Beryl was stressed. When he’d first put in for the lateral transfer from medical to command, he’d been excited. New adventure! New challenges! He’d dived head first into his new career, and it had been rewarding. The challenge of leading others, often directing tasks he had no experience with himself, was great for personal growth.
As the months had gone by, however, doubt had started to creep in. Was he throwing away his years of medical training? Was he doing it for a good reason? Beryl thought these were good questions to ask, but he wasn’t sure how to answer them… Which is why he was sitting in his quarters, fiddling with the pips on his collar while counting down the minutes before his counseling session. Beryl wasn’t averse to counseling – any good doctor knows mental health is just as important as physical health – but he’d never been before.
When the antique analog clock on his wall finally ticked to 1355, he stood, forced his hands to his sides, and walked out the door. Beryl made his way down to the medical deck, and after asking a passing yeoman for directions, managed to locate the office of Luna Black. Smoothing his uniform jacket one last time, he pressed the door chime and waited.
Lieutenant Luna Black had not long been aboard the base, fresh from a transfer from a Nebula class ship. If one of the largest ships in the fleet hadn’t been imposing enough for the young and rather shy Counselor, the Star base and its associated facilities were huge and on an as-yet unexperienced scale. She was attempting to organise but so far her ducks were more like cats. In a row they were not. Still, her first appointment had arrived. Flutters of anticipation flew from her chest to her lips, her stammer stealing the word ‘come’ from her mouth. She crossed to the door and with a quick look in the adjacent mirror pressed the release manually.
“L… Lieutenant Hammond?” She asked.
Beryl dropped his gaze slightly to meet the eyes of the young counselor in front of him. He didn’t recognize her, but then again, the starbase was basically a city. It would be foolish to expect to know every face one passes in the hallway.
“Yes, that’s me. I know I’m in uniform, but Beryl is fine. Unless it’s not fine? Because I’m a patient? I defer to your judgement in the matter.” Beryl suddenly felt foolish for not knowing the protocol here. “May I come in?”
Luna managed a nod before she could get the words out. “Yes, please come in,” she said with what she hoped was a reassuring smile and moved into the space giving Beryl space to come inside. “I’m Luna, or Lieutenant Black, or Counselor, I suggest we call each other whatever you’re most comfortable with.”
The Counseling office wasn’t huge, being just the right size to house two couches facing one-another with a rectangular coffee table in between and two chairs at each end of the coffee table with three feet or so of space around the whole setup. Beyond the seating was a small office space in the single room marked off by a desk propping up a computer terminal. To the left of the desk as one sat at it was a replicator. There were a couple of large (and probably fake) plants in corners, but otherwise things we’re currently a tad spartan.
Beryl stepped inside the office, taking a look around. Looking to the counselor, he gestured towards one of the chairs with a questioning glance, then took a seat.
“Well. This is my first time seeing a counselor. I think I know what I want to discuss, but where do I begin?” Beryl watched Lieutenant Black’s face, hoping for some guidance.
She sat on one of the couches, not opposite him, but not next to him either. Opposite would create an unconscious suggestion of adversary while next-to would be too familiar, not giving Beryl space. Luna clutched the P.A.D.D. she held to her knee and, scooping her hair over one ear nervously considered the question.
“B…. before we begin,” she started, “can I um, can I just take a second to cover the elephant in the room, otherwise I think it’ll be distracting. I will stammer? A bit? Um, just ignore it, it’ll go away in… … in… in time. Just please try not to finish a sentence for me if I get stuck.” Luna smiled slightly, trying to indicate that she didn’t feel insecure about this or anything else by making light of it, which of course was absolutely untrue. She did, that was part of the source of the stammer, but her patients didn’t need to know that. “As for where to begin, um, I usually ask what it was that prompted you to make an appointment with a counselor? C… can you tell me what took what it is you want to talk about from being something you are happy to deal with on your own to something you want to talk about? Oh and um, would you like a drink?”
Dammit. She should have asked about the drink first. Luna chastised herself inside for the error and hoped it wouldn’t detract from Beryl’s exposition.
Beryl nodded curtly when the counselor mentioned the stammer. “Of course. With regards to the drink, I’m fine thank you.” He took a moment to then consider her other question. “I do normally prefer to resolve personal matters myself, but in this case, I find myself second guessing myself. Wow that was a lot of ‘myself’s.” Beryl rolled his eyes.
“I’m sure you saw in my file that I recently hung up my medical frock in exchange for a red uniform. At the time, I made the decision because I wanted to pursue a new challenge, and explore new frontiers, so to speak. The thing is, while I enjoy medicine and healing, it was never truly my passion. Not the way it was for my parents. I was good at it, but it wasn’t… enough, I guess.” Beryl frowned. Saying that out loud made him feel a bit ashamed, for some reason.
Luna shifted slightly in her seat. Her P.A.D.D. ended up clutched around her midriff, it was a mannerism often conducted with cushions and it was subconsciously a defence, a literal covering of the more sensitive parts of her body from attack. It showed she was nervous. Luna put the P.A.D.D. down on the coffee table to stop herself from doing it. She needed to give off open body language.
