InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "those days...?"

Dr.Roseanne Queen (allwaysmyways) wrote in spindlesend,
@ 2009-01-26 11:09:00

Who: Dr.Roseanne Queen and Randall Calloway
What: First session
Where: Roseanne's office
When: This afternoon
Rating: PG-13, or R

Crimson painted nails picked through various files as she searched for her most recent patient. The name she was looking for was Randall Calloway, and because of her obsessive compulsive mannerisms, she found it almost instantaneously. She wasn’t quite sure if her organizational skills were counted as one of her flaws, or one of the few good qualities people seemed to think she had. No one could argue that Rose was always on point with everything she did. Nothing was ever missing, and she knew where everything was…for the most part. She was always on time, and she was always very prepared. It was maybe a bit much of her to expect the same from other people, but she did. Her patients got a bit of leeway, since it took some time to get acclimated with the schedule and the hospital itself, but once they were on a set routine she didn’t appreciate people being late.

Placing the boy’s file on her desk, she closed the cabinet with her other hand, locking it so that it was secure. Once everything was settled, she turned to sit down, only to get distracted by the vase of roses that she had just placed in her window. Sighing, she moved over and adjusted them until they were arranged to her liking. Once that was done, she took a look around the rest of her office, making sure it was…presentable. It didn’t seem like she cared, but the woman really did want her patients to get a good first impression upon meeting her. If after a few sessions, they found her to be hard headed, and not like her, than that was something they were just going to have to deal with.

She finally took her seat behind her desk after straightening out the picture frame that was placed directly behind it. It was an 8 x 10 photo of the playing card The Queen of Hearts; something that was given to her by a friend when she mentioned the nickname bestowed upon her by a former patient. It matched the motif of the office quite well, since…it was red. Anyone who walked into that office could tell that the doctor was quite fond of the color. Most of what she wore had some shade of it somewhere. Today, it was a black pencil skirt, and white button down shirt, accented by a crimson belt, which matched her nails and her shoes. The silver in the belt was matched with her jewelry, which really only consisted of a thin chain bracelet, and studded earrings. Her hair was parted and swept back into a neat ponytail. Over all, she looked very professional, and well put together…which was what she was going for. In her opinion, people dressed the way they wanted to be viewed. For instance, there was Demetra Jord, who dressed in whatever she wanted because she wanted it to be made perfectly clear that she was an individual who had her own taste, and didn’t really care how professional she looked. If there was one thing she could say about the doctor, or…the intern she was sharing this patient with, Lita Kino, it was that she at least dressed properly for work.

Large blue eyes went over Randall’s file for what seemed like the hundredth time. She wanted to make sure she had everything she needed to know about him right off the bat. Of course, not all of his information was in front of her, but at least she got a basic idea. Reaching out, she grabbed her mug, only to look over at the door when she heard the knock. “Come in.” She spoke clearly, and loud enough for him to hear her.

Now, all she had to do was wait for him to enter.

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powerplay
2009-01-26 12:15 pm UTC (link)

Randy had tried very hard not to be nervous about this appointment, about this doctor. He wanted to cooperate, to be a good patient, to get better and serve the rest of his sentence in Cheshire and then leave and somehow be a normal person. He knew that things were wrong, that things were broken in his mind, that Jake had broken them, that he needed help to get to being normal again...but it was very difficult to imagine dealing with all of it when he froze up and freaked out every time the subject was raised, every time anything even remotely resembling his trauma was brought to light. Not only was it nerve wrecking to go through that kind of uncertainty, to deal with that trauma...it was also embarrassing to seem so weak. He had felt it when he met with Dr. Kino; the acute embarrassment of not being able to form very coherent sentences, of being so disjointed and shy. He was already so quiet, always had been, but his experiences in the past few years had given him this terribly awkward slant, and he doubted that either of his doctors would find him anything but annoying.

