Some patients, I know, imagine indifference in a therapist just doing the job. The opposite is true"by Anna Blundy / April 12, 2017 / Leave a comment
Published in May 2017 issue of Prospect Magazine
My patient arrived puffy and sleepy from pregnancy. Although she had self-confessed difficulties with being a female mammal (as opposed to a male one), she has surprised both of us by relaxing happily into pregnancy. She looks comfortable in all senses.
“Pete died last night,” she sighed. Her father-in-law had been ill for a year, diagnosed with terminal cancer about six months after the death of her own mother and at the same time as a particularly devastating failed second round of IVF. I feel I got to know Pete pretty well during his illness; his insistence that the extended family (including my reluctant but ultimately obedient patient) gather round his bed to listen to his recitations of TS Eliot, his detailed (though eventually ignored) funeral plans that attempted to control the living even after his death and his effort to cure himself by avoiding conventional treatment in favour of a bizarre egg-only diet of his own invention.
So, farewell, Pete who I knew so well and not at all. He is one of around 10 deaths mourned (or not) by my patients since I started working, and when his granddaughter (I have seen the evidence in scan pictures) is born in a few months time she will be my third therapy baby. The first is now three, speaks three languages, loves squirrels and wants a dog. I have also been deeply involved, and not remotely involved, in two patients’ marriages, one of which was a terrible mistake that rumbles on in our sessions.
Obviously, people tend to come into therapy in times of crisis and these are the big life events that perhaps constitute, accompany or precipitate crisis. Or, possibly, this high incidence of drama is the natural ebb and flow of any life and it’s just that the therapist has the intimate privilege of witnessing a patient’s l…