B etter than the godless-plumber-enemy-doctor
Dov was in his first year of medical school and being an efficient and industrious sort of guy was already looking into different specialties within the field. He had limited experience with psychiatry but he was a nephew of the nice guy who sits next to me in shul so when I got an e-mail asking if he could come in and speak with me about the profession I thought the best thing would be for him to spend an afternoon in the clinic.
He showed up on time and was dressed professionally which won him a few points off the bat. We shook hands and discussed a few basic rules that would apply like introducing himself as my student for the day asking the client permission to sit in on the visit (if they were to say no he’d have to sit out the session) and making sure to turn off his iPhone.
“That’s doable ” he said placing his phone on vibrate mode.
“No Dov… turn it ‘off-off.’ ” I smiled sternly. If Dov felt nervous or deprived about that he didn’t show it. He was a good sport.