His meeting with Lita had been a 'spur-of-the-moment' sort of thing, but this appointment was very precisely planned. He had a time that he was supposed to arrive, and for some reason, that made him feel altogether more conscious of the entire affair. He had an appointment to uphold, and he would not be late, no matter what. Aside from his appointments with his doctors, Randy had very little else to plan his days around. He was trying to leave his room more often. He was trying to read more. He was trying to smoke less. But none of these things required any real planning, and anyway, he'd always been shit with plans. Having someone else offer him a glimmer of structure felt rather right, and he couldn't help but find it a little comforting. He thought that might be really weird, but it who would he tell? No one. No one could really have anything against you if you just...didn't talk to them, right?

That morning, Randy had gone through his meager closet and attempted to pick something that wasn't too horrible looking, faded, or ripped to shreds. It was a fool's search, though, because he barely owned any clothing and anything nice he had was at home in California, an entire country away from this strange place. After some speculation, he pulled on long sleeved black shirt and a pair of faded jeans that only had a few holes, and with his black Chuck Taylor's, the outfit was complete. He considered asking his mother to send more clothes in his next letter, but the thought of her having to go through his things, pack them up, and send them off...well, that was a bit much, and it made him feel horrifically guilty, and that only made him more nervous about the situation on the whole.

So he smoked to calm down, but remembering that this doctor didn't like cigarettes, he made sure to smoke outside despite the frigid cold, fingers all purple and shaking in the New England winter. Maybe he could at least ask his mother for gloves...carefully, he avoided the nurses and orderlies, the other patients, doing what he could to melt into the shadows, to not be noticed. Lita had warned him against getting in trouble, but she hadn't counted on this; if Randy had his way, he wouldn't even be seen. It was hard to get in trouble when you never did anything worth the smallest bit of attention, right?

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powerplay
2009-01-26 12:16 pm UTC (link)

Finally, the time came, and he made his way down to her office. Except that he was ten minutes early. The young man had wanted to be early, but ten minutes? That just seemed desperate. So he stood across the hall, staring at the name plate and the numbers on her door, first tying back his blond hair and then pulling it out, shaking it loose, only to repeat the process a minute later. Finally, it was two minutes until appointment time and he decided that knocking now wouldn't seem too desperate, so he raised one hand and, with a slight grimace, knocked.

His stomach flip-flopped when she asked him to come in, the nervousness finally reaching a crescendo, but he turned the door knob anyway and looked straight at her, blue eyes swimming with apprehension, with worry. "Uhm....hello," he muttered, his voice just loud enough to be heard, eyes darting around her office for a moment before settling on the floor at his feet. Ok, so she was beautiful. He had only looked at her long enough to let that fact register, that she was one of the most gorgeous women he had ever seen, and that everything about her seemed to be exactly and perfectly placed, planned, and executed. It was strange; he was both terrified by that and strangely relieved. Not knowing what to do with that, he left the door open a crack and shuffled in to the office. "I'm...Randy. Uhm. Uh....the nurses, they said that uh, I should come to an....appointment, today. I hope...they uh....weren't wrong about the uhm...well, the time..." Crossing his arms in front if his abdomen, the patient snuck a quick glance at her and tried to stop looking like an idiot. Great. He had been here for thirty seconds and he already looked like a moron...

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allwaysmyways
2009-01-26 01:31 pm UTC (link)

Her eyes focused on the boy who had entered the room, her hands folding on her desk as she observed him from where she sat. When he confirmed his identity, she gave a small, almost unnoticeable nod of her head, a way of letting him know that she had already known the information before he had said anything at all. She had to concentrate to catch all of what he was saying, since he was not only quiet, but didn’t necessarily speak in full sentences. They were fragmented, and parted by words like ‘uh’, which was a sign of nervousness. She didn’t expect anything less from him, but it would be a complete lie to say she didn’t wish he would stop. She could only hope that over time, he would become more comfortable around her, and speak in complete sentences, and maybe even make eye contact.

