CRK

 What a difference just a few weeks makes.   On July 18th, Genevieve and I flew to Michigan and you returned from camp two days later.  Two weeks apart was rougher than I'd expected.  Talking and texting with you helped.  I missed your physical presence, though. We'd only barely started touching when you traveled to camp Willborough, place of your child and teen memories of Scout traditions, adventures, learning, and friends.  Only barely had we kissed, grazing lips gently--tentatively, holding each other with layers of clothing and some doubt and joy and promise.   Your voice on the phone felt warm and comfortable, teasing, listening, laughing.  I could picture your head tilting when you stretched out, "Yeeesss."  We spent a night on the lake deck watching fireflys and the sunset so late I got locked out of the cottage.  Everywhere I looked, stories of my childhood trips to Lake Michigan rose like ghosts from the sand.  A...

 Years ago I had a patient who worked at our local call center.  She'd have been deemed "high maintenance."  I also took care of both her parents.  Her mom was frail and chronically ill.  Her father struggling to take care of his wife and not strong himself.  My patient, LM, struggling to take care of them both.  She was under-employed in the call center due to some of her own chronic health conditions.  Trained as a musician and an artist if I remember correctly.  LM also has a son with multiple mental health and physical health struggles; she worked likely hundreds of hours to get him support and diagnoses and treatment and benefits and housing and assistance and support in college in his computer science endeavors. The reason she took so much time was because she'd message me almost daily regarding a detailed question about hers or her mother's care.  At that time I did not yet have her son in my patient panel and heard of him only th...