chocolate overload

It was a quiet affair - Roberta and I sprang for subs, brought drinks and desserts and invited all the medical record assistants (also known as ward clerks) for lunch.  We were sitting around, talking and stuffing our faces when she walked in.

"i heard there was chocolate in here."  she walked on in the room with a frown on her face, marched up to the table, picked up a plate and said - "they tell me i'm grumpy, and this might help."  she looked over the table and said - "aha, there's LOTS of chocolate here."  she proceeded to load the plate, stopped, turned and looked at everybody - "i'm dr. atkinson," shrugged and went back to loading her plate.

i love that woman.  i've known her since my time as ward clerk on the residential MH unit, and if ever a psychiatrist belonged in prison, it's her.  i do her transcription now, and  the first few times, i was in stitches - NOT because of what the patients were going through, necessarily, but because of the direct quotes.  "He says he can't hold a job because the boss man always pisses him off and he quits."

was i supposed to type that?

"He is currently in the segregation unit because he called the officer on the floor an ass hole."

was i supposed to type that?

well heck yeah, she said it, didn't she?.  so i threw some quotation marks around the words and plowed on.  and once - "he says he wants to be transferred to another unit because, he says, this isn't a hospital - it's a prison!" 

sometimes i see her in the hallway and ask how she's doing.  once she said - Well, I'm fine, but my little dog...I think I have to put her on some medication.  She's depressed.

and today when i asked - are you feeling better after your chocolate?  she said - no, i'm pissed off.

well...why?

she held up her hand.  "I had to have surgery on my hand and I can't drive.  I'm an independent person - when I want to go somewhere, I don't want to have to ask somebody who'll say, 'well, let's wait a little while'.  I want to go THEN.  That second!"

"how long can you not drive?"

she snickered.  "as soon as i think i can drive, i'm driving.  i'm a doctor, you know.  And when I get home today, i'm calling my son - my husband and i aren't getting along right now - I'm calling my son and we're going to charlotte."

i get the feeling that not many people ask dr. atkinson how her day is going.  i sped back to the office, picked up one of the chocolate oranges someone gave me, whacked that sucker on the edge of the desk and took half of it to dr. atkinson.

"here, you need this more than i do."

not long ago, dr. h told me dr. a would be adding a close custody facility to her workload.  it has a reputation for being one of the worst prisons to work for, and i said.."well, i hope she can handle it."  dr. h looked at me with an amused expression on his face and said, "oh no, my dear, it's best to hope THEY can handle HER.

he has a point.

she's a trip, and i love it.