Bestest Buddy Chapter 13: Therapy
Bestest Buddy Chapter 13: Therapy
(a really short update)
Elaine Wardner finished her last coffee of the day and picked up the folder for her second-to-last patient. It was Wednesday, so she was seeing one of her favorites, little David House. David was a sweet little eight-year-old musical prodigy who was recovering from post-traumatic stress disorder.
Elaine loved cases like these, ones that responded so readily to treatment. David had been removed from the trauma long before he’d set foot in her office. He had a wealth of resources at his disposal: his parents, two doctors - both men - were attentive and loving, and they had the financial resources to support his recovery. The boy was bright, too, which went a long way towards his healing rapidly. It didn’t hurt that David was cute, and had an attractive little personality. It was a shame, but Elaine knew that people often went out of their way to help kids like that, while other needy little ones with buck teeth, or weight problems, or crappy attitudes went on wanting. Still, she enjoyed her time with David. It was a slight indulgence, and it would be brief. She’d seen David all summer, and he’d done so well that she was about to start tapering him off to every other week. By Christmas, it would be once a month.
“Dr. Wardner, David House is here.” It was Carlina, her receptionist on the intercom.
“On my way.” She brushed her fingers through her short salt-and-pepper hair and removed her reading glasses, then pushed through her office door to the reception area.
David was sitting on the waiting room sofa with his dad, James Wilson. Sometimes the other dad came along instead, or with them, depending on which one was available, and where they were in David’s treatment plan.
“Hello, David!” She greeted the boy with a smile. “Dr. Wilson, nice to see you again.”
Dr. Wilson stood up. He was such a gentleman - not like the other dad, who probably would have remained seated even if he didn’t have a bad leg. Elaine believed that Dr. Wilson would have managed to stand if he’d been confined to a wheelchair. Wilson was easy on the eyes, too. Such a shame that all that beauty and good manners were wasted on Dr. House, who was a bit of a snarky bastard.
“Hi, Dr. Elaine,” David said shyly. He always started out a bit bashful with her, but warmed up quickly. By the end of his session, the boy was usually chattering away as if they were old friends. Elaine usually started kids like David off with play, just to break the ice.
“We’ll be about thirty minutes, Dr. Wilson,” she informed David ‘nice’ dad, “Then I’ll have you come and join us for a bit, okay?”
“Oh, sure.” Wilson pulled out his Blackberry. “I’ll catch up on my email.”
“So, David…” Dr. Wardner sat down in a beanbag chair opposite the boy. “How did things go this week?”
The little boy looked down at his red sneakers. He’d put them on after school, Elaine surmised, because they weren’t what he usually wore with his school uniform. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
So she moved over to the toy box. “What would you like to play with?”
David joined her near the box. He pushed his wire-framed glasses up on his nose and rummaged dutifully through the toys. “You got any action figures?” He asked.
“Action figures?” Elaine knew what they were, but she wanted to know why David was suddenly interested in playing with one.
David shrugged. “My fr… This boy in my class, Sammy? He came over to my house on Saturday to play.”
This was good news. David had spent so much of his young life in isolation, particularly from other children, that he now struggled with widening his social circle. “You had a play date? That’s super!”
David frowned at that. “I don’t go on dates,” he explained patiently. “I’m only eight.”
Elaine suppressed a chuckle. “I know, David. But I’m not talking about that kind of date. A ‘play date’ is when your parents plan to get you together with other children to play. Just as you did last weekend with Sammy.”
“Oh.”
“So you had your friend over?”
“Yeah, and he brought action figures. He likes Spiderman.” David clarified. “We played Secret-Agent Spiderman, mostly. That’s a game we made up.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah.” David started stacking Legos in his usual boring pattern. Sets of eight, stacked diagonally with the last one yellow or red, instead of white. “Building scales” was what he called his game. Sometimes he reoriented one of the little plastic blocks so that it looked like an odd chink in the ‘fence’ he was building. Sometimes other blocks stuck out oddly, too. “Oh, that’s just an accidental,” David would explain. Elaine had a tin ear, and had given up her clarinet lessons after the first two months when she was around David’s age. So she had no idea what the little prodigy was talking about.
“Sounds like you’ve made a new friend,” the therapist observed.
Shrugging, David gathered up some more white Legos in his right hand. “Wilson says that, too. But I’m not sure yet.” He peered at the woman, and confessed, “I don’t know how to tell.”
Poor baby. The companionship of other children was a novelty and a luxury for David, and now the child was clueless.
“Takes time,” she said, keeping her tone in ‘matter-of-fact’ mode. “You have three friends already, remember?”
