Publication
Article
Psychiatric Times
Author(s):
"Tell him I’m sorry I still owe him money..."
Andy Dean/AdobeStock
$240
47-year-old insurance salesman,
depressed, alcoholic came in
eight times, once with his wife.
Stiffed me on the co-pays.
Lost his checkbook, forgot
his wallet. He liked to tell
stories, always the victim.
He was good at his work.
Sold me two months of BS.
And I bought it.
$1260
25-year-old sometime actress,
kept getting fired from day jobs.
Boyfriend beat her, stole her car.
She was pretty some days.
Wore too much lipstick,
smeared it on her
front teeth. Insurance paid
when she had it and she lied
when she didn’t. Saw her off
and on for a couple of years.
She’d scream at me when
I’d ask her to pay. One day
she turned over two chairs
and fired me. I didn’t take her
to collection.
$30
61-year-old entrepreneur, bad
diabetes. Did drugs, stopped,
survived a divorce, brightened up.
Then he loses a toe, another,
then his foot, his leg. Infection
lingers, terrible pain. Starts using.
Misses an appointment,
misses another. I call him.
No answer. A month goes by.
His son is on the phone.
Suicide. The note says tell
the doc he was my best friend.
Tell him I’m sorry
I still owe him money.
Dr Berlin has been writing a poem about his experience of being a doctor every month for the past 27 years in Psychiatric Times in a column called “Poetry of the Times.” He is an instructor in psychiatry, University of Massachusetts Medical School, Worcester, Massachusetts. His latest book is Tender Fences.