The mafia was filled with so many different issues whether it be psychopathic tendencies, schizophrenia, paranoia, insomnia, delusions, and so much more. Tucked away in Bricktown was an office building where some mobsters would go when they needed to get help or get some things off their chest. While in most cases this would usually lead to the death of the Doctor and the mobster, this was a special medical practice run by a mobster. The man, the myth, the legend of the medical world who ran it was known as Doctor Knackered. He had already worked a few cases and tried his best to help some others who were less than accepting of it. At the end of the day he was the best of the best at dealing with the mind of a mobster.

His office was recently renovated after a less than ideal first session where a gun fight broke out. While this was not the norm, it was something he would always be prepared for with a nice arsenal of weapons for him and his patient to use. Many doctors may say that keeping weapons in a room with psychopathic criminals is not a good idea, Tad knows how to handle the situation. That is why those other doctors are the worst of the worst. It sat nicely between many other offices where law was practiced, taxes filed, prescriptions written, and more. The signage within the building made it easy to find as you exited the elevator...

<-- Lewis Optometry Rm 421

Russo Brothers Tax Office Rm 422 -->

Knackered Psychiatry Rm 424 -->

...

Once you find it on the sign you ignore the rest and head down the hallway to your right. The elevator doors close behind you and you hear the distant bing noise as it goes to pick up the next passenger. As you make your way down the hallway you pass a couple of extra doors including janitorial supplies and a bathroom before finally arriving at your desired destination. 

You knock on the door...

"Come in!" A female voice shouts from behind the door.

You turn the knob and head inside to find yourself in a waiting room. A friendly looking woman sat behind a secretaries desk next to another door which you assumed was where you'd have your session with Doctor Knackered. She continued on with her business finishing some sort of documentation before picking up the telephone and dialing a very short number.

"Yes Doctor, you have somebody here waiting to see you." She says quickly, "Okay. I'll find out for the post session paperwork and then send them in Doctor."

She hung up the phone and then turned to you, "What's your name? Also did you have an appointment or are you a walk-in? It's just information I need for the paperwork you'll have to fill out after your session with Doctor Knackered."

You look a little suspiciously at the woman knowing how dangerous it is in your line of work to share too much information. But you just want to get in to see the doctor and give up the needed information....

"Sana, and err, I'm a walk-in," she replied to the doctor's secretary, shifting uncomfortably. Sana had been to countless psychologists, psychiatrists, and even hypnotists for various things in her childhood, but only now did she feel so... fidgety. Maybe it was because of the gallon of coffee she downed earlier today, or maybe it was because she was in a room filled with odd characters, either way, she was told to take a seat in the waiting room as the doctor had to attend to some other clients first.

She sat next to a burly man who kept grunting and Sana flashed him a kind smile. "Hey, kinda weird making small talk outside you psychiatrist's office, huh... so what are you in for?" She said, looking up at him. Even sitting down, he was easily a whole head taller than she was. He turned to her slowly and flashed her a toothless smile. "I killed a lady once and I've never stopped seeing her face behind me whenever I look into mirrors. She kind of looks like you..." Sana's eyes widened in horror, and as if that wasn't enough, he continued. "Oh, and a bad addiction to heroin. See?" He showed her his arm that was black and blue and full of track marks and she nodded slowly. "How about you?"

"Uh... I just can't sleep... I'm sorry to hear about the lady in the mirror though..."

Before things could get any awkwarder, the secretary called out "Mr. Kellin" in a booming voice and he stood up -- rather unsteadily, one might add -- took one last good look at Sana, grinned, and walked into the doctor's room. An hour or two passed and multiple people have come and gone, all quite... interesting characters. There was one guy who kept swatting the air around him, saying there were microscopic people with wings hovering around his head. Another kept bawling wheever he heard the word 'please'. Sana had half a mind to just leave when the secretary called out her name. "Miss Sana? Yes, the doctor will see you now."

