PTSD and The Good Samaritan

"Anything you'd care to share?"

Heath gave her the short version, and when he finished, she was quite a bit less enthusiastic than him.

"Heath. Please understand that PTSD is a very complicated and tenacious disorder. I'm thrilled that you're feeling better, but also understand there's no shortcut around it. You have to do the hard work over a long period of time and pass through it. There's just no other effective, proven treatment."

Heath thought about what she'd said then asked, "So are you saying people don't have...religious or religious-like experiences? Conversions that take someone who's addicted to drugs or alcohol to sobriety virtually overnight?"

"Well, the literature is mixed, at best, on that topic. I can't deny there are people who report this kind of thing happening. I've just never actually worked with, or even met, anyone who's actually done that."

"No disrespect, Doc, but isn't that essentially an argument from ignorance? You know, like seeing a dead body in a mansion and concluding 'the Butler did it' without any proof, because, gee, who else could have done it', right?"

"I don't want to argue with you, Heath. I only want you to get better. What you're experiencing feels better, I'm sure, but it's like...a sugar high. It's only temporary. Do you understand?"

She smiled in a way that felt patronizing, and Heath wasn't in the mood for being patronized. And just the realization that he wasn't was further evidence he really was doing better. So while he was willing to admit this might be a kind of sugar high, his gut told him the improvement was real.

"I think I do," Heath said as he stood up.

"Heath? What are you doing? We just started."

"No, I'm afraid we're finished," he told her as politely as he could. "I really, truly appreciate everything you've done for me, but I've had more improvement in the last 48 hours than in the last 48 weeks. If I'm making a mistake, then the mistake is mine. But I believe I need to keep pursuing what's been working. So again, no disrespect, but this...isn't working."

"Okay. I wish you all the success in the world, Heath. And should you decide to come back, we'll be here for you, okay?"

Heath hadn't planned on cutting ties, but as he thanked again for all her help, the idea of being free from these long, dull meetings was very appealing.

"Thanks, Doc," he told her before walking out and texting Rachel.

"Hi there. Are you free for lunch?"

"I am," Rachel texted back with a smiley face.

"I'm just leaving the VA. Can I come get you?"

"I need 30 minutes to get ready, but after that, yes!"

"See you then."

Rachel had been feeling tired all morning. She was still happy from her evening out with Heath, but that little bit of excitement had worn her out. Just getting his text and knowing she'd be able to see him hit her like a first cup of coffee in the morning.

When she told her mom where she was going, she told her daughter how happy she was for her.

"Thanks, Mom. Me, too."

"Rachel?" her mom asked as she started to leave to get ready.

"Yes?"

"Well, this may not be any of my business, but..."

"Mom. You know nothing's off limits between us. Just ask or say it, okay?"

"I know, honey, but I don't like interfering in your personal life."

"Mom? Had Heath not come along, I don't think I'd even have much more life to be meddled with—personal or otherwise. So meddling is the least of my concerns, and besides, you don't meddle."

Rachel's smile made what her mom wanted to say much easier.

"Well, I know you just met him, and I know he's...a little young...but he's as nice a young man as I've ever met."

Rachel smiled again then asked, "So what are you trying to tell me, Mom?"

"It's just that, well, in spite of his age, I haven't been able to stop thinking there's something...more... to all of this. It's as though the two of you were, I don't know...destined to meet or something."

Rachel raised her eyebrows and kind of put her lips together and 'smiled'.

"It's funny you should say that."

"Oh?" her mom replied.

"Well, yes. I...I've had that same feeling since the moment we met."

"Maybe it's more than a feeling, honey."

"Maybe," Rachel agreed. "But I can't imagine he sees it that way. I mean, just look at him. He's young and smart, and..."

"Very handsome?" her mom offered with a smile.

There wasn't enough blood in Rachel's face to turn red, but she did seem a little embarrassed at her mother's observation.

"Okay. Yes. He's a very nice looking guy. No doubt about that. And that's just one more reason why there's no way he'd be interested in a woman closing in on...forty."

"Well, there didn't seem to be any reason to think anyone would ever voluntarily donate a part of his liver to save your life, either, right?"

Her mom's eyes seemed to twinkle as she spoke, and Rachel not only felt closer to her, she needed to hug her.

