I had finished my course of study at Seminary and was able to finally get out there and work at becoming a good counselor.  The Multiple Sclerosis in my body had responded very well to the cortisone steroid treatments, I could walk without the aid of my cane, and I was feeling pretty confident.  An old friend of mine, Susan, had been talking to me about coming to the clinic where she also worked as a counselor.  They had an opening and had expressed some interest in me after Susan began touting my accomplishments.  I responded positively and quickly to the request for my credentials. After the interview process I was subsequently hired and was assigned to a case that was unique and going to test my abilities as a counselor.  This particular case would also test my skills as a human and as a survivor.

I drove the distance to Susan's house, the day before I was scheduled to report to the clinic.  Susan made sure that I had settled in comfortably,I was to be her guest while working there.  We spent the evening sitting on the porch talking about the clinic, the various people I would meet and some of the cases she was currently working on.  Even while we prepared dinner together we continued discussing "business".  Susan was always working with new organic dishes and I loved the fact that she took good health through diet so seriously.  As a treat I prepared an organic plum cake that wasn't exactly light on the calories.  We enjoyed the evening and looked forward to the next day. 

I arrived at the clinic with Susan and got quickly settled into the office that I would share with her.  I met with my first client after sitting in on a few of the group counseling sessions so that I would be familiar with how things were done.  Each clinic has it's own style of handling the clients needs and I wanted to be able to take on any assignment that was given to me.  Yes, I know the label of 'hard charger' was commonly hung around my neck.  I usually went at any task with zeal and determination to master it, thus the label.  A habit I had picked up during my years in the military, there a woman had to be better at everything just to be considered equal.  Especially when dealing with ego bloated young men, but that's another tale for another time.

The afternoon arrived and I was able to meet the 'special case' that the director had wanted me to take on.  After reading through the young man's case file I understood why I was handed the assignment.  It seems that he had gone through and run off just about every other case worker or counselor that had tried to help him.  He was a young man, about 24 years old, and had been, what was commonly called, a hard core meth addict for years.  He had finally completed rehab therapy and was in the second stage of out patient counseling.  The director felt that I was uniquely qualified to handle this young man based on the case history of my own son and how I was integral in getting him help.  I was a hard liner when it came to addictions but was also able to temper my treatment with a special and unusual style of caring and  empathy.  'Whatever', I thought, as the director went on and on about this, I just followed my instincts when dealing with young addicts nothing special about that.  I just wished that more people and so called 'professionals' would actually get involved with these kids and maybe more of them might be alive and well.  I was never one to be comfortable with a lot of compliments and such, just let me do my job and leave it at that.  I introduced myself to the young man, his name was Daniel, and he was tall and very thin, no surprise there, and very likable.  The boy was intelligent and easy to engage in conversation but trying to get past his defenses was going to be tough.  He was pretty scattered and couldn't stay on one topic more than a few moments.  So I worked at trying to touch on the issues at hand.  Towards the end of the first hour I had pushed Daniel pretty hard, emotionally, and felt like I was making some headway.  I excused myself and left the room for a moment, Susan and another staff member came in to make sure that Daniel didn't leave, just procedure when dealing with addicts - especially court appointed cases. 