As she walked inside the TadKnackered's office and plopped down on one of the available chairs, she wondered how he could bear to sit here all day talking to people with so many problems and looked so unbothered. "Good day Doc, I'm just here for some sleeping pills and I'll be on my merry way, wouldn't want to waste too much of your time, seems you have a lot on your hands... I know I could have just taken some from the drugs I sell myself, but hey, how does that saying go again? Don't get high on your own supply?" Sana said with a shrug, leaning back. She'd been practically sleepless for the past month or so, and she had no idea why. All she knew was that she needed to stop passing out at random moments of the day because of the exhaustion. "Got any ideas why this is happening to me?"

It was quite a long day so far dealing with his new influx of patients who were suffering from a wide range of issues. One man was seeing the face of a woman he murdered and trying to get clean, while one man was having hallucinations, and the very start of his day involved a woman who believed she could fly. The beginning to his day involved a lot more thuds coming from his room and a couple of bookcases being tipped over. He was not sure if he'd keep seeing that woman or refer her to somebody else....

As he pondered it, his next patient walked in and took a seat. She was quick to explain why she was there and why the visit should be quick itself. What she described was something he also struggled with during his life in the criminal underworld. Although it could be due many different reasons depending on the individual. 

"Well, I'll definitely write you a prescription if you're struggling with sleep. Will it be a continual thing? Perhaps not. I'd rather see the difference between now and the next time I see you with those pills. If there is improvement it will help with my understanding of how to treat you. If it barely helps then...well you understand. Overall it will be helpful to hopefully both of us." He said as he pulled out his prescription pad from a locked drawer in his desk.

As he began writing on it he continued to speak, "As to what is causing it. I need to learn more about you and your daily life to possibly come to a conclusion on that. I could make a long list of possible causation, but then I'd have to trust that you figured it out correctly your self and that you were being completely honest with me. A lot of issues with taking that approach."

He ripped the top piece of paper off the pad and walked around his desk to where Sana was seated. He handed her the paper and then sat on the edge of his desk across from her...

"So, tell me a bit about yourself and what a typical day in the life of Sana is like." Tad said as he pulled out his notebook to take a few notes on his newest patient.

Sana shook her head so quickly and with such vigor that it almost gave her whiplash. "No, no, not a continual thing. I don't want to form some kind of dependency on it. I think I just need it to act as some form of a hard reset on my body clock and hopefully, things will get better after that." She didn't divulge the fact that she wasn't the best with self-control and had addictive tendencies to any substance she touched... she'd really rather not get into that right now.

"As for my daily life and a bit about me... where to begin..." Sana frowned as she shifted in her seat. Of course, she knew Dr. TadKnackered primarily dealt with people in their business so he had a much more nuanced understanding of the... err... sensitivities of the job, but it still felt weird detailing the illicit activities she partook in during her waking hours. However, she saw no other alternative and knew it would be pointless going to a psychiatrist if she was just going to bottle it all up anyway, so she took a deep breath and started talking. "For starters, I'm 22 years old with a degree in political science. Grew up in the Philippines, moved here for university. Have one sister who was embroiled in all of this," she waved her hand around mindlessly, pertaining to the life of crime. "Or maybe I had one sister that was. She's... well, she's missing. And that's how I got involved in the... life we lead... because I want to find her. Haven't had much luck there." Sana paused for a moment as her lips pressed into a tight line. She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, her fists balling up as she remembered her sister, Taiga...

"I can't really say what my most of my days look like because they're always so radically different from one another," she continued. "I will say that it's a lot of airplanes and sketchy alleyways though. I take a lot of red-eye flights -- I try sleeping on the plane but inevitably fail to do so. Then I go about my day of selling drugs, overseeing the creation of counterfeit bills, stealing artwork, and the occasional murder... which I have become numb to. In the times that I'm not flying around the country, I then go home and proceed to lie in bed, staring at my ceiling wondering how the fuck I got here. And that's me." She finished off, with a bit of spite in her voice. She didn't realize how amazingly bleak and tragic her life was until she had to say it out loud.

