Page 7 of Capturing Perfection

He jogged up the steps and saw the brass plaque beside the door with a list of businesses confirming he had the right location. Apparently, the businesses each had a floorto themselves. He stepped into the foyer. Dr. Lincoln's office occupied the first floor; a similar brass plate marked the door to his left.

He placed his hand on the knob and turned, peeking his head around the corner of the door. The first thing he saw was a young woman sitting behind an antique writing desk situated in front of the bank of windows that faced the street.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

Logan straightened to his full height and entered the room as confidently as possible. “My name is Logan Callen. I have an appointment with Dr. Lincoln.”

“Yes, Sir. I see you’re a new patient.” She picked up a clipboard with some papers attached. “Can you please fill out these forms? Dr. Lincoln will be with you shortly.”

He accepted the clipboard from her outstretched hand and turned to see two club chairs and a love seat in a sitting area on the opposite side of the room. Beyond the receptionist's desk, stood a solid wood wall. Logan glanced around, searching for a door that led to Dr. Lincoln’s office was since this was obviously only a reception area. He sat in the chair and looked at the forms he was required to complete. The questions pertained to basic demographic information until he reached a section of open-ended questions about family and home life, work, neighbors, and several spaces left blank, asking him to describe his current problem.

Like that’s only going to fill up three lines.

He answered as best he could and returned the forms to the receptionist.

“Thank you, Mr. Callen. I’ll be right back.”

She walked past him and slid one panel of the wooden barricade to the side, exiting further into the office. Logan felt stupid that he hadn’t realized the barrier was, in fact, a sliding wall. He chalked that up to nerves.

Left to his own devices, he paced until the nervous energy annoyed him, then forced himself to choose a spot amongst the offered seating. Logan lifted the strap of his satchel over his head and sat in one of the club chairs. He picked up a magazine and idly thumbed through the latest Hollywood exploits, chuckling as he read about the latest scandal. He would think people had better things to do than worry about spoiled celebrities. Then again, he was reading it just like everyone else in the country. He heard the receptionist’s voice to his left, smiling at the realization that he actually heard her.

When he walked through the opening in the wall, he came face to face with the man he presumed to be Dr. Lincoln. The man had a commanding presence. He matched all of Logan’s six-foot-three-inch height and exceeded him by a couple more. His torso rippled and bulged with muscle. The man would have been terrifying to those of more timid natures had it not been for his relaxed posture and the kindness in his eyes. He was younger than Logan had expected. Late thirties, early forties maybe?

“Mr. Callen. Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Lincoln. You’re welcome to call me Matt. I don’t want you tripping over my title when we talk.”

Logan held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, too. Thank you for seeing me.”

“While I appreciate the acknowledgement, thank yourself for having the courage to make an appointment. Please make yourself comfortable.” Matt gestured to the sitting area around the fireplace. “I know how hard it is to take this first step, and I’m glad you’re here.”

Logan nodded his head. He looked around the office, which looked more like a study. Leather-bound tomes and decorative embellishments filled the hunter green walls and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. One wall held several framed degree certificates. Logan saw two heavily draped windows. He supposed the doctordidn’t want his patients’ minds to wander beyond the guided discussions. Logan sat in one of the traditional leather club chairs and waited for Dr. Lincoln to join him. He took out his iPad and, while waiting for it to power up, continued to scan the room.

Table and floor lamps transformed what could have been an oppressive cave into an inviting space. A large executive desk of rich, dark wood dominated the space, complemented by a high-backed leather chair. He could picture some old English Lord sitting behind it with a highball, looking over the week’s correspondence. Logan shook his head at the fanciful notion.

His tablet was ready, and Logan opened the live captioning app the audiologist had shown him. Like the cations on the TV, words appeared on the screen during conversations. Logan thought the idea was genius and, that day, had gone out and bought the best iPad he could find. Between the conversation app and the one the audiologist put on his phone for call transcriptions, Logan felt like he'd regained some measure of his life back. When he’d emailed the doctor asking for an appointment, he’d explained his problem, and Dr. Lincoln had been very accommodating with Logan's need for the assistive device.

Matt settled down in the chair across from Logan.“Mr. Callen, may I call you Logan?”

Logan glanced down and smiled when the words appeared on the screen. “Please do. Thank you for letting me use the tablet during our session. I know it slows the conversation a bit.”

“Absolutely. Logan, let me tell you how I plan to conduct our sessions. For the first few minutes, I’d like to get to know you better. Find out what things you enjoy doing, where you’re at in your life and where you want to go. Then we can delve into what brought you here, seeking help.”Logan looked up at Matt and nodded.

"I can see that you wear hearing aids. Do they provide clarity or are you dependent on the captions?"

"They help me hear some sounds, but the injury to my inner ear destroyed my speech understanding. In order for me to understand you by voice only, I have to see your face and you need to speak slowly. It is possible, but difficult. My last test showed that I only discriminate thirty percent of words accurately. And that's with the hearing aids."

“Thank you. I will remember that. Tell me a little about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

"How about you begin by sharing something about yourself that isn't well known?"

Logan fidgeted for a few seconds, trying to think of something deep and significant. When he couldn’t think of something on par with obtaining world peace, he said, “I like to watch B rated horror movies late at night, while eating a bowl of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food.”

Matt chuckled.“I prefer Cherry Garcia and Gene Kelly movies.”

"Gene Kelly earned his reputation, but I've always thought people overlooked Van Johnson's talent."

“Remind me what he played in. I know the name, but can’t recall what he did.”

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