November's Radio by Steve Noyes

Author:Steve Noyes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oolichan Books
Published: 2016-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Decision-Support

Gary got to the anxiety session late. His nervous fellow sufferers were sweating out a mild stink like tomato soup around the table. There was a woman with a mongrelly long face and stringy hair; a young woman with flushed cheeks and very large tits; a rocker with tats and earrings with a pained look, his arms crossed. The short guy, doing all the talking, who, unaccountably, had not removed his bicycle helmet, had to be the leader.

Announcements for other support groups covered the cork-boards. Gary wished the Mood Swing Orchestra poster had included a photograph.

“Gary? Gary. Fill in your baseline data in the workbook,” the leader said. “We want to be able to measure how well you’re doing.”

There was a long list of symptoms. He was to rate himself this past week. Gary had nearly all of the symptoms, but only sprinkled in a few ‘all the times.’

The short leader gave the usual If he found you were planning to hurt somebody he was obligated blah. Hoped they had all read and signed the blah.

They sat in sullen silence.

“It’s all going on in your head,” said the leader, with finality.

“The fuck it is,” said the long-faced woman. “My landlord tells me the other day I gotta move after I been dealing with the flood. Oh, sure, while there was a fucking inch of water on my carpets I just been told I gotta move and then a pipe goes and all my stuff is in wet boxes, so with me it’s fucking right-there, all the time, it just keeps going and going and it don’t let up, not ever, and my daughter is monkeying around with boys and I say hooey, it’s just fucking eating me up.”

She succumbed to a prolonged fit of coughing.

“Thank you, June, for sharing with the group.”

“Fuck it,” she said.

The leader drew three large ovals in a triangle on the board and connected them.

“I’ll explain those in a moment. Gary, how is your anxiety level?”

“High,” said Gary.

“And why is that?”

“I can’t tell you. But I can describe it. I got my Director breathing down my neck all the time and I have dreams,” said Gary. “Vivid dreams. Of the being-found-out variety. Sometimes I can’t breathe during the day, I go all panicky. I don’t think my medication is doing me any good.”

“Now, there’s an issue you have to take up with your doctor,” the leader said.

“He’s a pusher,” said Gary. “He’s a black magic pusher. I mean do they ever even do your blood-work to see if this great chemical imbalance is being righted? Of course they don’t. It’s all bullshit. So here I am.”

“What kind of work you do?” said the rocker.

“Government.”

“Yeah, but what do you do?” the rocker said.

“Sorry. I’ve got to keep it vague.”

“Top fucking secret, eh?”

“Now, now,” said the leader, “we’ve got to respect each other’s boundaries, John.”

The long-faced woman continued, “And yesterday I’m on the line with social services and they don’t give a fuck about the flood, any of the damage, and I got my kid daughter to get to school.

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