," Emily interrupted irritably. "I'm trying to concentrate here." She quickly snipped the scissors in front of his face and laughed when he gave an exaggerated flinch. "And, yes, I do know what you like," she flirted outrageously. Emily moved up to Lucky and gave him a big hug, only at his level, it was a chest to face hug - Emily's to Lucky's that is. "Pervert," Lucky mumbled. "And you know you like it," Emily replied. When Lucky came up for air, he said with a wide grin, "Died with a smile on his face!"
Emily resumed her position behind Lucky
and grabbed his ponytail with a firm hand. Lucky cringed, and then Emily put the ponytail
between her sharp scissors and bravely snipped. She took the cut-off hair and waved all
six inches of it grandly in front of his face. Lucky reached with a hand behind his back
to feel where his hair was now. "Wow," he said shaking his head. "That
stuff was heavy. My head feels a pound or two lighter!" Lucky's hair now lay barely
touching his shoulders. "Now I'm ready for my big interview. Thanks, Em."
*** "Lucky!" Tony's face was lit up as he entered the front door. Lucky was seated on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn watching Monday Night Football.
Lucky looked puzzled. "What's up, Tony? Why are you looking so happy?"
Tony plopped down on the vinyl recliner with a satisfied sigh and stole a huge handful of Lucky's popcorn. "Hey!" Lucky chided. Tony grinned again and said, "You have an interview next Friday at 2:00 with the General Hospital MIS Department." Tony chuckled at a speechless Lucky Spencer. "Cat got your tongue, Lucky?" asked Tony.
"Man!" Lucky looked amazed. "What in the world is going on?"
"What's going on is you did a spectacular job correcting the satellite branches' networking problems. Everyone in Port Charles is now online with GH and singing your praises."
"But, what am I interviewing for?" questioned a curious Lucky.
Tony answered, "They're looking for a person to administer the satellite branches' computers. I don't know what the title is, but you'd do installations, troubleshooting, that type of thing. And, it is only 25 hours a week with full benefits. Can't beat that."
"Ohmigosh!" exclaimed Lucky. "I'm really excited. But, I'm still waiting on my test results for the GED," he worried.
"I'm sure you're not afraid you won't pass, Mr. Brain," teased Tony.
"Yeah, I will," replied
Lucky smiling. He shook his head, "Man, I can't wait for that interview!"
***
Lucky gathered up the newspapers on the floor while Emily ran to get some more styling tools. When she came back into the kitchen with a brush and blowdryer, she saw Lucky chasing a big black bug across the countertop with a killer spatula. Every time he lunged at the bug, it stayed one step ahead. WHAP, WHAP, WHAP went the spatula as the bug ran for its life and scooted under the refrigerator. "Dang it!" yelled Lucky. "It got away!" He started pulling the refrigerator out from the wall.
"Lucky," said Emily. "I think it was just a big cricket anyway. What are you so riled up about?"
"It looked just like a cockroach I used to know," he bemused. Lucky's thoughts went back to his old apartment over Jake's and his legendary cockroach battles.
"Oh, you're giving me the chills talking about this," complained Emily, as she rubbed hard on her arms to ward off thoughts about bugaboos.
Lucky laid down the spatula and walked over to Emily, taking her in his arms and giving her a very big kiss. "There, does that help to warm you up?" he joked. Emily responded by placing her hands in his back pockets and pulling him closer. "What do you think, big guy?" she asked with the devil in her eyes.
"Tony!" said Emily as she broke apart from Lucky. A sweating, sweatsuited Tony grabbed and quickly downed a cold bottle of water from the fridge. "Cleaning up our resident computer expert and making him presentable?" asked Tony as he wiped his brow. Lucky joined in and snorted, "Lookin' mighty buff, Mr. Muscles." Tony made a face at Lucky. "Just getting my money's worth out of that home gym. I see you've been working out lately, too." Lucky blushed as Emily squeezed his biceps and said, "My he-man!"