“I um, I don’t want to sound like I’m giving false praise because you are concerned, but genuinely being able to pinpoint that your vocation was not your passion and having the courage to change your path after being on a certain road for a while is… is admirable.”
“Well, as much as I do enjoy my new career track, I’ve been starting to question my decision. Was it the right one? Was it wrong of me to basically throw away all the work I put into medical school? After all, let’s be honest, I’m not currently changing any lives by running shifts in the cargo bay. At least as a doctor, I was literally saving lives.”
Luna nodded, it was something she tried not to do too much. It was easy to nod along with a patient and get a bad neck after a few sessions.
“Um, okay that’s true, you were,” Luna confirmed. “Being a medic or… or a doctor is the most immediate way of helping someone I can think of. I think um, there are a few different ways that your situation can be looked at? But b… before we get to that, can you put your finger on why you might be challenging your decision? Are there any outside influences, did someone, a friend family or colleague comment on it? Any particular events that caused you to reflect on your change of career?”
Beryl unclenched his hands. Apparently, saying the words out loud was making him tense. “Well, become a doctor was my parents’ dream for me. So, maybe that thought has been popping up as sort of leave it behind? I mean I don’t plan on abandoning medicine. I’ll keep up to date on techniques, perform my check procedures…” Beryl stopped, as that wasn’t the point. “Maybe it’s a combination of that, and the fact that the fleet just went through a major crisis. And what did I do? I oversaw the industrial replicators making supplies. I changed careers to pursue a passion, but then when the shit hit the fan – sorry – when it was time to make a difference, I wasn’t in a position to do anything meaningful.”
Luna’s large, blue eyes blinked a couple of times as she considered Beryl’s testament.
“I can see how you’d arrive there given what’s happened, it’s an understandable response,” she started. She could attempt to argue that rebuilding was as important as helping the injured and that Beryl was still contributing something important, but he seemed too clever to buy that just because someone else said it, especially someone like her. Luna’s own disrespect for herself meant she figured Beryl wouldn’t respect her opinion either, regardless of how true or untrue that might be. If she had to characterise what she thought Beryl was feeling it was guilt. She went back into her training and considered the stages of getting over guilt and rooted out what may be applicable to Beryl in this situation. She decided to go for the low-hanging fruit first, hopefully that’d build trust for the next part of the session.
“You mentioned that your p… p…” skip onto the P, Luna “…a-parents are doctors, have you asked them what they think of your change of career?”
Beryl sighed. He knew he’d have to field a question about his parents the moment he mentioned them, but it didn’t make it any easier. “I cannot. They passed a few years back.” Beryl stifled a bitter chuckle. “It was literally right before I was supposed to get my first post as a Starfleet officer. I took a leave of absence and went home to care for my sister. How’s that for a classic sob story?” Beryl shook his head at himself. He didn’t want to be ‘that guy.’
“I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how that feels,” Luna responded truthfully. “I… I would ask if you got on well but I think that would be a tangent that’s maybe not relevant here?”
“I suspect, if they were still around, they’d generally support me, but semi-regularly pester me about getting back to medicine. Still though, I’ve considered this a lot, and I don’t think it’s a matter of letting them down. Can’t be that easy, can it? I dunno. What do you think, doc?” Beryl looked up at the counselor expectantly. This was way more heart-to-heart than he was used to, but this is what he came for. A guide to help him navigate the emotions that were keeping him up at night.
“Um, there’s a few things I think could be contributing?” Luna started. She was acutely aware of being called ‘Doc’, which is something she wasn’t, technically speaking. She’d het to that once she’d (hopefully) gained some of Beryl’s confidence by proving she knew something about psychiatry and counseling. She looked at him as intently as she could, although she did find prolonged facial contact difficult.
“I… think… you probably feel the weight of their expectations, and, um, not knowing what they would say b… b… b…”
Dammit
Luna stopped, took a breath and hopped onto the B.
“…uhbecause you can’t ask them makes pinpointing the exact reason tricky but, I think it’s as much related to the crisis you said the fleet went through. I’m new here I’m not sure exactly which one you’re referring to. But that might escalate your feelings of uncertainty. I don’t want to put words in your mouth so… so tell me what you think of this. Is it possible that because of this crisis you feel guilty? There’s a chance you might blame yourself for part of what happened because you chose to leave a profession that could have helped people in an immediately tangible way in the aftermath.”
Luna took another breath, a momentary pause before continuing.
“It may be scary to think that our own choices can’t fully protect us from bad things happening. By believing that things would have been better if we’d done something different, we gain a sense of power over unwanted outcomes, which makes us feel secure. That and um, the uncertainty of what your parents would have thought of your new profession, of your turning away from what they wanted for you, it’s understandable you’d have doubts. We always want our parents approval even if it’s not aligned with what we want as individuals.”
Even me, she thought, and I can’t stand my parents.
Luna shifted on the couch, getting more nervous about what Beryl would say to this. He seemed quite self assured.
“Does that sound plausible?” She asked.
To be continued