Samson and Laurie log

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Backdated to Thursday 21st August 2008 at 7:00pm after this log

Laurie and Samson talk about what's been bothering her since she got back from Sri Lanka



Laurie paused uncertainly once she'd shut the door to Samson's office, giving him a tentative smile before moving over to sit in the chair in front of his desk. She'd been in her often enough now that she didn't feel she needed to wait for permission to sit. It didn't make these visits any less of a chore, and she really, really hated therapy but she had been told it wasn't meant to get any easier. She supposed insight and wisdom never was, or else you didn't value it as much as you should.

Still, just a little comfort might have been nice. You know, from time to time.

Leo had looked up from his notes at the sound of faint voices outside the door and a barely audible thump. A moment later, Laurie walked in, nervousness radiating form her. The fact that his door was shut immediately and she sat down with nothing but a faint smile was further proof something was wrong.

"Laurie, is everything alright?" He moved away from the computer and leaned forward over the desk to give his full attention to her.

That should have been an easy question to answer, but Laurie wasn't quite so sure she wanted to. She looked around a moment instead, trying to figure out just what to say. "I may have started a fight on the journals." she finally answered, somewhat reluctantly still.

Leo blinked for a moment before responding. "Ah," he finally said, searching for words and reprimanding himself for not keeping up with the journals. Clearly his work with many of the students would be immeasurably easier if he followed the cyberspace trials and tribulations. On the other hand...perhaps a lack of direct knowledge made for more objective insight. "Hmm. Is that a 'may have', as in you're not honestly certain, since the written word can be interpreted multiple ways? He smiled softly to indicate his next words were gentle teasing, "Or a 'may have' as in Charles will shortly be noticing increased tension in the mansion?"

"Well, Jennie turned up in my room looking like a baseball catcher and Kyle had to take a time out in his tree, or go hit things. I'm not sure which he chose. But yeah, increased tension would possibly be putting it lightly." Laurie muttered, blushing softly as she realised just how childish some of her comments had been.

Leo nodded calmly. "Do you want to tell me what the fight was about?"

'Not really' seemed unnecessarily rude, even if it was the immediate thought that went through Laurie's head. He was here to help her, after all. Therapy never worked unless you let it, and boy hadn't she repeated that to herself enough times.

"I didn't think discussing one's sex life on a public journal was a good use of their time and energy." Laurie said, finally.

There was a long pause. Leo opened his mouth, and then shut it again. Twice. Finally, he smiled ruefully and ran a hand through his hair absently. "I see." He thought for a moment. "And when you mentioned this to whomever had posted, I assume they did not respond positively?" Leo tilted his head slightly, watching as Laurie nodded very slightly. "What is it that made you angry about their conversation?"

"What wasn't there to be angry at?" Laurie asked, back tightening slightly and she sat up straighter. "Could it have been the sheer stupidity of talking about sexual relations where minors might wander in? Or the fact that sex isn't the be all and end all of life and some of us have better things to do then hear about the sexual exploits of our fellows. Or, could it quite, just possibly, be the fact that there's people who have died, who aren't...who can't...There's just better things to talk about, that's all."

"Who has died, Laurie?" Leo asked quietly, watching her closely.

"Lots of people." Laurie muttered, not looking at him directly. "I'm told it happens in a war. But it doesn't really matter, it's far away. People who die far away don't matter to anyone, it's too removed, to someone else's problem, isn't it?"

"I would like to think that the death of any person, regardless of who or where they are, has an impact on us," Leo responded, leaning back in his chair, and steepling his fingers together. That familiar quote from Donne floated through his the background of mind. "Though it's also true, in this very global setting we have today, that mourning for the countless deaths around the world can be overwhelming. Some choose to focus on the local, the immediate, because that is all they are capable of handling."

Leo was quiet for a moment, then turned his attention back to Laurie. "But for some reason, I don't think that's what is really bothering you, is it?"

"I don't know what you mean." Laurie said with a stab of alarm. She didn't want to talk about this. Why was it her fate to be given a therapist who was a little too observant for her to simply whaffle her way through?

Leo looked at her steadily. "Laurie, did you wake up this morning thinking about the numerous tragedies going on the world for no particular reason? Was your preoccupation with the deaths of millions in other countries around the world what made you frustrated with certain persons journal entries? Or is there some particular tragedy that you are thinking about?"

"I was in Sri Lanka recently." Laurie replied, foot twitching slightly with the urge to jiggle it. "Working in a red cross camp in the middle of a war zone brings these things to mind, one might say."

Can you tell me what happened?" Leo asked, his voice still calm and quiet.

"People died." Laurie said, stopping herself from tensing up only through strength of will. "It's what happens in a war zone. We were lucky, they let us go."

"I am very grateful that was the case," Leo said. "And I can only imagine how it must feel to know what happened to those who were not let go."

"I'm told you get used to it." Laurie said, remembering the young Polish aid worker and his insistance that alcohol would make it all better. If it hadn't been for her awareness of what could happen if she let go, she might have joined him.

Leo raised one eyebrow slightly, "Does that help you feel any better now?"

"No, but I figure maybe we're not meant to feel better." Laurie said, and she didn't look at him now, instead turning away to watch the play of lamp light on the metal letter opener on his desk. "Maybe that's how these things happen. People feel better, and think that things like how much tail they're getting is somehow more important."

"I don't think we are meant to feel 'better,' but we still must find a way to," Leo paused, searching for words, "process what we experience and see. And right now, I'm less concerned with 'people,'" and absolutely unconcerned with how much tail they're getting, he thought to himself, "and more concerned with you. Laurie, Charles informed me some of what occurred in Sri Lanka, but I would really like to hear what happened from you."

"There wasn't enough medicine for everyone, or enough room. I had to make a choice that I wouldn't have made if the situation had been in any way better." Laurie said, voice softer now, the words coming only reluctantly. "A man died because of me."

"And would he have lived if you and the rest of Red X had not been there?"

"Yes." Laurie said but it was with even more reluctance now, and her eyes were firmly fixed on the chipped nailpolish on her fingernails.

"No, Laurie," Leo responded gently, "A man died because when there are thousands of people in need, and not enough medicine, doctors, nurses, food, time, training, safety--people WILL die. You help the ones you can, and take what joy you are able from that. You grieve the ones you cannot help, and accept that there will be more. You make choices. They are not easy choices. They are not fair choices. But they are the choices you must make if you wish to help."


"It doesn't make it any easier." Laurie noted, reaching up to rub against the wetness on her cheeks. She hadn't meant to cry, she really hadn't. "I didn't start all this so I could watch people die."

"There isn't anything that can make it easier," Leo said softly. He stood and walked over to sit in the chair next to Laurie, picking up a box of tissues from the desk on the way. He handed the tissues to Laurie quietly, and waited.

Laurie reached out and took a tissue from the box, wiping at her eyes and blowing her nose before she placed it in the nearby trashcan. She wished she didn't have to talk anymore. It was too hard, and all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and sleep.

"Would it be okay if I go now?" she asked softly. "I'm tired."

Leo watched her for a moment and nodded slowly. "I'd like you to check in with me tomorrow, though."

"I can do that." Laurie said, standing as she retreated towards his office door. "Tomorrow afternoon? I've got to do some Medlab volunteer stuff, and then I've got to study a bit."

"I'll see you then," Leo responded. "And Laurie--you did well."