Rose didn’t get up from her seat right away, but continued to take in the boy’s appearance. He was good looking, she had to admit, and he had very entrancing features. The thing she came to notice most about him were his eyes, even though she hadn’t been able to get a very good look at them since he was keeping them aimed at anything but her. Something was hidden behind them, and she was immediately determined to find out just what that something was. From what she had read in his file, he was quite intelligent. Even without reading it, and even with his constant mutterings and chopped up words, she could tell that there was something more to him than met the eye. It was also apparent that despite his limited wardrobe, he had tried to wear something that was presentable. She didn’t expect any of her patients to come equipped with a suit and tie or anything like that, but he wasn’t wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, at least not during the first meeting. After this, he could wear anything he liked and she wouldn’t have cared. The whole point was for him to be comfortable, because if he wasn’t, there was no point in trying to talk to him. Even at the first meeting, it didn’t matter much…it was just a nice touch that she had noticed.

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allwaysmyways
2009-01-26 01:31 pm UTC (link)

Eventually, she lifted herself up from her desk. He didn’t have to wait very long for her to do so, since she had only stalled a few moments. “I’m pleased to inform you that you are in the right place, at exactly the right time, Mr.Calloway.” As she spoke, she made her way around the desk and stood before him. With her heels on, she was just a bit shorter than he was. Rose wasn’t necessarily a short woman, but she wasn’t a giant either. She was a good height, standing at 5’7” with no shoes. Three inch heels added to that, but luckily she didn’t tower over him. For some reason, she had a feeling that if she did, it would make her even more intimidating than she knew she already was. Although she was a beautiful woman, she had a very hard look about her. Everything about her, from the way she walked, the way she spoke, the way she dressed, the way she looked, all made it very clear that she was a woman who meant business. It just took a bit more time for some to figure out that she really wasn’t a monster, like other people seemed to make her out to be, just because she did things a different way than others.

She stopped in front of him, giving him a small smile, slowly placing a hand out for him to shake. She didn’t want to startle him, in case he was as jumpy as he seemed. “I’m sure you already know by now that I am Doctor Queen. The name on the door alone should have led you to that conclusion. I do hope you found it alright.” She stepped to the side, and gestured down to the small red couch that was nearby. “Please, take a seat if you believe you’d be more comfortable doing so.” She rounded back to her desk, and grabbed his file and her mug before making her way back over to the seat directly across from the piece of furniture she had offered to him a few moments ago. After that was done, she placed both objects she had grabbed on the table beside her, and leaned forward a bit, resting her elbows against her thighs as her slender fingers laced together. “I do hate being completely stereotypical, but I’ve just made some tea. Would you like some? I know it can be rather cold, and being cold is incredibly uncomfortable. And I would like to have you know that you do not have to say yes just to please me.”

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powerplay
2009-01-26 05:11 pm UTC (link)

It made him incredibly nervous when she got up like that, when she came around to shake his hand. He wasn't sure what else he should have expected from her, after all, coming to shake someone's hand that you were just meeting was very normal, but it wasn't prison normal. And as much as he despised it, prison normal was what his mind traveled to these days. He hated that it was so ingrained in him, hated that it was this big of a deal even though the relative amount of time he had spent there was fairly small. Two years out of twenty-two years. That was hardly anything at all, right? Still, thinking that or even saying it made little difference. The rules of that place, the culture, the stench, the noises...they were burnt into him like a brand, and try as he might, he couldn't shake it. It would be nice if the doctors could change that for him...but he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"I wanted to be on time..." he murmured, one corner of his full lips quirking up ever so slightly, even as he reached out to shake her hand. Despite his trepidation, his grip was firm, and he couldn't help but wonder at how her hand felt so small and refined. Being around women again was such an odd experience...it was hard to remember how nice they were in reality. "And uh, yes, I did. No trouble at....all. And uh it's....nice to uhm, meet you..." Still, it was a relief when she stepped aside and showed him to the couch. His heart was pounding; being that close to another human being had that affect on him, moreso when they were a stranger than any other time. He knew somewhere, logically, that Dr. Queen wasn't going to hurt him. That even if she wanted to, he could easily overpower her, protect himself. But he couldn't help the fact that his physiology went immediately into fight or flight, adrenaline dumping into his system at an unnatural rate, tensing his muscles and making his heart beat faster than it should have.

