A Hot Teen Prescription

I was watching the sunbeam from the window of my psychiatry office, it had gone from my encyclopedia set to the latest addition of the DSM over the last two appointments. I had almost an hour to wait now, Mrs. Jenkins had cancelled this week. Fred would be here at 4 for my last appointment of the day. Fred was never much fun, he was a paranoid xenophobic. Coming to my office was the only time he went outside anymore and that was only because his mom had told him otherwise she was taking him back to the mental ward.

I had gotten my bachelor’s from Princeton and then went to Cornell for my doctorate. I had married my college girlfriend Nancy and I had a pretty good academic career. I was on the fast track to some administrative positions on governmental commissions but turned them down since I wanted to get into patient care, which is why I entered the field in the first place. Nancy and I had moved to downtown Atlanta where she grew up, and I had really been drawn to the idea of helping at risk kids pull their lives together, as I had a suspicion the high number of teenagers that were held back in the city might have been held back for mental reasons as much as anything else.

Things were very good for a few years, my marriage was good, the practice was thriving and I was really enjoying feeling like I had put a lot of kids back on the right path and a solid number of my troubled flock were even attending junior college. It was at that point that Nancy had decided she wanted a family and I completely agreed. We had never thought it would be hard to conceive children but after 6 months of trying, we decided to get checked out.

My plumbing came back just fine so Nancy went to a specialist. That night was when I learned my wife had aggressive stage III cancer of the cervix and ovaries. Worse than that, in a few weeks it was clear the cancer was spreading already. The next year was very painful as I watch my wife get sicker and sicker until she needed round the clock care. I am sure you can tell what came next, as she died that summer.

It was brutal on me, my heart felt hardened and I ended up diving into my work and increased my patient load. The positive results of my patients was the only joy I felt anymore, and it was my total focus.

That was six years ago that all happened and I hadn’t been on a date with a single woman or had a single intimate encounter in that time. I just wasn’t interested. After losing the one woman who had challenged and driven me, and then watching her crumble before me, I honestly don’t remember even feeling the slightest ping of sexual interest in anyone. I was nearly 50 now, still stayed in pretty good shape as I always enjoyed running. It was such a release of the pain I used to carry, and now was a habit, at least it was a healthy one.

My buzzer rang pulling me out of my nostalgia. “Yes Carol?”

“Dr. Davenport, I have a Julie Martel here to see you if you can. It’s about her daughter Adrianna.”

“Sure Carol, send her in.”

I got up to meet her at the door. “Hello Mrs. Martel.”

“Hello Dr. Davenport.” She replied as she took a seat.

“Please, call me Roger.”

“Ok, well Roger, it’s about my daughter Adrianna. We have tried so hard to provide for her and give her a good life. My husband came over to America from Portugal and we have built a strong home. We have two kids who are both in college. Adrianna should be too but she has been held back once already.”

“I see, continue”

“Well, at first I assumed she was just acting out and would grow out of it but things are getting worse. We have found marijuana in her dresser, she tries to wear more and more inappropriate outfits, and she turned 18 last year and if she gets in trouble again, it will go on her permanent record.”

“A valid concern Julie. So Adrianna’s main issues are acting out with drugs and, if I have it right, promiscuity?”

“I didn’t think so, despite her other behaviors and suggestibility, she never seemed to have that much interest in boys other than teasing them. . . but. . . but then. Oh lord!” Julie began to sob into a handkerchief from her purse.

I sat next to her and comforted her. “What? What happened?”

“Oh. I am so ashamed. Adrianna, she. . . she slept with her teacher.” Julie broke into another chorus of sobs.

“Oh, well you shouldn’t be ashamed, that teacher should be. Have you notified the authorities?”

“Yes, but because he denies it and Adrianna is 18, they won’t press charges. The school has suspended him without pay and I think he will be fired, but nothing more. Please help my little girl before she gets in trouble she can’t get out of. You come highly recommended from the Maldonaldo’s.”

I thought for a moment, she must have meant Jesse. He was a troubled kid, obvious case of ADHD. A little medication and a bit of cognitive therapy and the kid did a 180. I hoped her daughter would be just as easy, for her mother’s sake.

“Well, I would be happy to try Julie, set up an appointment with Carol for Adrianna. Give me an hour and a half to review with her. We will go from there.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Julie hugged me and I lead her to the door.

I didn’t think much about it until I was buzzed by Carol the following Thursday at 4:00. Adrianna was coming from school and would be my last appointment of the day. She showed up with her mother and her mother told Adrianna to take Uber back to the house because she had to run some errands.