I came into the office with a cup of coffee in my hand and wasn't sure what had happened.  Daniel was behind my desk, trembling and wild eyed.  "What the hell is going on?" I demanded to know, greatly concerned for my client.  Susan stepped over to me, never taking her eyes off of Daniel and said that while they were having a friendly conversation with the young man he started to act very strangely and was almost incoherent.  "Damn," I said, "do you think I pushed him too hard and caused him to have a psychotic episode?"  I was concerned that in my attempts to help I may have caused more harm.  "I don't know," said Susan in hushed tones, not wanting to alarm the young man, "I rather doubt it knowing you and your style like I do."  I sighed, not sure what caused the boy to have this happen but I knew that we had to get him calm.  I stepped forward slowly and called to him.  "Daniel," I said gently trying to project as much calmness as possible, "hi, remember me?  What's going on?"  He didn't seem to even hear me at first and then his eyes locked on mine.  He began to try to talk to me but his words came out in a jumble and then I lost him again.  He was talking to beings that weren't in the room and shouting and screaming angrily.  I could hear the sound of people running to the office.  The director came rushing in and slid to a stop, Daniel had pulled a pocket knife out of his pants pocket and had opened it with a flick.  I stepped forward again with my hand outstretched hoping to get him to hand me the knife I certainly didn't want to see him harm himself.  Everyone else in the room had frozen, trying not to make any movement for fear it would set the young man off.  "Daniel," I said gently, "look at me, focus on me..."  He mumbled again, still playing with the knife, and then began shouting again.  His eyes still wild he turned his attention to me and snarled like some wild animal.  He leapt across the desk that separated us and I knew in the instant that I was in real trouble. 

He headed for the nearest staff member and I stepped in between them and closed with Daniel.  I knew that I would never be able to run out of the room to get away from him, my body wasn't capable of running anymore.  I also didn't want Susan or anyone else to get hurt in this nightmare of a situation.  His focus turned again to me and he began laughing and shouting how he would cut my heart out and wear it as a necklace.  The young man was taller than I by a good 5 inches and began bearing down on me.  The next thing I knew he was on the floor and I was on top of him struggling for the knife.  The boy was incredibly strong and I knew that if I didn't get some help in the next instant that he would win the fight for the knife.  "A little help over here please," I shouted over my shoulder to the others.  At that moment 4 other people were on top of Daniel, holding his arms and legs so that I could get the knife out of his grasp.  I threw it on top of the desk and crawled back a few steps as someone else came in to help hold Daniel.  Adrenaline was coursing through my body but I was determined to keep my mind clear. The receptionist had called 911 for an ambulance and a few moments later police officers arrived with their weapons drawn.  They burst into the room and ordered everyone out.  I stood up and saw the taser in the one officers hand.  "I am not going to leave this room and let you taser this boy," I said sharply, "and put those guns away, you aren't going to shoot him either!"  "Who the hell are you?"  Demanded one of the officers.  "I'm this young man's counselor and he's had a psychotic breakdown, he doesn't need to be shot, he needs to be hospitalized!" I fired right back at him, at this point I was furious at the attitude of the officers, I had heard of this type of behavior but had never witnessed it and as the saying goes over here, I was fighting mad.

"The call came over the radio that you folks needed an ambulance because one of your patients had gone crazy and was assaulting people in the clinic," explained another officer.  I stopped bristling for a moment and though I was still angry I calmly said, "No, he hasn't assaulted anyone yet, that's why he's being held down so that he doesn't hurt himself.  We believe that he was going to harm himself with the knife."  The more belligerent officer turned to the director and asked if this was true.  The man just looked at me and nodded his head yes.  The police officers waited in the office with us until the ambulance arrived to take Daniel to the hospital.  The one officer had called on his radio to inform the 911 dispatch that a doctor would need to be on the radio with ambulance attendants in order to give the necessary medical advice so the paramedics could inject the correct medicine to calm the young man down and transport him safely.  It took that better part of on hour for the ambulance to arrive, it was a rural area and ambulances were scarce.   The paramedics finally got Daniel medically calmed down and loaded up.  After they left the officers finished up their report and headed out also.  I was heading for the break room, I  really needed that cup of coffee that I didn't get to drink from earlier.  The director followed me and said, "I want to look at the video tapes of your session with him and determine...." "If I was the reason he had the breakdown?"  I finished for him.  He nodded his head sympathetically.  After I got my cup filled and stirred I headed outside, I really needed a cigarette at this point of the day, I needed to process what had just occurred on my first day.  Susan found me outside and asked me to come back into the director's office.  I snuffed the cigarette out and followed her inside, I knew that my time here had probably just ended. 

