“Medication?  For what?”

“You have all the classic signs for depression—sleep deprivation, not eating, weight loss, avoiding or dismissing friends and family with a desire to be alone, fatigue.  I’m going to prescribe Zoloft. It will treat your symptoms of depression.  I’m going to prescribe 50 milligrams once a day….”

“I don’t want to take anything.”

“Bette, if you really feel that you want to try to see this through without medication, we can do that.  You’re losing too much weight and that’s a concern.  Your eating habits are troubling.  Let me give you the prescription and you make the decision.  I’ve read your history that you filled out when you first came in.  You’re not allergic to any medications and you’re not on anything that would interfere with this drug.  Is that still the case?  Have you taken any prescription drugs in the past 14 days?”

“No.”  Bette chewed on her upper lip.  God, I’m sicker than I thought.  Anti-depressants?  I don’t want this.  But I am depressed.  I’ve never been so depressed.

“Okay,” Suzanne finished writing the prescription.  “Take some time and decide if you want to try this.  If you do, call me because I’d like to monitor that.  I’m giving you a dosage right down the middle.  It’s neither the mildest nor the strongest, but I think you’ll see some relief.  If you start it, don’t stop.  It needs time to get in your system, all right?”

“I don’t think I will,” Bette said as she reached for the white square sheet.

Suzanne stood and walked Bette to the door.  “I’ll see you on Thursday.  But if you need to talk to me, don’t hesitate to call.  Are you feeling good about the way things are going, Bette?”

“I’m not sure.  I guess.”

* * * * *

The final act before leaving for work this particular Monday was to slip a handwritten note on a stack of mail that sat on the table.  Tina had started coming around when Bette was in the office to pick up her mail—a few catalogs, a student loan statement, and what Bette considered junk mail (letters begging for support to this cause and that one).  All of that mail was either addressed to Tina Kennard or to Tina Kennard and Bette Porter.  Bette had never given a dime on her own to any of these organizations, but she didn’t mind that Tina took the time to financially assist groups she believed in. The junk mail was much higher than the rest of the mail, but Bette made sure that Tina would see it all.