He nodded. “Daddy, Wilson, and Lisa.”
“And how did you know they were your friends?”
David fiddled with the two white blocks that remained in his hand. “Well… Daddy helped me when I got in a fight one day…. Then he let me live with him when he saw that she… she had left me. Aaaannnd… we do music together. Lots of reasons. He takes care of me. And so does Wilson. They …love me. So does Lisa.”
“Did you know they were your friends right away? Could you trust them completely?”
David thought about that long and hard. He started building again, but it was clear that he was working on the answer to Dr. Elaine’s question. After another “scale,” David turned his big green eyes back to hers. “No. I trusted them a little bit at a time.”
Dr. Elaine nodded. “That how it usually goes.”
The boy’s eyebrows raised a little. “Really?”
“Yep. But you’re on the right track.”
David sighed. “That could take forever.”
“Forever? You really think so?” Elaine prompted. “Reality check, David.”
The little boy’s shoulders slumped as he sighed softly. “I didn’t trust Daddy and Wilson all the way until this summer, and I’ve known them for almost a year!”
“But now you know them, and they’re your friends.”
“But I want to have a bestest buddy now,” the boy insisted. “I’ll be nine-and-a-half before I have another new friend.”
‘Poor little guy,’ Dr. Wardner thought to herself. “A ‘bestest buddy?’” She asked.
“Yeah, like Daddy and Wilson.” Then he amended, “Well, not like Daddy and Wilson now, with all the kissing and stuff, but like they were before they fell in love. Best friends. I want to have a best friend.”
“I understand.”
“But I have to wait,” David sighed, still crestfallen.
Smiling gently, Dr. Wardner attempted to shore up David’s mood. “It does take time, but you know, David, all during that time, you’ll be getting to know Sammy. And hopefully other children, too.”
“I only need one bestest buddy,” he corrected.
That was just too cute. Dr. Wardner bit the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling. “Well, you might not want to put all your eggs in one basket, David. It’s probably a better idea to get to know a lot of people - otherwise, you might miss out on meeting someone really nice.”
He sighed again, then started disassembling the blocks. “Time to get Wilson,” David reminded her. Elaine smiled gently. This was all the indication she would get that David wasn’t happy with what she was saying. Poor little fellow.
“Time to get Wilson,” she echoed. She buzzed her receptionist while David put away the Legos.
(a really short update)
Elaine Wardner finished her last coffee of the day and picked up the folder for her second-to-last patient. It was Wednesday, so she was seeing one of her favorites, little David House. David was a sweet little eight-year-old musical prodigy who was recovering from post-traumatic stress disorder.
Elaine loved cases like these, ones that responded so readily to treatment. David had been removed from the trauma long before he’d set foot in her office. He had a wealth of resources at his disposal: his parents, two doctors - both men - were attentive and loving, and they had the financial resources to support his recovery. The boy was bright, too, which went a long way towards his healing rapidly. It didn’t hurt that David was cute, and had an attractive little personality. It was a shame, but Elaine knew that people often went out of their way to help kids like that, while other needy little ones with buck teeth, or weight problems, or crappy attitudes went on wanting. Still, she enjoyed her time with David. It was a slight indulgence, and it would be brief. She’d seen David all summer, and he’d done so well that she was about to start tapering him off to every other week. By Christmas, it would be once a month.
“Dr. Wardner, David House is here.” It was Carlina, her receptionist on the intercom.
“On my way.” She brushed her fingers through her short salt-and-pepper hair and removed her reading glasses, then pushed through her office door to the reception area.
David was sitting on the waiting room sofa with his dad, James Wilson. Sometimes the other dad came along instead, or with them, depending on which one was available, and where they were in David’s treatment plan.
“Hello, David!” She greeted the boy with a smile. “Dr. Wilson, nice to see you again.”
Dr. Wilson stood up. He was such a gentleman - not like the other dad, who probably would have remained seated even if he didn’t have a bad leg. Elaine believed that Dr. Wilson would have managed to stand if he’d been confined to a wheelchair. Wilson was easy on the eyes, too. Such a shame that all that beauty and good manners were wasted on Dr. House, who was a bit of a snarky bastard.
“Hi, Dr. Elaine,” David said shyly. He always started out a bit bashful with her, but warmed up quickly. By the end of his session, the boy was usually chattering away as if they were old friends. Elaine usually started kids like David off with play, just to break the ice.
“We’ll be about thirty minutes, Dr. Wilson,” she informed David ‘nice’ dad, “Then I’ll have you come and join us for a bit, okay?”
