CROSSED WIRES

                                                            1552wdct

CROSSED WIRES       

The phone rings in Gary Schmidenbeger’s apartment. He is munching on some chips when he picks up it up. “Hello, Gary speaking.”

“Hello, this is Lindsey.”

“Dr. Palmer is that you?”

“Who…who is this?”  The woman on the other end asks.

“Gary, Gary Schmidenberger.”

“I don’t think I know you.”

“And who are you?”

“Lindsey, Lindsey Hoffmeyer and I know I don’t know you.

“But you called me and I thought you were Dr. Palmer since I had left her a message earlier.”

“Well, I was calling her with an emergency.”

“Well, she just happens to be my therapist.”

“Your therapist?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because she’s…my therapist.”

“Wow, this is really weird. How did you get my number?”

“It was the number on her card. Wait, let me look. It’s 516-739-3333.”

“Wow, that’s strange.”

“What, what’s strange?”

“My number is only one number off.”

“Hey, that is kind of spooky.”

“I guess. If you don’t mind my asking, what were you calling her about?”

“Uh…I don’t feel quite comfortable telling you.”

“I guess I can understand that. I’d feel the same...I mean I do feel the same.”

“Well…Gary—Gary is that right?

“Yes.”

“I suppose I should mention that it was an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?”

“I mean, it was sort of an emergency.”

“Go on.”

“You see, I was in kind of a…panic.”

“You can tell me…Lindsey. Is it alright if I call you Lindsey?”

“Sure.”

“So go on. Since we have each other on the phone and not Dr. Palmer, spill it out.’

“Well…alright. I do need to tell someone. I…I just ate a green potato.”

“A what?”

“A green potato.”

“So?”

“SO? Don’t you know how deadly green potatoes are? I couldn’t really see it was green until I finished most of it.”

She heard Gary laughing at the other end.

“It’s not funny!”  

“Oh no, I’m sorry, please don’t be offended. It’s just that I’ve never heard of green potatoes being…poisonous.”

“Well, I looked it up on the internet and they are!”

“Are you sure?”

“I called poison control…and oh, that only made it all worse.”

“Why, what did they say?”

“Well, I was put on hold. Can you imagine? Then a woman got back on the phone and when I told her about the potato she asked why I ate it. Because the light bulb was out I said, and I couldn’t see it was green. Then she told me to hold again, that she had another call. And so I held on for almost ten minutes before she came back. I mean, I could have gone into shock by then or threw up at the least.

“Hmm, I suppose.”

“Well when she finally came back she said green potatoes produce this toxin

called Solanine and to watch out for certain signs.”

“What kind of signs?”

“Like vomiting, diarrhea, stomach pains, rash, trouble breathing, dizziness and oh, yes, death. I mean how do you watch for death?”

“Wow, you musta freaked out!”

“Of course! Then she put me on hold again because she now had another call. I mean, don’t they have more than one person dealing with poisoning? So I just hung up. You see, I have this anxiety disorder about food and swallowing things. Does it sound too bizarre?”

“No, of course not. I understand panic. I have it myself, you know.”

“You do?”

“Well, we are both seeing Dr. Palmer.”

 “Oh sure, of course. So what is your panic about?”

“Look, I don’t have to confide in you.”

“Oh no, please do. After all, I did. It’s only fair.”

“Alright…but it’s hard to explain. You see whenever I go out…and I do have a GPS, a smart phone and a compass in my car, I have a fear of getting lost. I mean, every time I make a turn, things look different. As if I’m on another planet or in another country. Even my own block—sometimes I go around it 3 or 4 times until I realize it is my block. So I start to panic and sometimes never leave the house… Fortunately I do computer work at home so I can still earn money. It all seems to have started when I drove to my brother who was living in New Jersey. Well, I followed the instructions but my GPS wasn’t working and when I went over the G.W. bridge, I hit the Jersey Turnpike and I couldn’t get off. I mean, seriously, I just kept driving and driving and the exits were so far apart and I guess I panicked so I never got off. I mean…I think I was in other state. Is there another state on that road? It’s so upsetting, even still, I can’t talk about it. I never got to my brother’s. Ended up turning around and going all the way back home to Long Island and…I guess I can tell you—peeing my pants. I think I was driving for…maybe…five hours straight. And that’s when it started—the confusion and the fear of getting lost. Does it sound…ah, crazy to you?”

