RESTRAINT OF TONGUE AND PEN

Over the years, I have learned everything I think does not require my expression. If I do not practice restraint of tongue and pen, I will have to apologize for my ill-tempered words. I certainly had a close call last week.

Earlier in the year, I had seen a depressed, young man and received many phone calls from his distraught mother. Her son kept two therapy appointments. As we approached his issues, he became a phantom patient. He missed his three subsequent visits and followed none of my recommendations. Occasionally, he would call for an appointment. When I returned his call, he did not answer and his message machine was full.

I had not seen him for six months. Last week, he called, left a message and urgently requested/demanded that I write a letter on his behalf and fax it to his attorney. First, I always see the patient immediately prior to preparing a letter for the court. Second, I'm like a Missouri mule. A patient can politely ask me for a favor, and I will usually accommodate them. However, I refuse to respond to a demand.

Weary of being treated like a free Psychiatric 7-11, I promptly returned the call. To my surprise, I could leave a message. I reminded him that he had missed several appointments, and I was not a get-out-of-jail-free card. Yes, I was a little over the top, but he was the end of a long line of entitled young men, who have paraded through my office and mistook me for their mother.

A few hours later, after a long day of seeing patients, I received a voice message from the young man's mother. She was irate and unkind. As it often happens, the young "adults," problems stem from overly indulgent caregivers.

I was exhausted, infuriated and hurt. I wanted to call her back and tell her what I thought, but I refrained. I knew I needed to sleep on the situation.

The following morning, I composed a rational, professional letter for the mother and itemized the series of events that led up to previous day. I was grateful that I used restraint of tongue and pen, because I did not want to apologize to her or her recalcitrant offspring.

AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY

Tracy Letts,
Brilliant,
Comedic,
Sad,
Oklahomans,
We're fair game,
With our burping and slurping.

Beverly, Violet and their kin,
Deep varicose veins of psychopathology,
But, not restricted to them,
Same story, different slang,
From New York to L.A.,
My God,
Haven't they had a belly full yet?



Addendum: On the last leg of my journey, this piece fell from the sky, also known as cosmic downloading. I believe we create our reality by our thoughts, which result in our actions and emotions of like kind. A work of "art" which glorifies the appalling dysfunction of our society, contributes little to the collective healing of the human community.