"I'm sorry for unloading on you. But I take it you're used to it, no? Or that you're used to more... exciting... stories. I bet that guy who sees the lady ghost in the mirror's a much more interesting subject than I am." Sana said with a small chuckle.

Roses are red

violets are blue

I'm a schizophreniac

and so am I

help me

Tad was furiously taking down notes as Sana went on explaining more about herself and her daily activities. It was nothing too out of the norm for a mobster, but of course it was not the norm for most people who walked the streets here in the United States. As most would say, it was 'business as usual' and this was definitely a mixed bag of causes when it came to her difficulties sleeping. 

"No, I'm usually a bit more stressed out or concerned dealing with those other sorts. It's a bit more exciting trying to find solutions when the person is not clearly delusional or 'broken' mentally. While I do enjoy helping all my patients and trying to put the pieces back together.....I'd always welcome a more simplistic situation." He jotted down a few more things that he hadn't gotten to yet. 

Things that he missed and even new ideas were constantly popping up in his mind as he spoke, took notes, listened, and so on. It couldn't be helped...

"Your life is not so different than most mobsters. Some do a bit less traveling....some do a bit more murdering....and some do more 'taking' than selling when it comes to the business of drugs. It is not uncommon for the people I treat to struggle with sleep. As I said...I myself struggle with it. I am a dual threat here being a mobster and a man of neurological sciences. Both fields of work have their own impact on me in such different ways and in very similar ways too." He paused and made a little side note on a different paper that he might use for his own mental health later on.

"Now, I do think that these pills I'm prescribing you should help. They're a slightly larger dosage than most may give to a patient on a first visit, but you seem to genuinely need them. I would not take them when getting on a flight as you may end up getting carried off the flight by security when you don't wake up upon landing. That is of course if the dosage is suitable for your needs. It could be only a minor help still." Tad thought about what else could help this young woman with her issues.

"I do believe that part of your issue may be tied to this possible missing sister. Having unknowns in your life such as that can truly keep you up at night. Also, you may want to try mixing in something for yourself every once and a while when it comes to that schedule of yours. Sounds to me that you are either working, on your way to more work, or sitting at home most hours of the day. Perhaps mix in a nice visit to a restaurant, a date, a trip to somewhere outdoors, or even building a new business that may be work 'outside' of the mafia. I know the last option would most likely still entail dealing with people from the mafia and kicking up a little tribute....but perhaps it would be something you enjoyed so much that it did not matter." He finally paused to give his patient time to let it all sink in and share anything else that may be on her mind.

Tad was sitting in his office when Zebedee showed up. They had interacted once before on the first day he opened up his practice. It was quite an interesting day that began with a conspiracy theory, followed up with a shootout, and finished with Zebedee appearing in front of him looking for a bit of help. Today did not start off with such excitement, but it looked like it may finish in a similar fashion.

Zebedee came in...sat down....and recited a poem to him...

"Well, it's not the best one I've heard in my life. Possibly the best one I've heard here in this office though. I treat a man who believes himself to be Emily Dickinson and.....well even without my degrees it is clear that he is not." He shook his head thinking about those appointments and how taxing they could be on his mental for that day.

"You say that you are schizophrenic and while I am inclined to take that seriously as a professional, I will do my best to truly see what we need to treat at this point." He started a new section of notes for Zebedee.

"Last time we met, I believe that you felt you were two tents too tense. We discussed a wigwam, a teepee, and eventually tarpaulin. I think my honest opinion at the time was that perhaps feeling like tarpaulin was a way of fitting in more with the urban environment. Have you felt like a wigwam, teepee, or tarpaulin since we last met?" He wanted to see where the man was at since their last meeting and also see if today was connected to those feelings.

"Past that, how have you come to the conclusion that you are schizophrenic?" He waited eagerly to hear what the man had to say.

Zeb put his feet up on the chez longue and listened intently to the Dr's questions.

I believe we are a schizophreniac as we are all of the tenty overings at once.  Having a spring for legs helps i think.

Tad couldn't help but scratch his chin and give a low 'hmmm...' as he thought and jotted down a few more notes...

