Patient evaluation: Morgana

[w_zimmerman]

Will waits patiently in the interview-room, reviewing the extensive and, likely, highly inaccurate medical records on Morgana. Younger than Ashley and either suffering from a combination of ODD and PTSD or from precognition and telekinesis. Terrifying either way and he's got nothing but pity for the girl.
Except for him and her medical records, the

Comments

[morgana_l_f]

Morgana pauses just inside the door as it closes behind her, leaving her and the doctor apparently alone. She wonders about security though and who else is watching through hidden cameras or the glass she can't see out of

[w_zimmerman]

Will watches her sit down impassively, noticing her defensive and fearful behavior, her obvious uncertainty. A little suspicion, maybe, and something else related to the defensiveness. She'll do her best to scare him if he starts to threaten her comfort or security in any way. He can't blame her the way her records tell him she's been stifled, suppressed, neglected, drugged. It's just shy of abuse and that pisses him off and makes him set her file aside more forcefully than he normally would have.

His smile for her is genuine, apologetic, and understanding. Completely devoid of judgment.

"Miss Le Fey, my name's Will and, with luck, I'm going to be able to help you get out of here."

[morgana_l_f]

She hadn't been expecting that and it takes her back, almost a startled jump in her seat.

He's smiling at her and it seems warm, not like that of the nurses and doctors here who always appear to be simply humouring her. She wants to smile back but she can't manage it, doubt instantly forming in her mind.

So, he gets her out of here; and where does he take her then? She rather doubted he was just going to let her go on her merry way. He must have something else in mind for her.

"Who are you?" she blurts out, blunt and challenging. "What do you want?"

[w_zimmerman]

"Will Zimmerman, I'm a psychiatrist and a lot of the people I work with have been misdiagnosed. Which I'm pretty sure you have been," he adds, pouring a glass of water and sliding it across the table to her. He pings the glass pitcher 'absently' with one finger-nail before pouring himself a glass, too. "Have a snack if you want," he offers, gesturing to the cookies and chocolates.

"What I want is to help you. That's what my organization does; we help people who have been misunderstood by the traditional medical establishment. How are you feeling since they discontinued the antipsychotics?" he adds. "Less groggy?"

[morgana_l_f]

Her gaze flicks to the pitcher of water as he taps his finger against it, the small noise and movement somehow capturing her attention. She stares too long and the glassware shudders a little, rattling against the desk.

Hurriedly, she looks away, snatching up a piece of chocolate as a distraction, nibbling at the corner of it.

It was nothing, she tells herself. He didn't notice.

It takes her a moment to realise that he is looking at her though, presumably waiting for an answer to his question.

"They made me nauseous," she says, knowing that's not exactly the response he's after.

There's another pause before she concedes with a slight sigh. She might as well trust him, at least for now. He said he could help her and anything had to be better than staying here.

And if he was lying? Well, God help him.

"Yes," she admits, "I do feel clearer."

[w_zimmerman]

"The nausea's bad with a lot of psych meds," Will tells her, "but there are at least things they can give you for that. But some meds, if the dose is too strong or if it's not what you actually need you just stop feeling like you're still you, like you've lost something integral to who and what you are."

He moves the pitcher away from the edge of the table so it won't fall if she excites it again, then grabs a cookie off the plate. "Enjoying the chocolate? It's my boss' favorite from this part of England."

[morgana_l_f]

A laugh barks out that she doesn't even expect, harsh and bitter sounding.

"Oh yes," she says tautly, "because I really felt like myself before the drugs."

The pitcher rattles once more as her concentration to not do anything slips. She knows he must have noticed that time and she can't help but wonder what her file says about her. Whether he was expecting this.

Her hands shake a little and she rakes one back through her hair as a distraction.

"Your boss is English," she continues in a ludicrously conversational manner, not giving him an opening. "Do you work over here?"

[w_zimmerman]

He calmly rests a hand on the pitcher to keep it from skittering around the table too much.

"Doctor Magnus is British originally, yes. She gets around these days; we all do. I'm based out of America but I do a fair amount of traveling in my line. We go where we're needed when we're needed there," he tells her without even looking at the pitcher.

"Can you tell me how you felt before the drugs? The nightmares came first, right?"

[morgana_l_f]

Her first instinct is to be defensive, to demand how he knows that, but then she remembers the file. She'd told the doctors about her nightmares, back when she thought they might be able to help her.

"When I was thirteen," she says bluntly, "I dreamt about my brother Arthur having his arm in a sling. The next day he broke his collar bone playing rugby."

She studies him challengingly, wondering what he'll make of such a thing. Coincidence, most would say. So she did she at first, but if that was the case, then her dreams had contained many startling coincidences over the last ten years.

[w_zimmerman]

"Collar bone? Ouch; had mine broken when I was 10, not fun." He tilts his head at her. "And it kept happening after that? They kept coming true?"

[morgana_l_f]

"Yes," she admits quietly, afraid someone else might overhear. Somehow it was almost worse that he seemed to believe her, her breath catching as she dare not feel relief.

"They were all different, but nothing good; accidents, murders, a bomb, a plane crash, an earthquake. It was always like I was there. I could feel them."

[w_zimmerman]

"Which was when you started to feel distressed all the time? A lot of people who foresee terrible events start to feel guilty and everyone who experiences them, especially if they didn't know they were coming, is confused and frightened by them. Regular nightmares are bad enough but never knowing if they're going to come true. Your guardian's attitude can't have helped. Girl like you needs acceptance. That makes it a lot easier to control."

He leafs through her file for a moment. "Thirteen was the first time a dream came true? Right around the time you started puberty, I'm assuming? It's usually the changing hormonal levels that trigger these things. But the other things you can do, those are newer?"

[morgana_l_f]

The questioning is getting too personal for comfort and she has to swallow a significant lump in her throat before she can answer. She has get through this, she tells herself. She's got to make some kind of progress because she can't live like this for the rest of her life.

"Yes," she confirms, hating the shake in her voice. Desperation takes a hold and she can't be patient any long, suddenly blurting out, "Do you what it means? Why can I do this? What's wrong with me?"

[w_zimmerman]

"Morgana, there is nothing wrong with you," Will assures her, voice firm but still soothing. "Your brain is just put together a little differently than those of most people. It's a gift, not a curse but, if you don't like it, I can help you learn to deal with it and control it. Even suppress it if that's what you decide you want although I highly advise against that. But I know from personal experience how awful nightmares can be and I can't blame you for wanting them to stop; I can help you with that and I can do it without shooting you full of antipsychotics."

[morgana_l_f]

He said the right things, that much was certain. His voice was full of conviction and she truly got the feeling that he meant every word.

But people had promised to help her before and she'd been let down. She didn't need some experimental psycho mumbo-jumbo if that was what he was offering.

"How?" she demanded, voice stronger once more.

[w_zimmerman]

"Nightmares are easy," he assures her. "Beta blockers and certain classes of antihistamines have decades of efficacy in reducing both the frequency and the intensity of nightmares by blocking the chemical pathways responsible for causing them in the first place. I've used both on myself for that purpose to good effect and I use them on my patients a lot because I know from experience that they work with minimal side-effects. Beyond that, meditation and visualization before going to sleep can reduce dream frequency. Stronger meds are there as a last resort but they're usually more because a patient wants them than because they're actually needed. It could take some time and work, but we can get you to a place where this stops dominating your life..."