"No. No, there didn't," she agreed as her mom hugged her back. And now I need to get going."

As she walked away, Rachel tossed her head and said, "I...have a date!"

"You jest, but I'll bet Heath thinks it's a date!" her mother called out.

"Yeah, right!" her daughter called back, secretly wishing that were the case.

As the minutes ticked quickly by, Rachel couldn't decide what to wear. Where was he taking her? How nice a place would it be? She knew it wasn't a big deal, yet she also wanted to look nice, and then she had to ask herself, "Look nice for...who?" Or was it, "For whom?" she wondered before laughing and letting it go.

Tired of thinking about it, she grabbed a light-blue knit top with long sleeves then pulled on a pair of white Capri pants and slipped her feet into a pair of white, flat sandals. She put on a bit of mascara, brushed out her hair, and hoped that would be enough.

Just as she finished, she heard the doorbell and her heart skipped a beat as she almost skipped downstairs where her mom was happily chatting with 'that nice looking young man'.

"Oh, here she is," her mom said as Rachel walked up and smiled.

"Hi," she said to Heath, the smile on her face extending from ear to ear.

"Hi, and...wow," he said as he looked at her.

"This is okay?" she asked.

"Oh. Yeah, it's very okay."

Rachel's slim build with maybe 'B-cup' breasts was tailor made for what she was wearing, and she looked very nice indeed.

"Well, you kids have a wonderful time," Peggy said.

"Thanks, Mom," Rachel told her as she kissed her cheek.

"Yes. Thanks...Mom," Heath also said with a smile.

"Oh! Listen to him!" Peggy laughed.

He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, too, and Rachel had to once again fight off tears as her mother beamed.

"See. I told you," she said in a faux whisper.

"Uh-oh. Have you two been...talking about me?" Heath asked as though he was 'very worried' about it.

"Maybe," Peggy said with a smile. "But...I'll never tell."

"Come on," Rachel said. "We need to leave before my mother gets me in trouble."

"Oh. Do tell," Heath said as he winked at Peggy and offered Rachel his arm.

As they walked by, Rachel smiled and said, "Thanks...blabber—Mom!"

"Who? ME?" she said all innocent-like.

Rachel gave her another flip of the head and told her they'd be back later.

"So...now that my ears are burning..." Heath said.

"Oh, it was nothing. Really," she tried telling him.

"Uh-huh. And I wasn't born yesterday," he replied.

Rachel got ready to say something about his age when he held up a hand.

"Not a word!"

She went to speak again and he repeated the charge.

"Nope. Not one word about my rather limited 'time on planet'."

He finally smiled then said, "That's Marine-speak for 'age', by the way."

Rachel laughed happily and thanked him for the clarification.

As he helped get in, Heath asked, "You're not going to tell me what you and your mom were talking about, are you."

"Uh-uh. No. No way," she replied with a laugh.

"Okay. So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Heath said like a stereotypical tough guy.

"Uh-huh. For now anyway," Rachel told him as she laughed as his antics.

When he got in Heath looked at her and she said as sternly as she could, "The answer is still 'no'. Now drive!"

Heath made a 'harrumph' sound then said, "Women!"

Rachel laughed again and told him how glad she was to see him.

He looked over at her, smiled, and said, "Yeah. Me, too."

The two of them talked, ate, then stayed and talked for another hour after their meal. The only reason they stopped talking was that both of them got texts from Dr. Denning at the same time.

"I wonder what this is about?" Rachel said out loud.

"We could call him together," Heath suggested.

Rachel tilted her head then said, "I'm okay with that."

Heath moved over to her side then dialed the number.

His secretary, or whatever her title was, answered and patched them through.

"Doctor Denning. It's Heath."

"And Rachel," she chimed in.

"Well, well. Donor and donee seem to be getting along well," he said pleasantly.

Heath looked at Rachel then said, "Yeah. We kind of are. What's up?"

"Well, I have a date and an OR for the procedure."

Rachel's heart skipped another beat as her blood ran cold.

"Oh. That's...that's great," she said unconvincingly.

Heath both saw and heard the fear in her voice and on her face and put his arm around her.

"That is great," Heath told him much more enthusiastically. "What are we looking at?"

"Monday morning. You'll both need to be at the hospital at 5am."

"Five? As in the morning?" Rachel, not much of a morning person, asked.

