Will These Really Help? (Sophie)

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Doctors had always made Phoenix nervous.  Even before he'd joined gangs and started using, they always seemed frightening to him, and he'd wail and fight against going to his regular appointments.  They never really did anything bad to him (although he hated shots, because he used to be afraid of needles - they hardly made him flinch anymore, and evidence as to why were shown as old punctures riddled on his arms and the creases of his elbows), but they were just so... Intimidating.  He always felt that one wrong move would make them determine he had some rare incurable disease and send him to a hospital to be tested on or something.

After he got into the mess he'd been in during his last years of Seattle, his fears involving hospitals grew mainly because he knew he'd likely end up there eventually, whether from gunshot or stabbing or overdose or something similar.  He was clean now - had been for a while, which he owed to Oriel - but his years of abuse had led to all sorts of after-effects, from anxiety attacks to weight issues and problems retaining information, to name a few.  The first two had become quite more severe recently, to the point where Phoenix had finally been given a prescription for anti-anxiety medications that were, he was told, supposed to help him with his panic attacks and general nervousness.

That would be great, he thought, but as he sat now in the medical clinic, alone, he trembled with worry and fear, wishing more than anything that Oriel could be there with him.  The bright, white lights and professional-looking people made the weak, fragile boy feel dark and unpleasant to look at, with his too-large clothes draping over his malnourished figure and his long hair growing unkempt.  Phen huddled in on himself as he waited for someone to call him in.  He had no idea what to expect.

[Sophie Tillman]

"TGIF" didn't mean quite the same thing the clinic as it did in workplaces with more conventional hours. Instead of a peaceful Saturday off tomorrow, Sophie had another day of work to look forward to. Even so, while one of the other nurses chattered away happily about her plans to take her kids to the lake that weekend, Sophie listened and nodded along amicably as she looked over the next appointment's file.

Phoenix Tang. Not a familiar name in the woman's mind, and it was distinctive enough to stick. What made the file interesting to Sophie was where it had been sent from - the Hammel Institute.

It wasn't often that meta students ended up in her clinic. No surprise, really. Although Pilot Ridge could be considered more accepting than much of the country, the staff at Hammel preferred to keep what they could within their own walls. But sometimes that just didn't work out, and that's where Sophie came in.

A glance at the clock showed it was just about time, so she excused herself from the one-sided conversation and headed toward the door that separated the front lobby from the exam rooms. As she walked, Sophie skimmed the file for a reminder of what the teenager's power was. Wings and hallucinogenic dust... Huh. She'd seen her share of wings during her school days, but the dust was new.

Upon reaching the door she sought, Sophie opened it and called out, "Phoenix?"

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It took quite some time, as it often seemed to take in doctor's offices, before Phoenix's name was called to go back. While he waited, he mostly fidgeted, or half-heartedly tried to flip through some magazines whose pictures he hardly took in, and the words even less so. He felt like everyone was watching him (they weren't, of course), which made him even more nervous and twitchy until he was ready to run out and forget the whole appointment and never go back.

Fortunately, it was a few moments later that he heard his name called out. Phoenix's head snapped up and he stared at the woman uncertainly for a moment before he peeled himself out of the chair he'd been sitting in and shuffled over, giving the tiniest of tiny smiles at the woman. "Hi," he whispered, glancing around worriedly. "I, um, I'm Phoenix. I've never, uh, I've never really done anythin' like this before..."

He reached up to brush some frazzled strands of his thick bangs away from his face. "So, um, d-do you need to like, weigh me and check my vision and stuff, or...?" Phoenix wasn't sure if this was like a regular sort of doctor's appointment or just to go over the medication he would be taking.

[Sophie Tillman]

Oh lord, this child is a wreck, Sophie thought sadly. She knew that his jumpiness and generally disheveled look, especially considering what his file said he was here for, would have immediately put a number of her colleagues on guard had they been the one to receive him. Professionally, she knew she had to be ready in case the boy tried to scam drugs. Personally, though, she doubted it would come to that. Something about how quiet he was, how... small he was trying to make himself.

"Don't you worry, Phoenix," she told him, offering him a gentle smile. If her first impression was correct, the boy would need all the gentle she could give. "Ah'll explain everythin' once we're inside. Jus' follow me, okay?" Sophie held the door so he could enter the hallway, then let it swing shut and led him to an open office.

