In Treatment (2008–2010): Season 2, Episode 32 - April: Week Seven - full transcript

Paul, it's April.

I, uh, I got the test results.

I'd like to come in for one last session.

I'll see you this afternoon.

April?

Paul, it's April.

I, uh, I got the test results.

I'd like to come in for one last session.

I'll see you this afternoon.

In Treatment, S02E32
April: Week Seven

It's the hat, isn't it?



Looks... looks nice.

It looks ridiculous.

So... so your message, you...
you, you got the results?

Well, it itches like crazy.

- You can take it off if --
- No.

- Daniel gave it to me.
- Oh.

- I didn't realize that you told him about --
- I didn't. My mother did.

I was afraid to.

Afraid of how he might react?

I was afraid that he wouldn't react.

I was afraid he would walk away, rattling off
baseball statistics or something.

When our dog died, he didn't seem to notice.

And he loved that dog.

But then, like three months later,
he turned into the kid from "The Exorcist"



and started telling everyone he met
that they were gonna die.

Did you tell him before or
after the tests came back?

Right afterwards.

They came over.

My mother brought me a cake,
and Daniel gave me this hat.

It was like my birthday.

So, you're saying that you
have something to... to celebrate?

It's working.

The mass behind my spine is shrinking.

So, that means: the prognosis is good.

Yes. Yeah.

Wow. That's great news.

I'm just so... so relieved.

What do you feel?

I don't know.

- You don't know? That's, that's not like you.
- Yeah, it's weird.

When they first told you, were you surprised?

Did you, did you believe them?

Are you alone here?

- Yes.
- But don't you have children?

- I mean, you told me you have children.
- I do.

Where are they?

They... they live with their mother.

Hm... so you couldn't make it work either,
and you're a therapist.

Maybe this is why therapists
don't talk about their personal lives.

Kyle and Sienna broke up.

- When?
- Last week, I guess.

He took me out to dinner,
and he gave me this necklace.

It's a wishbone or something,
on a silk chain.

Which is apparently supposed to brake

and, when it does,
you're supposed to make a wish.

And what are you gonna wish for?

We went out for two years,
and he never gave me any jewelry.

To what... what you make of that?

I guess he feels guilty.

That's a possibility.

He'll probably tell me that he cares about me
and he's trying to express himself.

That's... that's another possibility.

It's too late.

Why?

I'm gone.

You mean... you're "gone" beyond an emotion?

I mean, the girl he loved,
the girl he thinks he loves...

she doesn't exist any more.

Even if my hair grows back
and I go into remission,

from now on anybody that I meet, I'm...

- I may have to tell them I had cancer.
- Why?

Because it's true.

So, are you saying that
your cancer has erased everything

that came before, that your old self
is just, is just gone?

I was sitting across the table from Kyle...

and I knew I could take him home with me,
even now, with no hair.

I miss him.

But the idea of getting into bed with him,

taking my clothes off and
letting him close to me, letting him...

It's disgusting. I mean,
I don't want it, ever again.

This is just what you're feeling now, April.
That will change.

What kind of person doesn't want sex?

You see what I'm saying?

- I'm dead, I'm gone.
- You're not gone, April.

You, you are... you are recovering.

And you've only got enough strength for one
thing right now, and that's to get better.

You're right.

- What?
- Don't think I ever heard you say that before.

Consider it a parting gift.

Is that your way of reminding me
why you said in your message...

that you want this to be your last session?

Yes.

And, please, don't try to convince me to stay.

It's just that it's important for your recovery
to talk about everything else that's going on.

I don't want to.

I know you don't want to,
but isn't that your pattern, April?

- Stop it.
- That's what we've been working on:

your pushing me away.

- Just let me help you.
- I can't!

Of course you can.

What I want to do is,
I want to schedule some meetings

for your parents, bring them into therapy.

- Maybe we could bring in Daniel --
- Stop it! I said no!

- Your mother and Daniel --
- Stop it, you fucking asshole!

Is everything okay?

I had to go scratch my head.

- I'm sorry.
- No apologies.

Why don't I have to apologize?
Is it because I'm sick?

Because I'm your therapist.

So what? You're not a human being?

Someone calls you a "fucking asshole"
and you don't care?

I told you the day we met that I didn't want
you to be taking care of my feelings.

What's the point of therapy, then?
Teaching people to be self-obsessed?

Do you really think I need
more help in that department?

Do you wanna sit down?

I understand that maybe you reacted
because a part of you wants to leave,

but maybe you reacted so strongly because,

well, part of you wants to leave,
another part of you realizes

that something valuable is actually
happening in this room.

I could be a perfect person.

I could reach nirvana.

And I could wake up tomorrow
with a lump in my breast.

- So you're saying, "What's the point"?
- Yes.

What's the point?

Why don't you just take it off?

I don't want to.

And I don't wanna talk about why not or,

or why Daniel gave me the wrong hat

or why I can't let you see me bald.

- I understand.
- No, you don't.

You're right.

I dropped out of school.

When?

Last week.

Is it because of the chemo?

But you're almost done.
Don't you want to graduate?

I'm never gonna get a job
as an architect anyway.

- Why do you say that?
- You saw my work. It's shit.

- I don't agree with that.
- It doesn't matter any more.

I'm so far behind, you know,
there's no way I could catch up.

Well, actually, you haven't missed
that much time at all.

I'm sure the school would work with you.

I wasn't even going for me.