The doctor chuckled then told her that was correct and explained why.

"Okay. You're the doctor," she said with a sigh.

They thanked him for the call then sat there staring straight ahead when it ended.

"This is really happening, isn't it?" Rachel mused.

"Do you mean the surgery?" Heath asked in a way that made her look at him.

"Well, yes. Of course. What else could it..."

Her voice trailed off as she quietly said, "Mean."

"Oh, I don't know," Heath said with a smile. "I thought maybe 'this' might be referring to...this."

Heath pulled her little a closer to help Rachel understand he meant them.

"Oh. That...this," she said very quietly. "Funny you should mention that."

"Funny...ha-ha or funny...ironically?"

"Both?" she replied.

Heath smiled then Rachel said, "That's the thing I've been avoiding mentioning. You know, the thing my mom and I were talking about? Well, it was mostly her doing the talking, but I didn't exactly argue. Too much."

"So has this phone call made you reconsider mentioning it?" Heath asked, the teasing gone from his voice.

Rachel was looking at the table when she said, "It's just so...preposterous, you know?"

"Um...not really," Heath replied. "I kind of need to know what 'it' means before I can agree or disagree."

Rachel didn't actually look at him, but she did sort of turn her head his way a little bit.

"My mom was saying that you're a...a really special guy," she began.

Now clearly teasing again, Heath said, "Well, no one can argue with that, right?"

Rachel tried to laugh but nothing came out.

"I completely agreed with her about that part," she continued. "But what she meant by that was that she thought maybe you and I...that we were...kind of...brought together...or something."

Heath got serious again and said, "Don't you think that's at least possible? I know I do."

"Well, yes. At least in the sense that you're a genetic match for me anyway."

"But that's not what she meant, is it?"

"It's silly, huh?" Rachel mused out loud rather than answer him directly.

Heath's arm was still around her and he pulled her a little closer then quietly said, "I don't think it's silly. At all."

Rachel finally looked at him but only for a moment before turning away.

"You do understand she's talking about...a relationship, right?" she said, her heart now beating faster.

Heath gently ran his hand up and down her upper arm as he said, "I do. And I still don't think that's silly in the least."

"Heath. You can't be serious."

"I'm tempted to say something witty, but I'm afraid it would come out—half-witty."

Rachel laughed more out of nervousness than because it was funny, but she didn't reply.

When she didn't, Heath continued speaking.

"Over the last year or so, I've lived inside my head, and all kidding aside, it's not a place I'd want anyone to even come visit let alone move in there with me. In all that time, I haven't had a week's worth of freedom from the hellhole created by PTSD."

He moved just enough so he could see her pretty face then waited for her to look at him. When she did, he continued speaking.

"But since I met you, I've been 'out of my head'..."

She went to reply when he asked her to let him finish.

He smiled at her then said, "Before you can say it, no, not...out of my mind, okay? Out of my head."

Rachel laughed nervously and smiled at him as he went on.

"It feels like...like I've been set free or something. It's been the most amazing gift anyone could have ever given me."

Suddenly emotional again, Rachel began tearing up.

"And then, in addition to that incredible, amazing gift, there's you, Rachel. This kind, sweet, beautiful woman who's given me my life back while turning my whole world upside down."

She didn't bother trying to wipe away the tears. She just let them run down her face as Heath talked.

"So yes, I can't help but think something or maybe some...one...brought us together. But not just for the purpose of being a donor. But because...well, maybe you and I are...meant to be. Together."

Heath reached for a tissue then, with a warm smile on his face, gently wiped away the streaks and the tears.

"And if so, then how can there be anything silly about that?" he asked even more quietly.

"How about because in less than two years...I'll be...forty years old?" she replied, nearly in a whisper.

Her jaundiced eyes were now also red and puffy as they moved back and forth between his as she waited for him to say something.

"Are you saying love ends at 40?" he asked with a kind smile.

"What? I...I don't understand," she replied with a slight shake of her head.

"I was trying to understand why you brought up how old you'll be in two years rather than how deeply we could be in love by then," he said, the smile even more genuine than before.

"Heath. What...what are you...saying?" she asked as her body began to tremble.

"I'm saying I was in despair to the point of believing I'd never even enjoy life again, let alone...fall in love. I hesitate to even mention this, but there were times when I thought that life itself wasn't worth living."

