Who: Leon Felder and Vivian Yahni What: Dr. Felder is getting ready for his last appointment of the day. When: Friday, March 20th, 4:00pm Where: Dr. Felder’s Private Practice Rating: PG for now. Status: Complete
Leon was sitting in his office, writing some comments on a patient’s file. He had recently made the move to predominantly electronic files, but he couldn’t bring himself to convert completely. There were just some things he didn’t want in the computer system, however secure it was. And his job didn’t feel the same when he was behind a computer. Instead, he took handwritten notes and submitted his own annotated version into the computer. After writing his final comments and making a note about possible future treatments for the patient, Leon closed the file and leaned back in his chair.
It was nearly four-o’clock. His last patient of the day would be there any moment. In the background, he had Yo Yo Ma’s rendition of Gabriel’s Oboe playing faintly. Despite two cancellations that day, he felt unusually tense. His affiliation with the Medina case made him feel as though he was a walking target for DHS, and the last thing he wanted was to be brought under their scrutiny. Damn his decision to work with Medina at the Adjustment Center. He couldn’t leave him hanging, though – he cared too much.
Leon also had the feeling that the reason for his dwindling patients was this growing fear that little comments in a psychiatrist’s file could eventually cost them a future marriage with children. He wasn’t concerned about his practice – he was concerned about Patricia Zilker, who had severe depression, for which she was medicated. At her last session, she had told him she was going off of her medication: “I’m eighteen. I want children and I want a family. I want to know that I can look forward to that. I need to distance myself from all of this.” He had attempted to argue with her, but she wouldn’t have it. How could he blame her? He had his own questions about whether he’d eventually be paired off – whether his own problems would come to light at the wrong time.
Five after four. He buzzed into his secretary to see if his patient was there, or if he was to expect a no-show. No one yet.