So he took a seat on the couch, nodding to her gratefully as he sat down. He could tell that she was doing her best to make him comfortable, even if it wasn't really working, and he really did appreciate the gesture. She was sharp in many ways, poised and intense, meticulously organized, and he knew that he should have been intimidated, but if he got past the generalized anxiety of meeting a new person, a doctor person, a female person...he found that her overall demeanor was almost a relief.

He sat, leaning forward with his elbows against his knees, only to sit back and cross his arms as she sat down. Blue eyes fell to the mug in her hands and the file, which he knew had to be his file, and he began worrying his lower lip with his fingertips. He didn't really understand why she thought that tea was so stereotypical, but he remembered how Lita offered him water and Cherry Coke and...food, and realized that she might have meant that it was stereotypical to offer your patients a beverage at all in a session. His doctor said that she would not be offended if he turned it down, but he didn't really want to. He wanted her to know that he appreciated the gesture, so he raised his eyebrow and shook his head. "No, I mean...uhm, I would like that, actually. Tea sounds...uhhh...nice."

He tried to look up at her, to maintain some bit of eye contact, and he managed for a moment before scratching his eyebrows and running his fingers through his hair which had, for now, remained loose. Trying to build on her words about it being cold, he sort of grimaced his way into a half smile and titled his head a bit. "I uh....well, the cold is...uh, it's different. I mean, I've never been to....uhm, New England before, and it's just...uhm, strange to have...winter stuff..."

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allwaysmyways
2009-01-27 12:31 am UTC (link)

The reason she found the offer of tea to be ‘stereotypical’ was because every time someone heard her accent that automatically assumed that she drank tea, ate crumpets, and played croquet. It was horrible, that the only thing of those things she hadn’t done in her life was eat crumpets. Her mother had taught her the game of croquet what she was very young, but hadn’t played in quite some time.

But, really, that was completely irrelevant.

She gave him a nod of her head when he made his final decision about the drink that had been offered, waiting for him to finish speaking before she said, or did anything else. It was almost painful to watch him try to smile. The end result probably would have been quite pleasant if he didn’t make it look like it was a struggle just to lift up the corners of his mouth. Her own lips twisted to the side, once again nodding her head along with what he was saying before rising to her feet about the time he had said ‘New England’, moving over to the teapot that was sitting on a small tray nearby. She remained focused on him, even as she moved, only glancing away every now and again to make sure she was paying attention to what she was doing. “Yes, I suppose it would be rather strange to have…’winter stuff’, as you put it, if you haven’t ever experienced it before.” She continued to set up his drink for him, pausing before she looked back over to him.

“Before we go any further with this session, I would like to make things perfectly clear. I am sure that you’ve heard…quite a few things about me already; that I’m ‘mean’, or something of the sort. That particular adjective was pulled directly from the bulletin, after you made your introduction, so I don’t want you to think that I’m keeping tabs on your conversations. I know what lines I can not cross, and although it may not seem like it at times, you do have privacy here. Anything you may write in the journal that was provided to you when you arrived, however, is something I can, and will read. The purpose of the journals is to allow the doctors here to gain knowledge of how out patients are feeling, or thinking.” She finished fixing the tea, and placed a few cubes of sugar, and a packet of honey on the saucer as she walked it over to him, placing it down in front of him as she took her seat once again. Once more, she leaned forward, trying her best to lock her eyes with his.