The director asked me to sit down and he began, "well, I was afraid that your hard line tactics might be a bit difficult on some of our patients but I thought for sure that Daniel would benefit from them.  Nothing else had worked for the boy and he was desperate to stay clean and work through his issues." I just sat there calmly and quietly, waiting for the director to fire me.  "Something was brought to my attention a short while ago, Daniel's medical records finally arrived."  "Oh," I said with some interest.  "Yes," continued the director, "apparently the doctors who treated him, and had continued to treat him for meth addiction, had stopped his medications with no warning."  "Are you kidding me?"  I said shocked that any medical professional would be so neglectful of their patients well being.  "I wish that I were," the director said, "I am positive that after reviewing the video tape of your session with Daniel and receiving these records that your treatment style had nothing to do with his breakdown."  "You're absolutely sure about this," I asked.  "I didn't harm that boy?"  "No Viv, you didn't harm him.  In fact I saw genuine signs that your methods were working and that he was starting to respond."  The director reassured me, it was my one big fear that I would inadvertently harm a patient and he knew it.  All counselors went through a psychological analysis before being hired so that these issues were known and could be addressed appropriately.  I let out a sigh of relief, "that makes me feel a whole lot better," I said to him.  "I know it does," he answered as he walked me out of his office, "we all go through it and we have to face this part of the job."  He gently patted my shoulder and we ended the conversation on good terms. 

That evening at Susan's house I was quiet, caught up in reflection of the day's events.  Susan of course was thrilled and amazed at how everything had transpired.  She was even bragging to her husband about my martial arts prowess.  "What?" I asked as her as that comment brought me out of my reverie.  "Yes," she said as she turned to look at me, "you did something with your arms and body and just calmly and deftly flipped that boy onto the floor.  It was such a smooth maneuver that several of the staff members have been talking about getting you to teach them how to do it."  "I don't remember doing that at all," I said to her.  I truly didn't remember how Daniel got on the floor, I just remembered that he was there and I was determined to get the knife out of his grasp.  Susan's husband, an old Army man himself, looked at me with a new respect and admiration in his eyes.  We had always been friends but had never really talked about or compared notes on the differences of the branches of military service that we had been members of.  He was in the Army and I in the US Marine Corps, two very separate and distinct branches.  "Yeah," he said with a smile, "just like an Apache woman.  Try to get tough with an Apache woman and she'll do worse things to you than a man ever thought of..."  "I'm not Apache," I curtly informed him.  "No, I know that but I still say that you have Native American blood in you."  It was an old argument between us, he was Native American and was convinced that I was also.  "My family immigrated from Germany," I reminded him, "my sons are first generation German-American."  After this went on for a bit I excused myself and went into my bedroom. 

The next day at the clinic everyone was all abuzz over the previous days events.  Even the two officers who had answered the call had shown back up and wanted to 'get some additional information from me' as they initially put it.  Once inside my office the belligerent officer tried to bully me into pressing charges against Daniel for attempting to assault me with a weapon.  I refused calmly and outright.  He continued on and I just grew bored.  "Since you aren't going to get me to change my mind I see that we have nothing further to discuss..." I told the man matter of factly and got up from my chair to show them out.  "Now what just a minute..." he started to protest, "I don't know who you think you are but you better not blow me off in that high handed manner!"  The man actually puffed out his chest and almost set me to laughing right out loud.  I had no patience or tolerance for bullies, police officers or not.  His partner had a clipboard with him and had been perusing the pages attached to it while the first officer and I parried verbally.  He quickly showed his partner what was on those pages and said, "I don't think that you're going to convince her with these methods," the other man said.  I could see the belligerent officer's eyes grow large as he read each part that his partner pointed to.  I knew automatically what he had on that clipboard, it was my entire history.  My years in the military, all of the different federal clearances I had gotten, the different federal organizations I worked with, everything.  "You're that woman?" The obnoxious officer asked me.  "I'm a woman, as for what you're referring to I have no idea," I answered over my shoulder as I headed out of the office.  I knew, I just didn't want to go there with this buffoon.  My life had bee my own and I wasn't about to let these backwoods idiots turn it upside down.  I had come back to Arkansas because I wanted to get away from the notoriety, I wanted to remain anonymous.  That part of my life was over and I had worked damn hard to begin a new phase.   I had always despised those who were the media hogs, always jumping in front of a news camera and giving interviews at the drop of a hat.  It had never been my cup of tea and that wasn't going to change now. 

