Extreme Medical Services: Medical Care On The Fringes Of Humanity (14 page)

   
“I guess if I was a cop,” Dean said. “I would get desk duty for a few days.”

   
“And that is an option,” Mike offered. “I’m here to talk to you so that together we can come up with an option that works for you. You should know that Lydia, the Siren you ran into, will not be bothering folks that way anymore.”

   
Dean looked up. “You didn’t …?”

   
“No,” Mike laughed. “We didn’t bump her off or anything. We don’t work that way. She’s new in town so we had some folks stop by and have a chat with her and her husband. Did Brynne tell you about the special Unusuals police unit?” Dean nodded and Mike continued. “We work with a few select police officers. There’s at least one on every shift. They stopped by and explained to Lydia the way things work here. Not every place has the services we provide. Most Unusuals have to protect themselves from the humans they live among as best they can. Think of their powers and abilities as a sort of defense mechanism that helps them survive alongside us.”

   
“Brynne also contacted Rudolf,” Dean said. “She had his number from James to help deal with problems if they came up. The way she talked, they handle these things internally.”

   
“They do,” Mike agreed. “Still, Brynne needs to take things through official channels. Her relationship with James doesn’t give her the right to go around her supervisors when something like this comes up. I guess I need to have a chat with her about that. We contacted Rudolf, too, since we knew James was out of town.”

   
“I just don’t know what led Lydia to do what she did to me,” Dean said. “We were there to help her. Why did she turn on us?”

   
“It’s like I told you back in school when we were talking about drunks and drug abusers,” Mike said. “You can’t know what drives them to be the way they are and because of that you have to be careful to treat them with the same compassion as you’d give any other patient. You can’t get mad at them or try to take revenge on them on behalf of society.”

   
“I remember that lecture,” Dean said. “You used that old Native American proverb about not criticizing people until you had walked a mile in their moccasins.”

   
“Good,” Mike said, smiling. “I’m glad you remember. That’s part of the lesson here. I don’t pretend that what this Lydia did wasn’t bad. She was wrong and we have dealt with her both officially and unofficially through Rudolf. The part of the job you have is to try and understand is why she might be driven to manipulate you that way. What happened to her in the past that made her not trust the medical system or people associated with the government? Does that make sense? It doesn’t forgive what she did. It does try and explain the why, understand?” Dean nodded. “Good, because the food’s here.”

   
Dean turned and looked over his shoulder to see Daisy approaching with a large round tray balanced on one hand and steadied with the other. She lowered the tray and let one edge rest on the table. She set the plates in front of them. The food smelled delicious and Dean’s stomach growled.

   
“Wow,” Daisy said with a chuckle. “Was that you?”
 

   
He laughed, too. “I guess I’m hungry!”

   
“Well, you came to the right place,” She said. “I’ll check back on you in a few minutes.”
 

   
Mike and Dean ate in silence for the next few minutes. Mike was right, the food was excellent and there was something about breaking bread with his old instructor that helped settle his fears a bit. It was a reminder that life was still going on around him. Before he knew it, he was finished with the meal, literally cleaning off his plate of the last remnants of the delicious gravy with a piece of toast.
 

   
“I told you it was good,” Mike said. “Do you feel better?”

   
“I do,” Dean said. “Thanks, Mike.”

   
“No problem,” Mike said. “We can do this again. Anytime you need to, just call me. Okay?”

   
“Deal,” Dean said. “Though I hope this kind of thing doesn’t happen too often.”

   
“Look, Dean,” Mike said. “This is a critical incident. It could happen to anyone whether you’re a regular medic or work in EMS-U. The unusual circumstances surrounding your situation don’t matter as much as the fact that you had a traumatic event. It could have been the death of a sick kid, or a bad motor vehicle accident. We all have triggers that can affect us out of the blue. When that happens our job is to seek out the help we need. We can’t stop these things from affecting us in the moment or immediately afterwards, but we can control how we respond to those effects. You’ve got my support, Brynne’s and your other co-workers as well as a whole support network of people like your new counselor, Rebecca. Use that support to get your feet back under you.”

