Unexpected News

I got to my appointment on time yesterday, but the receptionist seemed a little flustered when I introduced myself and said that I had an appointment with so-and-so at such-and-such a time. She fretted her brow and asked if I had gotten the phone message about the cancellation of the appointment. I said no I hadn't and asked what I should do. She said she needed to go and speak with someone quickly. So I took a seat somewhat reverently - the tone in the office was very hushed (when I got home I checked both the machine and with my wife, and we indeed had not gotten a message on the machine - a simple mistake).

Then the psychometrist appeared from the hallway and somberly ushered me into a side room off of the hallway. She looked so serious, and I wondered what had transpired that afternoon to distract her so much. She gently told me that she was sorry, but that the meeting had been canceled, and asked if I had heard. I replied with a quiet uncertain smile 'No? Heard what?'

Her body slumped and her eyes began to tear up - the kind, gentle psychiatrist with whom I'd first met, and who was leading my case suddenly passed away a couple of days ago. She looked lost and very sad - and still couldn't believe it had happened. She'd worked with him for nearly two decades - he'd taken her under his wing. She looked so sad.

We spoke for a few minutes, and at the end I arranged with her for another appointment in a couple of weeks - they'll need time to transfer the cases over and to recover from the utter shock. I will repeat the first meeting with an associate psychiatrist - one who had trained under this man - with the benefit of his original notes, and the fact that he and the psychometrist had spoken about my case afterward. I will then have the meeting I had appeared for yesterday - with a clinical psychologist.

She said that you'd have never known - because of his humble and kind nature - but if you did research on him, you'd learn that he was 'a giant in the field of psychiatry', highly accomplished and talented. He would treat millionaire CEOs exactly the same as a young custodian mopping the floors. He had an otherworldly nature about him. He was their 'light', she added with a hopeful and wistful smile.

I am sad and was shaken all last evening by it.

Take care,

Mungo

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Cheers,

Mungo