Losing Control and Finding What’s Really Important

I lose track of things: scissors, pens, tape measures, and sometimes even time. But I have never lost track of a patient, that is, until the other day. It was a crazy day with lots of distractions. I had to deal with an insurance company, trying to get paid for work I had done more than a year before, and after that I spent an hour on a webinar learning how to write better chart notes. By then, my 2 p.m. appointment was now my 4 p.m. To top it off, he had a computerized “smart” knee that couldn’t talk to my dumb computer. After 30 minutes spent talking to tech support, downloading a driver, and offering some serious blessings, they finally understood each other. My office manager, Trudy, stuck her head in the door a little after 5 p.m. and told me she was headed home. I finished modifying a cast and then was turning off the lights about 6 p.m. when I heard a voice say, “Hey, I’m afraid of the dark.” I switched the lights back on, walked up front, and found Ms. Celia in room three.