   
Mike dropped a few bills on the table. “Come on, I’ll drive you back to your car so you can get some sleep.”

   
As Dean drove home later, he thought about the conversation and realized he was no longer pondering what he did or didn’t do to cause the situation the previous night. He wasn’t blaming himself as much. He figured that was part of what Mike was trying to achieve with their breakfast conversation. He would have to bring that up with Rebecca when he saw her in two days.
 

   
Two days after the incident with Lydia, the Siren, he met Rebecca in person. Her offices were downtown in a high-rise suite. He parked in the underground garage and opted to walk up the stairs to the lobby rather than to use the elevator, as was his habit. He was a little anxious about the meeting. He wondered again if his reaction was a sign of weakness. He knew intellectually that it was not, but there was still a part of him that wondered about his own inner strength.
 

   
Once in the lobby, he found the building directory on the wall next to a bank of elevators. He saw the name he was looking for, CISM Solutions, located on the 7th floor. When the elevator arrived he waved to let the others enter first and then stepped on, asking the man nearest to the panel of buttons push the seventh floor for him.

   
He was thinking about what he would talk about with Rebecca as the elevator car stopped at the third, fourth and fifth floors before arriving at seven. He stepped off the elevator into the hallway. The sign for CISM Solutions was next to the second door on the right. He walked over to it and walked inside.
 

The waiting room was empty, and there was no one at the reception window when he entered. He wrote his name and time of arrival on the clipboard; then he sat down in one of the four chairs lining one wall next to a coffee table with a few scattered magazines on it. He saw two recent EMS magazines. He opted to browse his phone social media feed while he waited to be called. He could hear the murmur of voices behind the wooden door across the room from where he sat. The soft music from the speakers in the overhead ceiling kept him from understanding anything that was said, which was the point, he supposed.

   
After about ten minutes of waiting the door opened, and a man and a woman came out. “I’ll email you a reminder about your next appointment, Ian,” a woman said.
 

   
“Thanks, Rebecca,” the man said. “I’ll be there.” He walked to the exit and left.

   
“You must be Dean,” the woman said extending her hand. “I’m Rebecca.” She was a lot younger than he expected. Maybe in her mid to late twenties. She had shoulder length red hair, wore a navy blue woman’s business suit and slacks with a white blouse. She had some jewelry on but not much. Dean stood up and shook her hand.

   
“Uh, yes, I am,” he said. “I guess I’m in the right place.”

   
“Come on back, Dean,” she said, smiling. “Let’s go into my office and get to know one another for a bit.” Rebecca led the way to the door and gestured for him to enter first. There was a desk and desk chair in one corner next to a window as well as a small love seat and chair combination with an end table in the corner between them. There was a box of tissues on the table. He paused for a moment when he saw that. God he hoped he didn’t end up needing that.
 

   
“Go ahead and have a seat anywhere, Dean,” she said as she sat down in the chair at the desk.

   
He sat in the cushioned chair rather than the love seat. He looked around the room at diplomas and credentials on the wall. The proof, he supposed, that she was qualified to do this job. She turned and picked up a file from the desk and laid it on her lap as she opened it. “I think I have all your information here, and I have my notes from our call the other night. I want to remind you that this is confidential. You also don’t have to worry about them finding out about anything we talk about here. The only thing I’m obligated to report is whether you might need reassignment or a change of pace for some reason. Also, you should know that the visit is covered by your employer so you don’t have to worry about paying.”
 

   
“Okay,” Dean said. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

   
“It is,” Rebecca said with a smile. “I notice that you were assigned to Station U right out of school. That’s quite an honor. It usually means your chief and instructors thought highly of you.”