"Ah'm just gonna keep this door closed for your privacy, okay hon?" Sophie explained as she shut the door behind them. The offices here weren't that small and certainly most patients didn't mind, but Phoenix looked about ready to jump out of his skin. Walking him through how things worked wouldn't hurt if it could help ease his mind.

"Feel free to take a seat if ya like," she said in her Georgian drawl, gesturing towards the exam table with its crinkly paper lining, "but ah am gonna need to weigh ya here in a bit. It's important for determinin' what kind of dose you'll be needin'."

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Phoenix had been clean for a good number of months now, even if he didn't look it at the moment; this awful appearance was more from lack of sleep and hardly eating than anything else. He'd started to waver into small panic attacks that, he feared, might eventually lead to a relapse, but that was why he was here in the first place. And even if he wasn't incredibly weak, he didn't pose much harm to anyone; he could scratch like a wild cat, and he knew how to wield a knife from his gang days in Seattle, but otherwise he couldn't hurt a fly with his stick-thin arms.

Her soft words and smile helped settle Phoenix's nerves a bit, and his smile managed to grow a tiny bit wider. "That sounds good t'me," he murmured back, eager to be away from the crowd of people in the waiting room. He shuffled inside as she opened the door, trying not to look at her too much with intrigue at her accent. His only accent was incomprehensible mumbles.

"Oh, um, o-okay," he stammered, his heart rate picking up slightly as the door closed. Phoenix wasn't a fan of closed spaces, and doctor's offices already made him nervous, so this was... Well, anxiety-inducing, unsurprisingly. His fingers clutched nervously at his sides as he stared around, unsure of what to do or where to go.

Fortunately, the woman spoke again, instructing him where to sit, and he gladly rested down on the exam table. The crinkly paper noise sent goosebumps up and down his arms; he suppressed a shiver. "Okay," he said softly again, trying not to move so he didn't make more noise. "I, um, I'm afraid I'll prob'ly need your lowest dose... I've lost some weight recently." Weight that he really shouldn't lose; he was starting to sink into being underweight again, after Oriel had worked so hard to get him healthier. He shifted and looked to the side, certain the gauntness in his cheeks was showing starkly under this light. "So, um, this stuff.... It's supposed t'help with my anxiety and panic attacks, right?"

[Sophie Tillman]

Even as Sophie presented a calm, welcoming front, she was watching Phoenix carefully. Not out of suspicion, at least not completely. Primarily out of concern. The boy looked about ready to jump out of his skin. Even if she didn't recognize the signature on the prescription in his file as Dr. Neville's, she'd still have a hard time believing he was merely faking.

"Yes, that's right," Sophie replied. "But ah want to tell you that with as many options as there are, it might take a couple of tries before we find the right one for you. An' the thing about anxiety is there're a few different ways to work on it.

"Now, lookin' at your script here," she continued, tapping the file in her right hand with her left, "it looks like for now we wanna work on the panic attacks first, 'cause what ah'm gonna set you up with today is somethin' to deal with the attacks as they come. That alone often helps to lessen folks' anxiety somewhat."

It certainly had for Sophie, although that wasn't anything she liked to discuss with patients.

"But first things first, let's get you up on that scale." Sophie stepped to the side to allow Phoenix more space, the better to access the contraption. "If you don't wanna look yourself, that's fine, you can just hop on backwards."

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A couple tries? Really? Phoenix wilted a bit at this, his expression falling even more. "So... So this might not help at all?" he asked quietly. He really needed something to help him, because at this rate he was doing really, really badly. "Wh... What are some other options?" He peeked up at the nurse, his fingers weakly gripping into the side of the exam table. "I really... Really need help. I'm not doing well..." And the sooner he could get this stuff taken care of, the better.

He nodded a little as she spoke again, raising a hand to rub the opposite arm with. "Yeah, um... They're really bad," Phen whispered. He blinked at her explanation, a bit of hope rising in his chest again. "There's somethin' that can do that?" he asked, showing obvious interest. "'Cause... That's what I'm most worried about." Phoenix swallowed hard. "Havin' a panic attack an' doin' somethin' dumb." Like falling back to abusing his dust, or other drugs.

"Oh, okay, right," he gulped, sliding himself awkwardly off of the table and shuffling over to the scale. "Um, a-alright." Phoenix wasn't too excited about seeing where his weight had dropped to (hint, it was below 115, and for being not quite 5'9", that was bad). He turned around and stepped on backwards, hanging his head in embarrassment and guilt for what he was sure was a disappointing measurement. "Is it... Is it really bad?"

