Typical Day
Basil Phillips begins his day with a whiff of roasted rosemary. He found a funny bacon alarm clock online that's supposed to heat a metal tray of raw bacon to wake you up every morning, but as a vegetarian, he decided to adjust the formula a bit to fit his lifestyle.
Now the clock grills a few sprigs of one of his favorite herbs every sunrise, naturally purifying his air and allowing him to wake up without the jarring sound of ringing bells.
He takes a deep breath and then calmly steps out of bed. He has a few hours before work so he decides to spend some time practicing to steady his hands. When he first felt the calling toward working as a healer, he'd wanted to become an acupuncturist, but soon learned the hard way that his quivering fingers weren't quite up to the task. He unboxes his copy of Operation, determined to practice away his shaky hands.
Eventually he dresses and moves into his office, where he works as an aromatherapist and herbologist. He believes in keeping things loose, so he has no opening or closing hours, nor does he accept appointments. People can walk in when they like, choose to wait if he's seeing another patient, or leave and come back another time. It doesn't earn him as much money as, say, a neurologist might make, but it allows him to relax and practice what he likes, how he likes.
It's 12:00PM before someone walks in. He recognizes her immediately as Sarah Pollsberry, a longtime patient. As she enters the lobby, she stops and smells the air.
"Don't tell me, don't tell me," she says, as if Basil was about to tell her something. (Spoiler alert: he wasn't.) She sniffs again. "Melicia officinalis," she concludes. "Sometimes better known as 'common balm.' Known for the slightly minty, slightly lemony scent of its leaves."
Basil scratches the back of his head. "Actually, Sarah, it's just lemon-scented Lysol you're smelling. Sorry, just cleaned up in here."
Sarah shrugs, not embarrassed.
"Come," he says. "Join me."
Basil guides her into his examination room, which is little more than a medical table and shelves upon shelves of various herbs. Most are bottled, though some are growing from pots of soil. The scents compete with each other for dominance. It smells...weird.
"Smells wonderful," Sarah says.
"What can I do for you?" Basil asks.
Sarah explains that she's had a headache since about 3:00PM yesterday, then a cramp in her back started later in the evening. She's been feeling extra stressed at work and is worried that things are going to keep getting worse if she doesn't do something.
Basil spends some time asking her questions, ranging from the tenor of her relationship with her mother to her recent diet and exercise habits. She answers the latter in half a sentence, and chooses to spend the rest of the time talking about her mother.
Basil selects a few herbs and offers to sell her the bottles at his special discount rate. She accepts happily. He also recommends lavender oil, to be heated and diffused ten minutes prior to the next scheduled contact with her mother.
The rest of the afternoon consists of two more appointments. One is a new client who's been "curious about herbs for a long time." The other is a man named Tom Hills, Basil's oldest and most frequent client. Tom swears by the work of Basil and has always gone to him first before considering traditional treatments. Basil has had to send him to the traditional practitioner twice before. No matter how much he wishes it weren't the case, root canals and gallbladder removals just can't be handled with St. John's wort.
When Tom has left, Basil shuts the doors and lights a stick of incense. He dims the lights and sits on a mat by the door with his legs crossed, then closes his eyes and begins to meditate. If his day had involved any stresses at all, he's absolutely positive they'd have melted away in that moment. For now, life is good.