Chapter 4
"Dr. Johnson-Angelo's office," she said into the phone. "No, I'm sorry; the doctor won't be in today. We're in the midst of canceling all of his appointments. I'm sorry, ma'am, he didn't say when he would be back. Let me put you on hold for a minute." The secretary pressed a button on the telephone and it rang in John's home. He let it ring a few times and then despondently reached his hand over and picked it up. "Doctor, this is Gayle. Can I tell your patients when you'll be returning? I really don't mean to disturb you but..."
"You can tell them anything you like Gayle. I just can't seem to get it together."
"Doctor, if you don't mind me saying--maybe working will be a good distraction for you. You know how you come to life when you're around your patients."
"Who are you to tell...?" and then he stopped himself. "I'm sorry, Gayle, I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at all of this. We've worked closely for many years and I suppose I need to trust your judgment on this. I'll try to be over there by noon. Just sort of take care of me and guard me from the crowd if I need to get out again."
"Sure, Doctor, please come over by noon." She got back on the phone with the patient and said, ACome in about noon. We might be able to fit you in.@
"Well," thought Gayle, "that's great. At least we didn't have to refer this one to another group." She meditated on what a difficult specialty family medicine is. You have to be all things to all people--part physician, part psychologist, part spiritual director--and try to keep your fees low. It was not even eleven in the morning and already the office was full. A few phone calls from Gayle had gotten the word around and everyone was coming in to have their ills treated. John let himself in through the back door, his stomach knotted like a day old pretzel.
Who doctors the doctor, he thought as he felt himself being overwhelmed by the depression once again. Gayle heard him in his office and tapped on the door quietly. He even more quietly whispered "come in." She went in with a stack of phone messages and read the top one to him.
"Abbot Francis from the Salesian Monastery would like you to give him a call, Doctor."
"Can't you just give him an appointment for me, Gayle?"
"I don't think he wants to be your patient. I think he's reaching out to you."
"Well, whoever he is I've got too much to do to get involved with him. Please try to take care of those other messages as best you can."
"I will, Doctor, and I'll let the first patient come in now." In walked a healthy looking middle-aged woman who had diabetes and was there for a check-up. John felt annoyance at seeing her and knowing there were other patients out there waiting to drain him as well, but he swallowed it and began examining his patient. By the end of the session he was lost in her case and feeling somewhat improved. His work was like anesthesia for him. At five-thirty Gayle came to the door with a tray of fast food and told him she would hold the crowd off until six. He smiled the first weak smile he was able to manage in several days. Gayle came in to pick up the tray shortly before six and without warning started to sob.
"I'm sorry, Doctor Angelo. I've tried to be strong but I'm sorry for you and I'm sorry for your wife and I'm just plain sorry. I'm happy, happy that you're here and happy for what you've done to help me and please let's just get on with our work."
John held back his temper and felt the sting of the real issue--the pain underneath his anger. Trying to sound light, he said:
"Gayle, you know that when I married Beth I put her last name in front of my own. I want now more than ever to keep that name. Why would you suddenly drop it? Besides, you know that you don't need to call me Doctor anything. John is fine."
Forgive me, Doctor. I meant no disrespect to Professor Johnson-Angelo, or to you. I'm just trying to keep it together as best I can and regressed to what I called you when I first started working for you. It won't happen again."