The younger, better mannered officer followed me to the break room and tried to approach me.  "Ma'am," he started politely, "can I please talk to you?"  "What about, " I replied giving him a hard look that would normally have shriveled the resolve of most.  This man had guts and was willing to walk into a lion's den to get his answers, I was starting to respect him - a little.  "Can we go somewhere and talk privately," he asked.  "Why not," I said and led him outside to the tables and chair behind the clinic.  I sat down, lit a cigarette and waited for him to start.  I could see his hands tremble ever so slightly as he lit one also after taking a seat across from me.  "Ma'am," he began, "most people in my line of work would give their eye teeth or their right arm to have been involved in all of the work you've done."  "Yes," was all I said.  "Why aren't you with the FBI or Homeland Security or some other agency?" He asked in true amazement.  I just laughed out loud, not at him but at his statement.  "I've done been there, done that and they had nothing of interest to offer me," I replied to him.  "But," he started again, "you could have gotten any assignment you wanted, you could have written your own ticket..."  "Yes," I answered him, "I could have but like I said they couldn't offer me anything that interested me.  I wasn't about to sell my soul for more notoriety and nonsense.  I'm not a commodity, I am my own person and make my own decisions.  Are you finished, have you gotten the information you wanted?"  I asked him, I was tired of these questions and wanted to be left in peace.  "You know that any agency you went with would have made any special arrangements you wanted or needed to accommodate your illness," he said as if I didn't already know this fact.  "Yeah," I said, "I know, it's also federal law that they accommodate anyone with a disability."  "But..." he started again.  "Let it go," I said to the young man.  "I'm were I'm at because I want to be here, I worked hard for this and I like my chosen profession.  Accept that fact and leave it and me alone.  I'm happy, is that so hard to understand?"  I asked him  He shook his head no and thanked me for my time as he got up from the table to leave.  "About the way you got that kid onto the floor without hurting him," the officer asked me, "can you maybe give a class on that?"  "Why, too many of your 'boys in blue' getting too rough with the regular folks?"  I asked him in a sarcastic tone.  "Yes," was all he said.  "Find a local guy who teaches Aikido and have them take some classes from him, that should do the trick," was all I gave him.  I refused to get involved in trying to change the mentality and behavior of a bunch of backwoods cowboys with guns and badges. 

The day finished out and I went back to Susan's house and laid down, my body was beginning to protest yesterday's activities, the adrenaline that had coursed through me had finally left me completely.  By the next morning I could barely get out of bed or hold a coffee cup in my hand.  I was in excruciating pain and knew what it was from, I had ruptured another disk in my back and the newly damaged nerved roots were screaming in protest.  I had another treatment scheduled for a few days off so I just waited it out and took the pain medications prescribed to me just for such occasions.  My doctors knew me well enough by now that they always had a backup plan to any of the various incidents that seemed to plague my health, and these incidents were usually me.  Yes, that was a joke so go ahead and smile. I still work at that same clinic but on a part time basis.  I have since partnered with a dear friend locally and we've opened our own counseling center.  Things work well and I'm still happy with my new career.  Do I regret getting hurt when I could have easily let that boy get shot or hurt, not in the least.  The young man, Daniel, is doing much better and is under the care of a doctor who is keeping him on the appropriate medications to counteract the damage to his brain that the drug abuse caused.  Sometimes you just have to be willing to do the right things at the right time, even for people you don't know.  It's how I try to live my life, even though my doctors think I'm foolish for risking my own health and physical well being.  Oh well, they get paid to worry like old women, I on the other hand will continue to enjoy life and it's many complexities.  A tiger can't change it's stripes now can it?