The head doctor in the ER was one of those quiet, contemplative ones. Seemed like a smart man. Sometimes I confused which ER doctor was the resident and which was the attending doctor, but the head doctor was easy to differentiate. I guess I feel like I need to understand. To wrap my head around all of this medical. I read most of the notes and records, not to look for errors or even for explanations but just to understand the way they think. He called it flat affect... a lack of emotional expression. I'd say that I was afraid and feeling somewhat dissociated standing in that ER again. I didn't know what they were going to do. I just knew that my head wasn't right without the pristiq. I needed that medicine. And I got it. Thank God. I don't say much in person. It just seems like there's so many things I could say. So many things left completely unsaid. Like with Dr. Darcy. It was somewhat surreal. "I remember you" "Yeah, I took care of you"... I think we said a few other things. Repeating what I had said to the resident.