The Patient

Michelle Zinoye enters the office of Dr. Gregory Chevinsky her shrink for the past year. She has had many therapy sessions and is on the brink of figuring out her depression. Gregory has been very good with her and has been able to get lots of useful information that had been repressed inside her head. Michelle is thirty years old, has two children, and is divorced. Gregory is now in his sixties and very much a father figure type in her life. She looks forward to his sessions every Tuesday. The secretary waves her through, and she heads right into his office. 

     

His many plaques adorn the walls indicating his fine standing in the psychiatric community and his high scores during his college years. Normally, his office is clean, orderly, and has bright cheerful flowers on his desk. Today, she is amazed to see that his flowers are rotten and wilted, papers are strewn all over his desk and floor; the place is in shambles. Finally, the door opens, and in walks Dr. Chevinsky. 

“Hi,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Hi” she responds with uncertainty. 

“You are??” he says with a serious expression. 

“Michelle, your client of the past year,” she says taken aback. “Something is definitely not looking right with the doctor”. 

“Oh yes, Michelle…you never can tell, my, my, my, my Michelle.” He starts to sing the lyric to a Guns and Roses song. 

“We left off with you discovering that I had been belittled and teased as a child and that is what my depression was stemming from!” Michelle hopes it brings a flicker of recognition. 

“Oh yes. Now I remember you are the one that is obsessed with sniffing women’s panties, right?” He wags his finger at her in disapproval.

“WHAT!” she yells. “No! That is not me. I am 100% heterosexual, thank you.” Michelle is starting to feel goosebumps on her flesh at the doctor's strange behavior. 

“Well, wait that is me. Ha ha ha, never mind. Um…. You are the sex crazed nymphomaniac that likes to urinate on your partners.” 

“What the hell are you talking about? Why are you doing this? What has gotten into you?” she yells. Unconcerned he continues. 

“Ha ha! Sorry! Me again! Oh, wait, Michelle, Michelle Zinoye, the bitch that moans and moans about her problems, when all she really needs is some uppers and a man. Or is that me? I get so confused lately.” He starts to laugh insanely and rubbing his groin area.  Tears start to well up in her eyes. She has never been treated this way in all of her life. Doctor Chevinsky seems to have lost his grip on reality. As he picks his nose Michelle starts to wonder what she can do. 

“What is my next step besides a different doctor. I don’t want a different doctor because then I have to rehash everything all over again, but he is clearly off his rocker. Too long in the psychiatric field, he can’t distinguish one client from the other, himself from the clients, or the gravity of his situation.”  As she cries at the thought of switching doctors, Gregory does the unimaginable. He leaps in front of his desk, pulls out a gun then shoots himself in the head. His lifeless body hits the floor. A distraught Michelle flees the room, having yet another issue to cope with and add to her depression. It appears the doctor did discover how far beyond the norm he had gotten and took care of the situation the only way he knew how.