Betty said “It’s really an all-time low for the clinic.” The
administration was panicked and trying to fill holes.
Add the fact that patients are meaner around the holidays
and it was the perfect tinderbox. “It’s tough right now,”
I said. “I don’t know what’s happening. I think I almost
just had a panic attack,” Betty said. “I’m a good one to have
around if you’re going to have one of those,” I said. Betty
started flailing her arms and waving her hands and crying.
“Don’t forget to hyperventilate.” She threw one of the
bedpans and it penetrated a wall and stayed there. Then
she grew to the size of the room. “You’re like a giant right
now,” I said. Betty ran through the wall and jumped through
the ceiling and was gone. I heard an explosion and a car
alarm far off. She came back the next day and was back
to being her usual self. She thanked me for my empathy.
“That’s what you do when you love someone,” I said.
A man somersaulted into the waiting room, screaming
something I couldn’t quite make out. “That was a pretty
good somersault,” I said. “Get them off me!” He said. “I
would if I could see them,” I said. “I’m going to lose it!”
He said. “They are all over me.” “I can see that,” I said.
Everybody in the waiting room was staring and not even
making an effort to distract themselves. “Can you point
to one on your skin?” I said. He rolled up his sleeve and
pointed to an elderly woman over by the depression fliers.
“Right there,” He said.