Last week I bought an appointment book for 2009. For me, and almost all of my colleagues, at least those over forty, and certainly over fifty, having a concrete, paper and pen, write it down appointment book is so much easier than anything electronic.
I moved my office a couple of months ago. I moved just down the hall. But in doing so I emptied out the shelves of the old office. I put over twenty appointment books into a big box and lugged them home for storage. All of them are Week-At-A-Glance types. My brain is set to see the whole week laid out before me. If the hours are not all filled in a feel a bit guilty, even though now, since I hurt my back, I am trying to leave spaces.
One thing I get from this job is a clear sense of time. Hour by hour, just like it is in the book. I feel the week, the month, the year, my life pass by. If I am sitting and talking to friends I can tell when the conversation has lasted fifty minutes. The timer in my brain goes off. I need to change positions, change topics, talk to someone new.
Yet, I don't feel my life is passing by. It seems much more like it is exactly the same. I am amazed that I have aged. I feel the same. I do the same thing -- although I am much better at it now -- and I just keep going, hour after hour. She is my "nine o'clock,"he is my "ten o'clock." Very often someone will take that spot for six months, a year, sometimes even two years, although usually if they are still coming after a year, they are coming less frequently,but some people last a long time. For a while I had all my ten o'clock appointments trained to bring coffee. But now only one is left. I have to get the new ones up to speed.
I picked up one of the appointment books that was ten years old. The hours were filled in. I could remember about ninety per-cent of the people; their faces, their dilemmas, and how they were when they left. About five people are seeing me now, although they all had been away for at least a couple of years, some have come back a few times But for most of them, I don't know where they are now. Their stories continue without me.
I'd love to have a big reunion and see how everything turned out. But HIPAA won't allow that.
4 comments:
HIPAA has been both a blessing and a curse. Privacy is great, but just think of how comforting (and fun) that reunion would be! I often want to tell my pharmacist or doctors, please tell **** I said hello, but of course, they can't and so the human connections are left unmade and a touch of isolation exists. I can imagine how powerful carrying 10 years of schedule books would have been for me; I'd have enjoyed that immensely. Ever considered getting rid of them? I think I'd be at least tempted.
I'm a long term soul. been 6 years with the same therapist. It is the most awesome relationship and still I am Tuesday at 5:00. I have often asked does he ever wonder about clients from the past. 10 years from now I hope I still have some kind of contact.I would imagine both client and therapist would cherish a reunion.
I love to keep my week at a glance appointment books and look through them to remember the things that I did and the people who were in my life at certain times. I think about throwing them out, but haven't managed to do so yet.
I was thinking that clients enjoy being the center of the therapist's attention and wouldn't want to share the spotlight with the others around.
I know what you mean. I've met and heard many stories over the years (though certainly not as many as you have!) and often wonder how they turned out.
Never had a class reunion either.
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