Doctoral Collision

Posted on Sun Jul 28th, 2019 @ 1:29am by Lieutenant Commander Calvin Morgan

With the initial briefings over, and the ship humming softly off on its first mission, Calvin decided it was time to stop being a Hippocratic-al hypocrite and see his partner in crime in the medical department. Having no ambition to don his uniform jacket, he walked the short journey down the corridor to Bert's office in his usual attire of teal undershirt and uniform pants, with the sleeves of the shirt pushed up above the elbows. He stopped at the door, rolled his eyes and took a breath, and hit the chime.

"Please enter!" Bert called out. He had his back to the door and was stretching to put the last of his mask collection up on the back wall. There were dozens of them from multiple cultures and all ranges of emotions. He gave it a tap to make sure that the fastener held before turning around to glance at who came in.

Calvin stepped inside the room, looking from left to right, glancing at all of the masks that decorated the room. Not his cup of tea, but they were beautiful in their own right in his opinion. "Finally had some downtime so I figured the two of us should formally meet." He stated as he walked up to Bert, holding out his hand. "Calvin."

"Bert," the counselor said, shaking the man's hand firmly. "It's nice to meet you. Sorry that I haven't made my way over yet. It's been busy between setting up and the hotlist. I promise that I'll make time for a physical very soon."

Calvin shrugged. "You aren't the only misfit I have, so you've got company," He said with a smile. "If it makes you feel any better, the closest you'll get to prodding my brain will probably be indirectly through us discussing the medical department." He looked around again. "interesting decor."

"Thank you. I find it central to my career: masks and the various ways that we protect or present ourselves," the counselor offered with a grin. "The first was a gift."

"Oh really? Which one? From who?" Calvin asked, with genuine curiosity.

Bert looked around the wall a bit until he found a small, beat up looking clay half mask that looked almost feline with pointed ears and a slitted nose. "This one," he said, tapping in on its green painted nose. "It was supposed to be a type of demon that haunted children on Bajor. Different name, different religion, but the same idea. After I helped a patient with CPTSD confront a deceased abuser using empty chair therapy, her life changed dramatically. She wrongly credited me, not herself, and gave me the mask to symbolize her break with her demon."

Calvin nodded as he walked up to the mask. It seemed to Calvin the mask had made a few moves in its lifetime, the beat up mask looking almost wiser with its worn look. "The physician treats, but nature heals," he paused. "Hippocrates." He turned and looked at his counterpart. "We just provide the avenue for the body to do its thing."

"I'm a sucker for success stories. Do you have a good one for rainy days?" asked Bert.

Without hesitation he answered, "Oh sure, I have plenty. The strongest memory is before I became a doctor, working as a medical cadet on Starbase 74. Had a nasty implosion that destroyed several compartments. DC teams found a guy who was stuck in there. I ended up crawling in and staying with this guy for hours while they eventually pulled enough rubble apart to get him out. Basically held his hand, a little fluid, a little medication to stave off rhabdo. He's the reason I went through paramedic school, and then eventually becoming a doctor."

"That's very noble of you," the counselor said as he took a seat in one of the many chairs in his office. "It can be so difficult watching others be in pain, and so rewarding when that pain subsides."

"This is quite true," Calvin responded, taking the cue and sitting down in another chair in the office. He leaned back and got comfortable for a moment before continuing. "So you seem like a pretty easy guy to work with. I run sickbay pretty loosely by Starfleet standards. I'm more of a screw pomp and circumstance and just get the job kind of guy. I'm guessing that's not too far off from you?"

"I run pretty loosely here, too. I care more for what the patient needs than if it fits a beige standard on a placard somewhere," agreed the counselor.

"Fantastic, then I see a happy medical department in our future then," Calvin responded.