I was going for my mother.

She got so nervous when I was graduating
college because I didn't have a plan.

She wanted me to get an advanced degree
so she wouldn't have to worry about me...

because I was on a "path to success".

She used to say, "A mother is only
as happy as her least happy child."

Then she would look over at Daniel and sigh.

And I would think,
"You're staring at the wrong kid, lady."

Well...

Okay, let's, let's... let's say
that you did wanna take some time off.

Why wouldn't you just take,
like, a leave of absence?

I won't go back.

So, you're not just gotten tired of me,

you're actually gotten tired with everything.

What am I supposed to do?
Go sit in a classroom,

suck up to my teachers?
Snort Ritalin with my friends, really?

I have cancer.

I'm 23 and I have cancer.

How the fuck am I supposed to top that?

Where the hell do I go from here?

April, if you could go anywhere you want
and anywhere at all, where would you go?

Back.

- You mean, home?
- Yeah.

But isn't... isn't your home
so long ago and so far away?

You remember that?

There are these organic farms
all over the world.

And they give you free room
and board for your labor.

I was thinking about just
going from one to another.

For how long?

I don't know.

Until I forget my own name.

Well, unless you develop amnesia, the chances
of that happening are slim to none.

There is a girl in chemo with me...

um, she was about my age...

Her name was Lyric. Lyric Merriman.

That was such a beautiful name.

She didn't make it?

No. She died.

Sorry.

Last time I saw her, we were sitting
side by side, attached to our drips.

It looked like she was doodling
in her notebook, just doodling.

And so I leaned over, uh,
to look at it, and...

She was writing her name...

over and over...

in all different scripts... just her name.

Maybe she was afraid of being forgotten.

It's difficult to be the one who survives.

I don't want to.

Survive?

Just... seems so hard.

Living?

Did living seem hard before you got sick?

No.

There used to be this path...

and it was... like... it was steep,

it was tiring, but it was,
you know... well lit.

- It's not there any more?
- It's completely gone.

- Did I make it all up?
- No. You just got rerouted.

Your life's path has changed...
without your consent.

It must be so hard to handle.

April, what you're feeling is normal.

It makes, it makes perfect sense.

But you are going to grow older...

you're gonna fall in love again,
you're gonna have children if you want to.

You'll have adventures, you'll know such joy.

You don't know that, and I don't know that.

No, no, no, of course we don't.

But sometimes, we just have to
act as if we do.

It's not gonna work.

Look, you've gone through the worst of it,

you've already started a climb
out of the hole, you can't see that yet.

Are you okay?

I think I'm gonna be alone my whole life.

Why would you say that?

That's just a... feeling I have,
like a... premonition.

I can't imagine loving anyone ever again.

I don't know how I did it once.

Looks exhausting.

I know what you mean.

I have cancer. What's your excuse?

I'm... no longer 23.

I went on your page again last night.

My -- my what?

Your page. You know, online,

where people can comment
on you as a therapist.

Ah yes, my sad, empty, little web domain.

So, it's not empty any more.

Someone wrote a comment,
someone named, uh, Sophie.

Was she a patient of yours?

Actually, I, I can't, uh,
I can't discuss my other patients.

- Not even with me?
- No.

She says you saved her life.

You should go look at the page.

She has a lot of nice things
to say about you.

She's in college. She sounds happy.

Well, I will.

Thank you. Thanks for telling me.

You've really helped me.

April, I, I really didn't do that much.

I took you to chemo. I told your mother.

- The rest, you did yourself.
- Let me thank you.

Yeah, but it's important that you see
how you took responsibility for yourself,

by coming to see me.

Let me thank you.

And then let me leave.

Are you... are you sure?

I mean, we have, we have accomplished
so much in this room.

You are not the same person
who came in here two months ago.

Came in with cancer, I'm leaving with cancer.

That's not what I'm talking about, April.

You were so angry when you got here.

- I'm still angry.
- Yeah, I know, but now you can talk about it.

When I first met you, you couldn't
acknowledge that anything would hurt you.

Now everything hurts me.

The rain hurts me.
I feel like I have no skin.

Well, therapeutically, that's...
that's a good thing.

I mean, you've learned so much
about yourself, about trust and acceptance,

about not needing to be perfect all the time.

I mean, I know it's hard to see that now, but

the great thing about self-knowledge is
that once you have it... you have it.

And you can't help but put it into use.

Okay.

You still have challenges ahead of you,
that's why I think

you really need to keep talking to somebody.

Maybe... but not you.

That can't be you.

'Cause I'm the guy who took you to chemo?

You're the guy who saved my life.

Do you want me to refer you
to an other therapist?

Maybe later.

Not now. Right now...
I just wanna breathe, and get well.

I'm so glad to hear you say that.

People do survive without therapy.

It's very hard for me to hear that, but...

I guess you're right.

Can you hold on for a second?

This, uh... this might be
easier on your head, it's...

- It's made of leather.
- It's beautiful.

It was my father's.

- Then you should keep it.
- No. It's for you.

Are you sure?

Hm-hmm.

- Can I try it on?
- Sure.

Okay.

Wow.

Oh, my mom's gonna love this.

She really rocks the whole
Amelia Earheart look.

Silk scarfs and leather jackets
are kind of her thing.

- I thought Cuba was her thing.
- Well, she's complicated.

- Not everything's black and white, Paul.
- I'll try to remember that.

Thank you.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.