Went to the doctor today. Routine, a wellness check, prescription refills. The stuff I've been putting off. It turns out my new practice is a teaching practice. A student took my history, probed my health. It was poignant, the extent to which the student was so raw, so present, so eager to connect.
As a therapist, I'd forgotten what that feels like. To have served so few people, looked into so few eyes, that you can still see each person in three dimensions, a living, breathing being instead of a type, a face as opposed to a constellation of obligations.
Then the years set in, and you become like the doctor: walking in late, reading your patient's name off the chart, glancing up, slotting her: "young and healthy."