Winter 2010

Dr. Dennis Dean organized the stack of papers on his office desk. His private therapy practice was small, but at least it was his. That’s what he had always wanted.

Yes, it had taken some enormous sacrifices to become his own boss. Long nights studying his patients’ files, considering the best possible courses of treatment, and then exhausting himself by accepting more and more of those in need of his help.

Suffering from neglect since their marriage after college, Bridgette had divorced him in 2007. It was for the best, he concluded. Without an insufferable nag constantly asking for adventurous trips and romantic moments, he could focus on what truly mattered.

His office chair squeaked as he spun to a filing cabinet and carefully split up the papers into separate hanging folders.

Dr. Dean thought to himself carefully if this actually was what he wanted. To be his own boss and treat individual patients. After all, these patients would ghost him in the middle of a therapy plan, or worse yet, leave when healed without even as much as a ‘thank you’.

Once the files were properly attended to, he shut the cabinet drawer and stood up. He calmly put on his corduroy jacket, grabbed his briefcase, and headed toward the door.

Just as he went to turn off the lights on his exit, the phone at his desk began to ring. Dr. Dean quizzically turned his head and looked at the phone knowing that he would rarely get a call this late at night. Intrigued, he walked back to his desk and picked up the phone.

“This is Dr. Dennis Dean,” he answered.

A moment passed as he listened to the caller carefully.

“Greater Memphis Psychiatric Institute?” Dr. Dean asked.

Another couple of moments passed as he let the caller explain.

“Yes, I did write that paper on the effects of long-term management for the mentally depraved… well, yes, I might be interested in coming down for a meeting at your facility.”

Dr. Dean’s eyebrows furrowed as the caller continued to talk before finally answering one last time.

“Tuesday at 10 a.m., yes, I’ll be there. Thank you very much for your call.”

He placed the phone back on the receiver and continued back to be leaving his office. At the last moment before turning off the lights, he looked back at the simple desk, and carefully arranged chairs and sofa.

Was this truly what he wanted?

It appeared a new opportunity to help even more people had presented itself.

Perhaps he could help even more people if he were employed at an actual facility.