Three years ago, the most frustrating therapist to try to teach up-to-date practice patterns was Pam. I’ll probably never forget her approaching me at the office one day and saying to me, “When you are scheduling these teaching-things, feel free to leave me for last. I’m just here for another few years and the less I have to learn the better.”
. . . .
I taught her the new materials anyway. I was later assigned to meet with her every 2 weeks to review her caseload with her.
Since I have been moved into middle-management, Pam has been calling. A lot. More questions than ever before. It had gotten to the point that everyone screened their calls … everyone accept me. The running joke at the office has been, “Don’t answer it, it might be Pam.”
When my resignation was announced, Pam approached me tearfully, wondering why I was leaving. This (my last) week, she insisted on taking me out for breakfast; I had a cinnamon bagel with butter and black tea. She was even kind enough to give me a card, which I thought was nice. In it she wrote:
Thanks for all your help and encouragement. You made me a better PT. I will miss you.
I don’t know that it mattered, but it turns out that I had made a small difference.
I needed to resign to see it.