   
“I wasn’t sure what to think when I first got there,” Dean said. “I didn’t know what to expect, but it’s been okay.”

   
“I know quite a bit about the subject of Unusuals, as you call us Dean, so you can speak freely here,” Rebecca said. She laughed as he looked up with surprise at her admission. “I’m a Muse, Dean. Traditionally we inspire artists and musicians to create, but I found that I could use my talents a bit differently. Because of my connection I can help people use their creative minds to see many different potentials. In an artist, that potential is what could be wrought from a block of marble or put on a blank canvas. I like to inspire people to be better people, to see what they could potentially become and then help them live up to that potential.”

   
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you using some kind of mojo on me,” Dean said, holding his hands up in front of him. “That’s what has me coming here in the first place.”

   
“Oh my goodness, no,” she said with a little giggle. “Muses don’t work that way. I can’t do anything to you at all. Let’s just say that as we talk, I will see answers and options that may not occur to you, and I’ll bring them up to see if they resonate with you. Eventually, we’ll find a way to resolve what is bothering you. But, in the end, it all comes from you. Muses help people become the better person that is hidden inside them. It all comes from within. Does that make sense?”

   
“Uh, I guess so.” Dean still wasn’t sure he was comfortable having his counselor be an Unusual.

   
“Look, let’s make a deal,” Rebecca proposed. “We’ll talk for an hour or so. Afterward, if you think it will work out between us, great. We can keep working together. If you’re still uncomfortable, no worries there, either. I can easily transfer your file to another counselor. The advantage of having me as your counselor is that we can talk freely about some of the things you encounter. You won’t have to beat around the bush about your patients’ strange abilities or habits. How does that sound?”

   
“I guess that’s fair,” Dean said.

   
“Excellent.” She smiled. “So, let’s talk a bit about what happened with the Siren the other night. You’ve had a few days to get some perspective and think about it. Tell me how you feel about it now.”

   
Dean did most of the talking and Rebecca asked occasional questions. The hour was up before he knew it. He wasn’t sorry he came, and he wished he could stay and talk with her longer.
 

   
“So, Dean,” Rebecca said as she put his folder down on the desk behind her. “I think this was productive but more importantly, what do you think? Shall we continue or would you like me to help you find someone else to talk with?”

   
“I guess we can keep working together, Rebecca,” Dean said. “This wasn’t that bad.”

   
She laughed. “I’m glad it wasn’t horrible.”

   
He smiled back at her. “Yeah, it wasn’t horrible.”

   
“Let’s meet up again in a week,” she offered, pulling out a tablet computer and tapping on it. “What is your schedule like next week on Tuesday evening?”

   
Dean pulled out his smartphone and checked his schedule. “I’m back on days starting on Monday so I’m off at six.”

   
“Excellent,” she said. “I’ll put you down for seven that night. And remember that if you need to talk sooner you can call and we can find a time to squeeze you in before then. Do you need me to write that time on appointment card or do you have it on your phone?”

   
“I’ve got it,” Dean said as he finished tapping in the information on his calendar app. He stood up. He really did feel better. “I guess this wasn’t as bad as I’d feared.”

   
“Well that’s good, Dean,” Rebecca said. “It may not always be completely painless, but together we can sort this out for you. I’ll help you get you back into a place where you won’t question or second guess yourself.” She stood and opened the door for him. As Dean walked out, he saw that the next person was in the office already, waiting to go in.
 

   
“Thanks, Rebecca,” he said as he walked into the waiting area. “I’ll see you next week.”

   
She nodded at him and walked over to the woman waiting in the chairs. Dean let himself out and waited at the elevator to go back down to his truck. Mike had told him to keep an open mind and that he wouldn’t mind the counseling, and his old mentor was right. Rebecca had lightened the load on his mind. He still had questions, but he no longer feared that he wouldn’t find the answers. Rebecca the Muse had inspired him to start believing in himself and trust in his own abilities again. He could do this.