“Yet you’re praised for your work as a physician, you told me so. But you’re not happy in your work.”
“Sometimes I am,” she said. “When I can actually make a difference in a life. It’s usually simple and routine—prescribing the right drugs or changing a diagnosis through medical intervention. It’s just that... Well, it seems so simple and brief. Catching an A-fib, for example, prescribing a blood thinner, getting them to the cardiologist, a follow-up, and with the right aftercare, the prognosis is excellent. I do like the feeling of that even if it is routine.”
“Let’s take a different path. When are you happiest and not associated with work?”
She chewed her lip for a moment. “Recently, when I was dating Patrick. More to the point, when Patrick was courting me. When he was calling me all the time. Sometimes it was only a quick call or text to ask me for a special date or to clarify where and when. Or when we were together to do something low-key, like cuddling on the sofa, watching a movie. Or those few times I cooked for us and we ate in, just the two of us. I had only been going out with him for a couple of weeks when I began to have fantasies of being together and doing something quiet. Forever. It wasn’t necessarily marriage, but rather some certainty. A feeling of belonging. Safety.” She laughed lightly. “Patrick has a sailboat he loves. That is not a quiet pastime. Believe me, it’s work.”
“What are your hobbies?”
“I don’t really have any,” she said with a shrug.
“Do you hike? Jog? Knit? Work out? I know about sailing and I get the impression you find it to be something of a chore.”
“I read,” she said. “I like movies. I like to cook but at the end of a long day I don’t usually have the energy it takes to create something labor-intensive. But when I have time I love to slice, chop, measure, sauté... It’s relaxing and calming.”
“If you wanted to spend the afternoon doing something you find relaxing and enjoyable, what might it be?”
“An art gallery or museum,” she said. “God knows there are plenty to choose from in San Francisco. And this is very nerdy, but I could spend hours in the library or in a bookstore. You’d think, after all my years studying in libraries that wouldn’t appeal to me much, but it’s never grown old.”
“Art museums or libraries, alone or with friends?” he asked.
“I don’t mind going alone but I would go with a friend, but—I don’t have many friends who find that fun. Most people I know like parties. I’m not much for parties. My last boyfriend and I took a lot of trips together with a group and really...” She shrugged.
“Does being with a lot of people make you tired?” he asked.
She grew impatient. “I don’t see what this has to do with me being irritable,” she said, conscious of the fact that she was acting irritable. “Yes, large groups of people make me tired. See, I’m not fun.”
“Who says you’re not fun?”
“I don’t like the same things other people like. I don’t like big gatherings or parties or big groups of people. I’d rather watch sports on TV than go to a stadium and have some fan spill his beer down my back. And the sailboat—it’s so lovely, but you have to work hard before you get to rest in the sun with a book! Hasn’t he ever heard of a hammock!”
Dr. Norton laughed heartily at that. “You make a very fine point. It may take us a while to find the problem, if there is one. Would you mind telling me about your family?”
With a heavy sigh, she started with her mother, clearly the overachiever in the family. Then she described Michael, who was Mr. Personality, tireless, active in every and any sport. And finally Bess, the brilliant oddball and youngest of them all. Then she told him about the will and the fact that they all had different opinions of it. She was the only one who was angry that they’d never been told, annoyed because it hadn’t been explained by her father ahead of time so they could all adjust to the news.
They talked for another forty minutes and she mainly answered questions that seemed to revolve around describing herself. She grew exhausted.
“I have a couple of preliminary ideas and I don’t think they’ll surprise you. You’re an introvert. A card-carrying introvert. You are exhausted being around groups of people, particularly active people. Introverts are known for having to take a nap after a day of meetings and they almost always go home early from loud parties. You’re not in the least shy and you don’t dislike people, but you like them in small doses. And you have a bit of a temper. That’s not something I’ve seen in you but something you have reported. It’s possible you haven’t managed your expectations of others, which can lead to disappointment. Those two things—temper and expectations—are very easily managed and even changed through modified behavior exercise. Given your discipline, you could probably do it without supervision if you really wanted to change it. Or I’d be happy to see you for a few weeks and guide you through it, if it’s important to you.”
“How long would it take?” she asked.
“Did you ever ask your father how long someone would have to be in therapy to achieve certain results?”
“I never had to ask,” she said. “He sometimes described certain nameless patients and their problems and some of them were going to see him for years!”
“Well, that is not the case with you. I can’t say this with absolute certainty without thorough testing, but I don’t believe you suffer from any sort of mental disorder that would require long-term therapy and even drug therapy. You have a few personality quirks that I suspect are more force of habit than anything. Some guidance and tweaking might benefit your overall sense of well-being.”
“Will it make me happy?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I’m often surprised by where people find happiness. Some poor souls find it in horrible and dangerous places, but you aren’t one of those people. I usually caution my clients to be very careful in looking for happiness because it can be elusive, sneaky, even diabolical and tricky. But if I help you find a sense of well-being and confidence you may blink once and think, That felt like happiness. Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be—a quote most often attributed to Abraham Lincoln.”
“Well, let me ask you this,” she said. “Are you happy?”
“Oh, I’m tremendously happy. Every day. My wife says I’d be happy in a ditch with bombs falling on my head. I don’t think that’s entirely true. I suffered through a hemorrhoidectomy very unhappily and I was very grumpy. But I had heart bypass surgery and it was difficult but I was very happy to be alive and was praised as the best patient in ICU.”
She made a face and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I’m being had,” she said.
“Would you like to appraise again in, say, six weeks?” he asked.
“Is that what you recommend?” Jessie asked.
“Here’s what I think, Jessie. I think, given your intelligence, discipline and determination to excel, you will have a very good life with or without me. But if you also want joy, I might know a shortcut or two.”
“Does that line always work?”
“Most of the time,” he said. “Life’s surprises can get in the way or delay progress, you know how it is. But you’re sitting in a nice spot right now. I predict good results for you. What do you say?”
She thought for a moment. Although she was tired from talking about herself, tired from digging into her emotions, she had rather enjoyed the hour. “What have I got to lose? Let’s see where we are in four weeks.”
“Excellent. Listen, do you like cats?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I just had a thought. You might like having one. They’re very independent, answer to no one, usually self-sufficient, sometimes affectionate, more often not, but... But they’re company. There’s something about being owned by one that fills the lonely space with a presence. And hair. Tons of hair. I have a cat. And a robo vac.” There was the sound of a door closing in the hall. “I have a group starting shortly. When would you like to come back?” He pulled his iPad from his desk, opened it and said, “I have Tuesdays at five for the next several weeks, if you’re interested.”
She took it. And as she was leaving his building, she felt oddly relieved.