"So it is a collective 'we' that you recognize. Are you able to communicate with each 'version' of yourself all at once? Wigwam, Teepee, and Tarpaulin? That is quite impressive if so. Could be a publishable research study done on such a man and it would be worth some good money too." His thoughts started to wander....

He shook his head and got back on task, "Sorry, you all are here for help and that is what I will do my best to do."

Then he remembered the last thing that Zebedee had said to him....'Having a spring for legs helps i think' and the situation became even more enticing from a psychological standpoint. He looked down at the man's legs and wondered how he must be viewing them from his point of view.

"So, I suppose that is why you choose to hop around? The spring that is. I would imagine it assists in getting set up wherever you may go and which ever 'tenty overing' is in control at that time?" He had so many questions, but he would try his best to keep it to a minimal amount as they went.

"Right, that makes sense." Sana said as she listened to the doctor's experience in dealing with less... coherent patients. She opened her mouth wanting to ask about security worked in a place like this -- being in a close room with an unhinged mobster didn't sound like the most secure place after all -- but decided against it. TadKnackered seems like a fellow who could easily defend himself and frankly, she didn't want to know the bloody details of what happens if someone got too feisty.

Sana chuckled at the doctor's anecdotes. "Ha, I'd never take my own drugs -- mainly because my boss would kill me but also because it's bad for the skin. And being carried off the plane doesn't sound half bad if I'm being honest, saves me the small talk while going through immigration..." Smiling, she felt more comfortable now; coming into the session, she really wasn't big on the idea of letting someone crawl inside her mind and try to figure out what's wrong with it, but this didn't feel the least bit intrusive at all.

Nodding, she made a mental note of the doctor's suggestions as she reached for the prescription issued to her. "I'll try my best to find something I like doing. I've been too embroiled in this life that my hobbies are limited to shooting guns and counting cash nowadays." Chuckling, she stood up, shook the doctor's hand, and offered him a smile. "Here's to hoping we won't be meeting each other again, at least not in this office again. Thank you for the quick and no-frills appointment, Doc." With that, she ducked out of his office, settled her account with the secretary and was on her merry way to buy some tranquilizers... err... drugs.

Tad smiled and shook Sana's hand as was customary at the end of each session with a patient....

"I look forward to our next meeting whether it be here or elsewhere. Always remember that my door is open if you are in need. I think if you follow my advice and keep to what is best for you that you will start to do better. You have good insight into yourself which not many have. Use that talent to help yourself at times." He smiled and waved as she left the office.

He walked back to his desk and took a seat in front of his notebook. The notes continued as was his custom even after sessions ended. He felt that he could not always get enough written down and give patients the attention they truly deserved.

Patient seems to be in a stable enough place that the prescribed medicine and life advice should assist them. Sleeping struggles definitely tied to the life of a mobster....

More specifically tied to constant traveling and possibly any killing done on the job....

Patient unlikely to revisit, but will keep a file going just in case...

Tad closed his notebook and went over to his filing cabinet to get a few things in order before his next patient showed up... 

I just don't know anymore.

I've nicked, I've knacked I've paddywacked

but i'm yet to give the dog a bone.

again, is my spring hindering me?

Tad was just so intrigued by Zebedee and the thoughts that poured out of him. Not so many had such a deep inner connection to themselves and who they were. His notes were beginning to feel even overwhelming for the Doctor himself....

"Well, I would not say that your spring is hindering you. If anything I believe it may just help you reach heights that otherwise would be unimaginable." He took a moment to jot something down in his notebook.

Zebedee always seemed to be waiting patiently for Doctor Knackered to continue on with his feedback....

"So, I think that perhaps in this case you are the dog in those thoughts. You feel that you have not given yourself 'the bone'. No...no...please keep your pants on.....it was metaphorical." The doctor shook his head and rubbed his temple.

"I think that you should embrace your spring and see where it can take you. Allow yourself to enjoy the BOING in your life more than perhaps you have thus far." Tad said as he hoped the suggestion would hit home.