[Sophie Tillman]

TW: Possible mentions of suicidal ideation

Sophie had to resist the urge to sigh heavily - that was certainly not what she'd hoped the boy would take from her statement. She only wanted to prepare him for a frustrating reality about using meds. Pheonix sounded desperate, but maybe she could reassure him somewhat.

"That's why we're gonna work on reducing your panic attacks first," she explained calmly -always calm. Remained unflustered was the simplest way to convey confidence to patients, and Phoenix needed all the confidence she could give him. "There are several types of fast-acting anti-anxiety meds that you take as you need 'em, rather than on a set schedule every day. They're all pretty good at their jobs, but we're gonna wanna pay attention to the side effects 'cause that's what varies from person to person.

"Now, if you get to a point where the attacks are under control but you're still struggling with anxiety," Sophie went on, "somethin' else we can do is set you up with an anti-depressant. Ah knew that might sound weird, but a lot of people find it helps rein in that sorta constant background anxious feeling. That's when we'd hafta worry about finding the right kind - anti-depressants can be tricky like that."

It was an unfortunate fact that many people had to go through several trial periods to find one that worked for them, but Phoenix's case might not even come to that. If he eventually was able to manage his panic attacks, such a step might not be necessary at all. Then again, though, maybe it would be. Which was why although she didn't want to scare him, she did want to give him a full picture of how treatment might work. Now that the boy had admitted that he was afraid of what he might do - a significant red flag, in her experience - it was an even more delicate line to walk.

Sophie stewed on that a bit as she debated how to answer his question about his weight. It wasn't the lowest she had ever seen, but that didn't make it healthy.

"Ah'll level with ya, hon, it's not ideal," she told him after a moment, "but it's not so low that you're gonna keel over an' die on your way out. We can talk about it a bit when we're goin' over side effects an' whatnot. But can you have a seat for me again first?"

She waited for him to move back to the exam table, then pulled up a chair of her own. It would be easier to speak on his level if she were sitting, too.

"Before we continue, Pheonix, will you tell me somethin'? What is it you're afraid of doin' during a panic attack?" Calm, always calm. If the boy asked, she'd explain what she was listening for. Sophie couldn't imagine Dr. Neville not noting in the file if he believed Phoenix to be a suicide risk, but she had known cries for help to appear in statements more vague than the one he'd made. if it was nothing, if he'd meant something else, fine. But she wasn't going to ignore it off the bat.

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Phoenix tried to take a deep, quiet breath through his nose, hoping he would get himself to relax a little; it didn’t work too well. Fortunately, Sophie was talking again, so he focused on what she was saying. That did give him some relief. “O-oh, I see,” he replied, letting his shoulders, which had tensed, lower a little. “That’s… That’s good then.” He wasn’t sure what to make of the mention of side-effects, though, so he bit his lip and let that one slide.

He kept listening though, and what she was explaining made more sense to him, and also worked to calm him down more. Phoenix wasn’t against using more than one medication, if that was what it took to help. “I-I guess we’ll see how that goes after the, um, the panic attacks get better, then?” he tried to confirm. The background anxiety was bad, yes, but even just feeling like he had something with him just to stop a panic attack would make him feel quite a bit better. It was the constant worry of having a panic attack that was part of what made him so anxious in the first place.

But he was glad she was spelling this all out for him. Phoenix would rather know ahead of time what to expect than be suddenly bombarded with things he didn’t plan for. So he appreciated her honesty (and should have expected it, seriously, she was a medical professional).

Phen nodded as she answered his question about his weight, not surprised in the least. “Well… Th-that’s good, at least. I mean, the not dyin’ part.” One less thing to worry about for now, he supposed. He nodded as she asked him back to the table and did as such, wincing once again at the crinkly paper. He was never going to get used to that.

He looked up at the nurse as she spoke again, eyes slightly wide at the rather unexpected question. “U-uh, well…” Phoenix wasn’t sure if it was alright to admit what he’d done to cope in the past. Then again… What was the point in lying? He wouldn’t be helping himself. “I, um… I u-used t’use drugs when I was younger, and…” Phen swallowed and wrung his hands together. “M-my ability… I can p-produce hallucinogenic dust, and I… I used t’be addicted to it…” He hadn’t used in many months now, but it was always a constant worry, especially now that he didn’t have Oriel around for support. “I… I’m really, really worried about relapsing.” His cheeks felt hot at the admittance; he was ashamed.