“Oh, sure.” Wilson pulled out his Blackberry. “I’ll catch up on my email.”
“So, David…” Dr. Wardner sat down in a beanbag chair opposite the boy. “How did things go this week?”
The little boy looked down at his red sneakers. He’d put them on after school, Elaine surmised, because they weren’t what he usually wore with his school uniform. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
So she moved over to the toy box. “What would you like to play with?”
David joined her near the box. He pushed his wire-framed glasses up on his nose and rummaged dutifully through the toys. “You got any action figures?” He asked.
“Action figures?” Elaine knew what they were, but she wanted to know why David was suddenly interested in playing with one.
David shrugged. “My fr… This boy in my class, Sammy? He came over to my house on Saturday to play.”
This was good news. David had spent so much of his young life in isolation, particularly from other children, that he now struggled with widening his social circle. “You had a play date? That’s super!”
David frowned at that. “I don’t go on dates,” he explained patiently. “I’m only eight.”
Elaine suppressed a chuckle. “I know, David. But I’m not talking about that kind of date. A ‘play date’ is when your parents plan to get you together with other children to play. Just as you did last weekend with Sammy.”
“Oh.”
“So you had your friend over?”
“Yeah, and he brought action figures. He likes Spiderman.” David clarified. “We played Secret-Agent Spiderman, mostly. That’s a game we made up.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah.” David started stacking Legos in his usual boring pattern. Sets of eight, stacked diagonally with the last one yellow or red, instead of white. “Building scales” was what he called his game. Sometimes he reoriented one of the little plastic blocks so that it looked like an odd chink in the ‘fence’ he was building. Sometimes other blocks stuck out oddly, too. “Oh, that’s just an accidental,” David would explain. Elaine had a tin ear, and had given up her clarinet lessons after the first two months when she was around David’s age. So she had no idea what the little prodigy was talking about.
“Sounds like you’ve made a new friend,” the therapist observed.
Shrugging, David gathered up some more white Legos in his right hand. “Wilson says that, too. But I’m not sure yet.” He peered at the woman, and confessed, “I don’t know how to tell.”
Poor baby. The companionship of other children was a novelty and a luxury for David, and now the child was clueless.
“Takes time,” she said, keeping her tone in ‘matter-of-fact’ mode. “You have three friends already, remember?”
He nodded. “Daddy, Wilson, and Lisa.”
“And how did you know they were your friends?”
David fiddled with the two white blocks that remained in his hand. “Well… Daddy helped me when I got in a fight one day…. Then he let me live with him when he saw that she… she had left me. Aaaannnd… we do music together. Lots of reasons. He takes care of me. And so does Wilson. They …love me. So does Lisa.”
“Did you know they were your friends right away? Could you trust them completely?”
David thought about that long and hard. He started building again, but it was clear that he was working on the answer to Dr. Elaine’s question. After another “scale,” David turned his big green eyes back to hers. “No. I trusted them a little bit at a time.”
Dr. Elaine nodded. “That how it usually goes.”
The boy’s eyebrows raised a little. “Really?”
“Yep. But you’re on the right track.”
David sighed. “That could take forever.”
“Forever? You really think so?” Elaine prompted. “Reality check, David.”
The little boy’s shoulders slumped as he sighed softly. “I didn’t trust Daddy and Wilson all the way until this summer, and I’ve known them for almost a year!”
“But now you know them, and they’re your friends.”
“But I want to have a bestest buddy now,” the boy insisted. “I’ll be nine-and-a-half before I have another new friend.”
‘Poor little guy,’ Dr. Wardner thought to herself. “A ‘bestest buddy?’” She asked.
“Yeah, like Daddy and Wilson.” Then he amended, “Well, not like Daddy and Wilson now, with all the kissing and stuff, but like they were before they fell in love. Best friends. I want to have a best friend.”
“I understand.”
“But I have to wait,” David sighed, still crestfallen.
Smiling gently, Dr. Wardner attempted to shore up David’s mood. “It does take time, but you know, David, all during that time, you’ll be getting to know Sammy. And hopefully other children, too.”
“I only need one bestest buddy,” he corrected.
That was just too cute. Dr. Wardner bit the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling. “Well, you might not want to put all your eggs in one basket, David. It’s probably a better idea to get to know a lot of people - otherwise, you might miss out on meeting someone really nice.”
He sighed again, then started disassembling the blocks. “Time to get Wilson,” David reminded her. Elaine smiled gently. This was all the indication she would get that David wasn’t happy with what she was saying. Poor little fellow.
“Time to get Wilson,” she echoed. She buzzed her receptionist while David put away the Legos.