Lunar One

Chapter 14: Meeting Dr. Hoffman

     In an effort to keep order on the base, Commander Gordon had ordered everyone to have at least one session a month with the base councilor. They were to meet with Doctor Hoffman to deal with the trauma that was witnessing the end of the world. Seeing the councilor was mandatory whenever you lost just one comrade in arms, or even a family member. So to be the sole survivors of seven billion was sure to impact the psyche of any person, and it was something that needed to be addressed to prevent stress on the base. While many of the soldiers didn't want to do it, and pretty much pissed away their sessions talking about mundane things, there were many people on base who were eager to speak with the Doctor and share their feelings about what just happened. Many people working on the base were unmarried and unattached, but they still had parents, siblings and friends back home who were all obliterated by an extinction level event. Life as they knew it would never be the same, and that alone was more than enough to warrant speaking to a mental health professional. There were over a few hundred people on the base known as Lunar One, so even if Hoffman saw ten of them a day for an hour each, it would take him close to a month to see everyone at least once, which was a daunting task for the only psychiatrist on base. Morgan really didn't want to visit the shrink, but he also didn't want to rock the boat so he reluctantly agreed. It wasn't for another six weeks after being ordered that Morgan's turn finally came up. He had honestly considered faking something like a cold, but didn't out of fear that the commander might cause a panic and toss him in the clean room. So Morgan found himself standing before the door that lead to Doctor Hoffman's office, and he softly knocked his knuckles a few times.

     "It's open," a voice called out, "Come on in."

     Morgan opened the door, and was immediately greeted by a man who was about the same age as his father. He walked over and offered Morgan an open hand to shake, which he did.

     "Doctor Hoffman, I assume?" Morgan asked.

     "Yes, but you can call me Trevor." The old man replied.

     "You mean like the pitcher?" Morgan said.

     "Yes, like the pitcher," Hoffman said with a smile, "I see we have a baseball fan here. Who was your favorite team?"

     "I didn't really have one," Morgan replied, "I just loved watching a game every now and then."

     "Did you Dad like baseball?" Hoffman inquired.

     "I just got here," Morgan shot back, "Don't you think it's a tad premature to ask me about my parents?" 

     "I'm sensing a psych background here," the doctor retorted.

     "My undergrad major was psychology," Morgan confirmed, "This is why I was hesitant to come here. I was afraid of using up time that could be used helping someone else."

     "You don't think you need help?" Hoffman said with a curious look on his face. "You've just experienced a traumatic event."

     "I know, I get it," Morgan said, strolling over to the seat. He slowly sat down and tried to make himself comfortable. "I'm not going to protest, just don't expect the same openness you might have gotten so far."

     "That's too bad," Hoffman said as he sat across from Morgan, "Because most of the people on base are not open. They're clamming up as if they're in an enemy base and I'm here to interrogate them. Like if they reveal even the smallest amount of feelings about what happen that they're betraying someone."

     "Okay," Morgan replied, "Maybe I'll be a little more open than the others. I'm not that tight lipped, I'm just not promising anything."

     "You're here," Hoffman countered, "That's a good start."