“Often times, it is difficult for people to verbally convey what’s going on inside. I would like you to write whatever comes to mind, whenever you feel like you need to say something but don’t feel like you can. Don’t think of it as something for me, use it for your benefit. The only two people who will have access to that journal are Doctor Kino and I. No one else will be able to read it unless you let them.” She paused, and looked down, clearing her throat quietly. “I’m afraid I’ve gone off topic.” Once again she looked back at him. “The point I was trying to make earlier, is that I would appreciate it if you didn’t let the opinions of others get in the way of our sessions. You may agree with them at some point, but I’d like you to come to that decision on your own. My goal here is to help you, but I will not be able to do that unless you are willing to let me. These things take time, and I am not going to force you to speak about things unless you are ready to speak about them, but I will request that you speak. It can be about anything at all, but communication is very important. The smallest things, even if you may think that are insignificant, can mean so much.” Another small pause was taken. “And when you do speak, I would like to be able to hear you.”

When she was finished talking, she leaned back in her seat, folding her hands across her stomach. “I know that’s a lot to digest, but please, ask any questions you’d like. I’d be more than happy to answer them to the best of my ability.”

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powerplay
2009-01-27 06:59 pm UTC (link)

His words sounded ridiculous when she repeated them back to him, and he winced a little. 'Winter stuff,' that was ridiculous. He should have said snow, or wind, or ice, or whatever really, just anything but that. Still, his eyes stayed on her as she poured his tea, her movements and mannerisms precise, even with such a small task. It was so intriguing, almost mesmerizing.

When she started speaking again, he tried to maintain some sort of eye contact, tried not to be so nervous...and found it easier than he would have imagined. Her precise manner made her easy to understand, and somehow, it soothed the fraying ends of his very, very raw nerves. When she set everything down in front of him, he murmured, "Thank you..." very softly, tearing open the packet of honey and trying to formulate a response. He was relieved when she continued.

Stirring the honey into his tea, he alternated his gaze between her and the cup, trying to take in and digest everything it was that she was trying to tell him. Some might have found her blunt, abrupt words almost maddening. Some patients might have reacted badly to such a heavy handed communication, but Randy was not like other patients, generally speaking. He needed that structure, he needed that strength. Her own display of power, even just by being blunt, almost forceful, even just by being so precise; it calmed him. His heart beat slowed slightly, a little closer to normal, his fidgeting lessened ever so slightly, and as she continued, he had less and less of a problem focusing on her eyes. It wasn't something that was glaringly obvious, but Rose was a trained professional, she would be more than capable of seeing the tiny changes.

"I'll do that. All....all of it," he said, trying his best to speak up, and succeeding in some fashion. "Uhm...I never really...kept a journal before. I write letters...you know, to my mother, but uhm, not a journal. But I mean, you are my doctor and if you think it will...well, you know, help, I will do it." His brows furrowed slightly and he shook his head before continuing. "I don't...well, I mean, that one person said that you were mean, but I didn't believe her. I know I um....I probably seem really...uhh..." what to fill that blank with? Naive? Weak? Easily led? Admitting that much seemed terrifying around her. She was so strong. "Well, you know, gullible. Or something. Anyway, the point is that I'm not. I....judge things the way I see them. I mean, everyone sees things differently, right, so how can I trust what someone else says about you or....or anyone?"

Randy almost frightened himself with that sudden verbosity; blue eyes widened slightly and he sipped his tea too quickly, burned his tongue, and tried to look Normal for a moment and regain his composure. He set the tea to the side, tucked his hair behind his ears, and crossed his arms over his waist. Clearing his throat lightly and looking firmly to the side of her, he said, "I uh....I don't know that I have any questions immediately. Uhm. Maybe just...uhhh....I'm kind of worried about....the medication? I mean. I don't know, I just don't want to be...uh....catatonic. I'm sure that you know, uh, what you're doing but I'm just....uh...I don't want to feel that way..."

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