Isabel starts running every morning. For thirty minutes she follows the road that loops around the grounds and within days she is jogging it twice. The running is cathartic, a way to sweat out the toxins of the cigarettes smoked the previous day; a way to escape the commotion in the unit; a way to regain her focus on the outside world. Sometimes, if she starts early enough in the day, she happens on deer, grazing on the dew-soaked lawn. She stops and watches the graceful creatures, feeling a sense of magic, as if they are symbols of good luck.
“You’re looking well today,” Dr. Seidler remarks with a trace of surprise. Isabel walks in, still sweating from her run.
“I’m feeling pretty good, actually,” Isabel answers. “Just being able to run again, to sweat even, is really helping me.” That and a few shocks to the brain.
“How do you think it’s helping you?”
“I just feel better. I can’t explain it.”
“You know about endorphins—I certainly think you’re feeling that—but I think it’s also a healthy way to get back in the game, so to speak. To get back into a regular routine…”
“Yes.” Instead of staring off into space, as she often does during their sessions, Isabel focuses on her therapist. She feels like she is seeing Dr. Seidler for the first time.
“What are you thinking about right now?”
Isabel waits a beat and then answers. “I was thinking that up until now you’ve looked kind of blurry to me. Like when you look through a camera and something’s just a touch out of focus. But today I’m getting a clear picture. It’s weird.”
Dr. Seidler smiles and sits back in her chair. Isabel relaxes, too, and eases back against the sofa cushions.
“That’s a good sign, Isabel. That’s a very good sign.”