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Series: Broken World
Prompt: Therapy
Synopsis: He can't fix everything.
He notices the acrid stench of illness before she walks through the door. After she does, he can see its source burning in her skull. Before she says a word, he knows he can’t help her.
“Ms. Connor, thank you for coming in,” he says anyway. “Please take a seat.” He knows exactly what she’s going to say. Memory problems. Not just forgetting where the keys are, or why she walked into a room. That would be easy. No, she’s forgetting whole days. She’s waking up in the middle of dinner with a strange man not knowing how she got there. She’s started finding notes in her own handwriting that she doesn’t remember writing.
“I don’t know what to do, Mr. Zhao,” she concludes. By this point she’s distraught, hands trembling, tears pooling in her eyes. He nods sympathetically.
“Ms. Connor, have you considered seeing a neurologist?” he asks, his voice soft. She turns white. “M-my doctor Richie Martel, he said you could… fix things.” He shakes his head. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, nor would it be the last. Richard saw Ms. Connor struggling, knew that there was nothing he could do as a regular physician, knew how expensive the tests and treatments would be…
“I’m sorry, Ms. Connor, but I’m just a therapist,” he lies. “This sounds like a neurological condition. If you want a referral I know—“ He stops speaking when she stands up. Her face is still blotchy, but she composes her expression admirably.
“No, I don’t. Thank you for your time.” She whirls back towards the door and is gone just as quickly as she came in.
Jason Zhao finally lets himself breathe a deep sigh. He would have to pay Richard a visit and remind him of their agreement. Richard was a former patient of his. Paranoid schizophrenic with occasional moments of Cotard’s Delusion. Half of the time he thought everyone was trying to kill him; sometimes he thought they already had.
Jason had cured him.
He didn’t do it very often. People don’t just get over disorders like schizophrenia, after all. The last thing he wanted was the Registrar poking around. And then there are the people like Ms. Connor. People who will never understand. Jason can fix a number of things: Chemical imbalances, psychosomatic disorders, phobias, and sometimes addictions. He can look at a person and tell by the way their skull lights up whether they have mood disorders and compulsive habits. After thirty years of living with it, he’s even learned how to tell what types of thoughts some of the flashes indicate. Richard knew Jason could fix things, and he knew he had a patient who needed fixing.
Even Jason couldn’t fix Ms. Connor’s brain cancer.
Prompt: Therapy
Synopsis: He can't fix everything.
He notices the acrid stench of illness before she walks through the door. After she does, he can see its source burning in her skull. Before she says a word, he knows he can’t help her.
“Ms. Connor, thank you for coming in,” he says anyway. “Please take a seat.” He knows exactly what she’s going to say. Memory problems. Not just forgetting where the keys are, or why she walked into a room. That would be easy. No, she’s forgetting whole days. She’s waking up in the middle of dinner with a strange man not knowing how she got there. She’s started finding notes in her own handwriting that she doesn’t remember writing.
“I don’t know what to do, Mr. Zhao,” she concludes. By this point she’s distraught, hands trembling, tears pooling in her eyes. He nods sympathetically.
“Ms. Connor, have you considered seeing a neurologist?” he asks, his voice soft. She turns white. “M-my doctor Richie Martel, he said you could… fix things.” He shakes his head. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, nor would it be the last. Richard saw Ms. Connor struggling, knew that there was nothing he could do as a regular physician, knew how expensive the tests and treatments would be…
“I’m sorry, Ms. Connor, but I’m just a therapist,” he lies. “This sounds like a neurological condition. If you want a referral I know—“ He stops speaking when she stands up. Her face is still blotchy, but she composes her expression admirably.
“No, I don’t. Thank you for your time.” She whirls back towards the door and is gone just as quickly as she came in.
Jason Zhao finally lets himself breathe a deep sigh. He would have to pay Richard a visit and remind him of their agreement. Richard was a former patient of his. Paranoid schizophrenic with occasional moments of Cotard’s Delusion. Half of the time he thought everyone was trying to kill him; sometimes he thought they already had.
Jason had cured him.
He didn’t do it very often. People don’t just get over disorders like schizophrenia, after all. The last thing he wanted was the Registrar poking around. And then there are the people like Ms. Connor. People who will never understand. Jason can fix a number of things: Chemical imbalances, psychosomatic disorders, phobias, and sometimes addictions. He can look at a person and tell by the way their skull lights up whether they have mood disorders and compulsive habits. After thirty years of living with it, he’s even learned how to tell what types of thoughts some of the flashes indicate. Richard knew Jason could fix things, and he knew he had a patient who needed fixing.
Even Jason couldn’t fix Ms. Connor’s brain cancer.
