23 September 2027
Thursday. A group of four tried to check in tonight after what they called “a couple of quiet ones”. They were not quiet. They were turned away.
I support this entirely. A patient under the influence is not ready for treatment. They cannot concentrate, they laugh at the wrong moments and, worst of all, they are not frightened enough. Therapy is wasted on the relaxed.
Telephones, cameras and those little watches go into lockers before the door closes. Patients sometimes ask why. Because, my darlings, what happens in the cell stays in the cell. Confidentiality is the foundation of every practice, and mine is no exception.
The rejected four rebooked for a Tuesday, sober, a quarter of an hour early, exactly as asked. They were MARVELLOUS. One of them apologised to the intercom for last time. Nobody has ever apologised to the intercom.
I have given them a gold star each. They do not know. That is the best kind of gold star.
— Your Therapist
