SAN FRANCISCO-1982

Dr. Robert Fishback, 42 years of age,  was in his office,when the phone rang.  As his receptionist had not come in yet, he took the call.  It was a Mother wanting to make an appoint for her twelve year old son.  I looked at my schedule and told her the first opening I had was three weeks from today.  I told her I would like an assessment so I would know which way to proceed and that the first appointment would be that and no treatment until I had a complete profile of the patient.  I asked her to call back and talk to the receptionist and give her the needed information.  She seemed on the verge  of tears and not wanting to pass over a possibly needed 911 call, I asked her to tell me what the problem was.  She said that her son was failing in school, and spent all his time listening to depressing music and drawing pictures of the desert and storms in the desert. He burned candles and incense and spent time walking by himself in the darkness of night.  She wondered if he was on drugs and was he in danger of killing himself.  I asked her if he had ever talked about killing himself and she said no.  I asked her to describe the atmosphere in the family home and she told me that it was stable and that she loved her husband and that they had tried so hard with Vern by giving him practically every thing he wanted.  "He would rather sleep in the shed behind the garage than in his own room which we just re-decorated for him and bought all new furniture. "He would rather sleep in that shed and burn his candles and day dream than to enjoy our very nice home. He prefers road maps to text books.  He is hopeless....he will never amount to anything."   And I said: "NOT NECESSARILY.....I think I need to adjust my schedule...tell you what, can you bring him in Saturday morning at 10 A.M?".     "Oh yes...thank you....I am afraid for him...with all these hippies and drugs...Thank you so much."  I told her good bye and for some reason....It all seemed so familiar.  (to be continued)