Typical Day
Howie Yapheel pours himself a travel mug of coffee, and starts his commute. Eight steps down the hallway, open the door on the right, and...he's arrived at the office. Howie runs a small private practice out of his home, where he sees local families. And take it from him, the traffic is a breeze.
I think I need a bigger wall... (Source)
Howie has nine kids on the schedule for today. Usually he spends about fifteen minutes with the parents, and about the same talking to the child one-on-one. The rest of the time is usually spent playing.
Howie's friends joke that his office is one big toy store, but they're just jealous because they have to work with grownups. Howie tried a psych rotation with adults in grad school, but it just didn't interest him. Besides, he didn't get to hand out nearly as many stickers with those patients.
When he hears the first knock on the door, Howie lets in five-year-old Jax and his mom. Jax enters the room shyly, but Howie isn't fooled...he'll be cackling like a maniac as soon as he gets the puppets out. Jax is a sleepwalker, and it really freaks his parents out when they wake up to see him standing over their bed, à la Paranormal Activity. The worst incident found him in his dad's car, fiddling with the gas and brakes. It was lucky he was too short to reach the key ring.
During their consultation, Jax's mom says he only sleepwalked once during the past week, which is a vast improvement over the last few months. Howie's suggestions for a bedtime routine seem to have helped a bit. He finishes with the parents, and leads Jax to the play area. Maybe he will tell McFlufferton the cat puppet about his week.
After Jax's session, Howie takes a check from Jax's mom, and hands her an appointment card for their next visit. Howie's practice is doing pretty well, lately, due to his marketing efforts. He's been getting a surprising number of responses from the ad he ran in the local paper, advertising a "Summer deal from Dr. Yapheel!"
Self-advertising doesn't come naturally to Howie...he would much rather be playing a board game with his patients. Still, it really has improved his number of cases. And Howie can't help kids unless they walk through his door.
Next on the schedule is Angel Lopez, who comes in with her aunt. Angel lost both of her parents in a car crash six months ago. She has been understandably quiet ever since, and was failing school subjects she used to love. Howie had a hard time drawing Angel out of her shell until he discovered the girl's love of origami.
They usually spend some of each session creating different animals, especially horses, which were the favorite of Angel's late father. When he talks to Angel's aunt, he recommends a weekly activity to help them bond, even if it means buying earplugs and taking Angel to see her favorite boy band.
Believe it or not, this is not his most difficult patient to see. Howie's longest-standing patient is Janae, who was abused for years by her older cousin. This case is the hardest for Howie, because he himself was abused as a child. There is a fine line between empathizing with a patient and getting too invested, and Howie knows this. After years of struggling to find the right mixture of professionalism, Howie knows how to keep work in his office.
When his sessions are over, he closes the door firmly, removes his blazer and work shoes, and focuses on being a great father to his son. Sure, he rolls his eyes when Howie asks him how his day went, but he knows that he can always come to Howie with his problems. Now, he just needs to figure out a way to get him to do his laundry.