Rachel's eyes were moving so rapidly Heath nearly laughed, but there was nothing funny about this to Rachel so he just finished saying what he knew he had to say.

"Rachel. You've told me I'm giving you back the gift of life, and I suppose that's true. But you've given me my life back, too. You've done what I couldn't do on my own. Where therapy failed, you succeeded. And now? Now, I honestly can't imagine my life without you in it."

She was crying again by the time he said his last word.

"Ever."

Everything she knew about life and love told her he meant every word he'd just said. And as she sat there knowing she would lose her life without the generosity of this amazing younger man who was risking his for her, she realized she loved him. No one else on earth would understand. But at that moment, she knew it was true. And not because of what he was doing, but because of who he was.

Rachel grabbed another tissue, dried her eyes again, then looked at Heath and asked him, "What are you really saying, Heath?"

He smiled, touched her cheek then said, "I'm saying that I love you, Rachel Owens. That's what I'm saying. And I'm also telling you I see nothing silly in..."

Rachel suddenly lunged the 6-8 inches that separated them as she pushed his body back against the door as she kissed him like he'd never been kissed before. The kiss went on and on and on, and when it eventually ended, Heath's face was also a blob of mascara and saline.

"I love you, too," she told him as her eyes went back into overdrive.

"Yeah?" he asked playfully.

"Yes. I do. I really do love you, Heath Thomas," she told him again. "And I agree. There's nothing silly about 'it', at all."

Heath gently pushed her away then leaned in and kissed her, and somehow Rachel managed not cry when he did. And when that kiss ended, all she wanted was to held by the handsome younger man she loved.

That evening, there were two very different reactions to the 'good news' from Dr. Denning.

Rachel's parents were thrilled. They were nervous but very excited.

Heath's mother tried to be supportive, but her fears got the best of her, causing her to break down and cry as she begged him to reconsider. His father, in turn, used his wife's tears as an excuse to tell his son to 'wise up' and change his mind before he got himself killed on the operating table, which, he said, would kill his mother, too.

But even that did nothing to change his mind or the way he felt about the woman to whom he was giving a part of his very self. He didn't even try to convince his dad to see things his way, but he did hold his mom and try to reassure her everything would be fine; something he knew full well he couldn't promise.

From the following morning until Sunday evening, Heath spent almost every hour of each day with Rachel, and often with her family. Neither of them mentioned their new-found feelings, at least not to their parents, something they agreed they would keep secret until after the procedure.

But they hadn't agreed not to talk about it amongst themselves, and Sunday evening, Rachel told Heath there was something she couldn't stop thinking about and had to ask.

"Sure. Anything," he told her as they held hands on the sofa in her parents' living room.

"Well, I believe you mean it when you tell me you love me, but I...I've been wondering if...if maybe what you're feeling for me is, you know, due to this strong connection we have because of the donation or something."

"Ah, okay. And you're concerned that on Monday afternoon I'll 'come to my senses' and realize this really is...silly."

He looked at her then asked, "Is that about right?"

Before she could answer, he turned toward her and said, "Nothing is going to change the way I feel, okay? Not the procedure, not the passage of time, and not even..."

Rachel felt sick when she thought he would say, "Not even my death," before he suppressed a laugh and said, "Your upcoming senior-citizen status in 2020."

She wanted to pretend to be mad at him, but hearing him say those words caused another flood of tears as she nearly collapsed into his arms.

As he held her, he couldn't resist doing a little teasing and said, "Wow. I sure hope this new liver fixes whatever's wrong with your plumbing, because you've got the leakiest eyes I've ever..."

She reached for a pillow and whacked him with it. In return, he grabbed the pillow, tossed in on the floor then pushed her down and lay on top of her, holding her wrists on the sofa above her head.

As she looked up into his eyes she thought about trying to explain why she cried so much. Instead she just said, "I love you, Heath Thomas."

He knew she wanted to say something else so he waited.

"If...if something goes wrong tomorrow..."

"Hey. Nothing's going to go wrong," he told her, knowing those words were as hollow as the one's he'd spoken to his mother.

"But...if it does, I just want you to know how much you mean to me, okay?" she said, her eyes imploring and desperate for him to understand. "And...you mean everything to me."