“No crazier than green potatoes. Is that what you’re seeing Dr. Palmer for?”

“That and my fear of cats?”

“Cats?”

“Yeah…”

“Even cute, cuddly little kittens.”

“Well, I don’t see much of those on the streets. Just black, wild looking ones.”

“Oh, too bad. I have the most adorable calico one. It’s really very sweet.”

“You do?” 

“Yes, and it sure isn’t frightening.”

“Well, that’s easy for you to say when you panic over a green potato.”

“Well, now I’m sorry I even told you.”

 “I’m sorry, Lindsey. Are there other things you’re afraid of as well?”

“Well, yes. Foods with bones, so fish and chicken are out. Skins on fruits. Mostly swallowing.”

“Oh, what so what have you left to eat?”

“It isn’t really helping if we can’t be more supportive.”

“Of course, you’re right—that’s why we’re seeing Dr. Palmer.”

“How…how long have you been going to her?”

“I’m…I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Don’t be. This isn’t even my first therapist. I had one for five years before her.”

“Me too. Actually I just switched to her only about five months ago.”

“For me, it’s almost a year now. Have you noticed sometimes she seems to be nodding off? I think I must be boring her, or feel as if I am.

“You know, I’ve noticed it too. So what do you do?”

“I try to say something funny, or even ridiculous, and that seems to get her attention.”

“Yeah. But on the whole, do you feel you’re making progress?”

“Well, I can now eat the crusts on bread, take a small vitamin with some applesauce, and eat an everything bagel without picking out the seeds. The other day I had a prune and often times I would think I might have swallowed the pit but this time I didn’t even look in the garbage to make sure it was there.”

“Well, that sounds like progress.”

“And you?”

“Well, it’s still only five months, but the other day I found the drugstore, which is five blocks away…in only six minutes.”

“Really?

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

 “No, no, forgive me. I tend to sarcasm at times.”

“Did you hear that?” They both hear a click on the phone.

“I think it might be call waiting. Let me see…Hello, hello.”

“Hello, to whom am I speaking?” There is different voice on the other end.

“Dr. Palmer, it’s me Gary. I was trying to reach you when I got Lindsey,

Lindsey Hoff…something, on the phone.”

“Hoffmeyer?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Yes, it’s me, Dr. Palmer, Lindsey Hoffmeyer.”

“How did this happen?”

“I couldn’t say, Dr. Palmer, perhaps a crossed wire, but Lindsey and I have been talking, really talking.”

“Oh no, this is terrible. We have Hippa laws and what about patient confidentiality?”

“Well, it wasn’t deliberate. I mean it just happened.”

“This is very, very serious. We’ll just have to discuss this in session and I suggest we all hang up now.

“Of course, Dr. Palmer.”

“Sure thing. Goodbye, Dr. Palmer.” Gary hangs up. “ Gee, she sure is one humorless dame.”

“I’ll say.”

“Hey Lindsey, would you like to go out and get a drink? I mean you’re not married or anything—are you?”

“No, divorced…and you?”

“Me too. My wife said my neurosis was making her nuts. She started going to therapy herself and then…well…she and the psychologist she was seeing got involved and…

ended up living together.”

“Well…I guess these things can be hard for others to understand. Mine left—not for another woman but to become a Buddhist in some village in India where he met a guru and said he had finally found his true love. I was crying a lot then. I couldn’t put eye-make on for almost a year. You know…maybe I would like to go for that drink. But wait, I’ll pick you up. It might…I mean it could…take you a while and I wouldn’t want you to come in—You know, because of the cat.”

“Yeah, I get it. Well, we sure as hell better not let Dr. Palmer get wind of this.”

“Maybe we should just stick to email in the future.”

“Future—has a nice ring to it.

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