Thread: Hysteria  [Father & Forbidden]

My God what had happened to this poor woman? Surely he had not expected things to be in this state of disrepair. When he had entered the waiting room to bring her back she had seemed almost to be in a fugue state of sorts, completely disconnected from what was happening around her with barely the semblance of an ability to respond to the stimulus of the world. She may not have understood what was happening, she was hardly lucid, and so he guided her into his small office with a light touch on her arm...afraid to actually reach out to do anything that might set off a response. Often they warned you about touching a patient, yet he had discarded it several times in his professional career. Physical touch was something that most human beings needed, and as long as you were not taking advantage of them. As long as you were not causing them pain and suffering through your actions, then more often than not it was very appreciated. If the world they lived in was not so frightened of the offenders hidden in the corners, then he would recommended massage and touch therapy to practically everyone struggling with non-violent mental difficulties. He shook his head as he escorted her in and she took a seat, and for once in his life he was trying to ignore the looks of his patient. He'd had his fair share of a beautiful woman sitting in his office. Had his few moments of appreciation for someone who was lovely, yet hers was a mingle sadness and beauty, making it even more painful to see in another human being. Her uncertainty, her shame, her pain was easy to see....and combined with the pertness of her chest and the show of pale flesh, the way her jeans tightened on her legs as she sat back and adjusted herself. It took his breath away and he merely watched her before once again shaking his head and setting it in the back of his mind. No matter how he felt he had one job, and one job only, and that was to help her through this trial in her life. He knew though he had to be careful, it served nothing yet to make her face that pain, instead he needed to draw her out into trusting him and more than that...trusting herself once more. He watched as she moved, as she began to massage herself and he understood that the stimulus was part of what helped her manage, helped her bring herself back into line with the world. It was not uncommon for individuals to do so, in fact that was exactly why the autistic engaged in stimming patterns in order to help them focus properly, and he said nothing to stop her doing so. Instead he gave a small nod of his head, not smiling at her words...there was no need to be reassuring, this was serious and deserved him treating her properly...like an adult and not something broken. So he moved a small seat over, a footstool really, so that he could sit within a few feed of her. It was something no Doctor had done with her, it was the kind of closeness that a friend might have...someone truly intent on her story, and his face was somber and quiet as he began to speak. Heidi..., he said, his voice low and lulling. I know you've got that litany down pat don't you. Everyone wants to know...what you did and how you're feeling. Everyone wants to ask...what is wrong with you. That's not what I want to ask you. He didn't touch her, he merely scooted closer and placed his hands on his knees as his eyes sought hers. What I want to know...is what is right with you. What have you been doing recently, what do you enjoy doing...does anything make you smile...does anything help you focus on the here and now?