Initial Prognosis

Chapter 1
Full Story

I put my arms behind my head and laid back in the couch; it was the kind of couch where the comfort was the motivation to keep telling your inner most secrets. As of now, it was working. We had gone over how my mother died when I was two, how my strong father had forced me to “suck it up” from that point on. I explained how a rough exterior from that meant I did not get many friends, resulting in many fights. Dr. Kesla sat there on her chair, legs crossed, a clipboard across her legs taking notes. The PhD on the wall says she was fresh out of school. She was dressed in a black skirt ending just above her knees, and a white blouse with the sleeves folded back at the wrists. On her feet were a pair of black pumps, and her black hair was dangling behind her back. Conversely I showed up in jeans, and a T-shirt.

“Tell me about high school, did things improve?” She asked, with trained fake empathy.

“Well, girls loved the tough guy, but the people I met introduced me early to drinking and smoking. I just only last year kicked the smoking habit I picked up there.”

“And your grades?”

“Good enough, my dad only cared that I passed, anything else was excessive.”

“And after that? Did you go to college?”

“Yea, Iowa state. College was fun, never lost a drinking game. And uh...the education was fun too.” He let slip a little smirk.

“I assume you graduated?”

“Yea, with a degree in geology and a minor in herpes, I had one too many one night.”

“How did your father take it?” Again with the fake emotions.

“Shit, he doesn’t know. I never really felt comfortable telling him such things. He’d just shrug, say it’s my fault and move on, but I still didn’t want to tell him.”

“So you’re a geologist?”

“Yup, full fledged rock-doc.”

“How does that go?”

“Pretty dull, and time consuming. I spend most of my time out-doors looking at rocks in the middle of nowhere. Doesn’t allow for much of a social life, making me single. You interested in a burley geologist?”

She offered her first genuine emotion thus far, a quick laugh, and then she went back to business. “No, that’s alright.” Then she was collected again. “But I am ready to give you your diagnosis.”

I turned my head to look at her. “Ok Doc, what is it?”

She sighed and flipped through her notes. “Well, I think your life is being marked by a sense of lacking.” The words went through me, and I could actually feel myself grow smaller as she continued. “Clearly you now need someone to talk to, and I’m not just meaning myself. In college you probably needed some oversight, someone other then your father to check up on you.” The more words that flowed from her mouth, the smaller I felt. She wasn’t even saying real negative things, I don’t know why I felt the way I did. I could feel my feet shrinking in my shoes, my legs retracting, my jeans pooling as my feet pulled my shoes closer to my body. My shirt began to swallow me. “You needed someone to help you along the way. In high school, you needed someone to show you about how women needed respect.” It could feel my arms retracting into my sleeves, my fingers not even poking out the end, the world grew around me, as I bunched up my toes to keep my feet from sliding out of them. I don’t know why none of this put me into a panic, her voice was just soothing, warm, I felt as ease as she continued to tell me what I needed. “You needed nurturing, you needed more then just your father gave you. Your father hardened you, while you needed someone who would let you cry, someone to kiss a booboo when you fell.” My socks were half on my feet, my shoes were already lost in the couch, and my jeans were flattening out as my tiny legs came closer to my belt line. I had lost control of my body, and then I finally panicked, I tried to squirm, move, but no part of my body would move. My arms fell too short to even enter my sleeves; the neck hole of my shirt was as wide as my shoulders. The only part of my body I could force to move was my...it was my bowels. I unloaded into my jeans, and the smell caused me to tear. This woman was transforming me, regressing me, and all I could do was crap myself. She smiled as she became ready to deliver the final assault with those words of hers. “In short, what you needed then, and what you need now, is a mother. And I think I’m perfect for the job.” Her last words angered me, but there was nothing I could do. Deep down I knew she was right, and deep down someplace I must have accepted it, because soon my brain decided to let go. Memories flew away like a flock of startled geese. I gave up, I let myself become the baby she wanted, my last adult thought: Mommy is nice.

Dr. Kesla smiled and took her new child out of his clothes. He had made a stinky, but this was a change for the better. Luckily for her, his shirt made a nice diaper until she could find a better one.