Amnesia

After Dr. Chantal Moore took her ten-minute break from her last counseling session, she opened her laptop to start a remote session with a new client. After switching to the proprietary counseling software, she clicked the record button. This particular software didn’t notify participants that the video session was surreptitiously recorded, a standard feature of other publicly available software.

Before the session, a rich benefactor instructed her to relay what occurred during the upcoming sessions with this client and to provide periodic updates of the client’s personal progress. Dr. Moore wasn’t taken aback when she received a phone call from her benefactor because it wasn’t the first time he had made such a request.

It’s no big deal. I wouldn’t be a psychiatrist if it weren’t for all of the assistance Mr. Ravan provided, she reassured herself.

After all, by pulling some strings, he had opened the door for her to get admitted into medical school. How? She wasn’t fully aware. She was simply grateful for the news once she graduated from Arizona State University. When she was admitted to a prestigious psychiatry residency at Columbia University without even applying, she figured it was the goodwill of her benefactor that also made the opportunity a reality. Finding a bouquet of congratulatory flowers in her condominium was all the proof she needed of his benevolence. He didn’t explicitly admit it when she called to thank him. Instead, he simply reiterated that her excellent credentials in medical school were the true reasons why she was easily admitted into the program.

After finishing her residency, Dr. Moore could have practiced anywhere she wanted. Even Tokyo, where her benefactor worked and lived, was offered as an option. But she politely declined. It wasn’t because she was ungrateful for his efforts or because she thought he had ulterior, romantic motives for the gesture. He didn’t. She declined because she loved Arizona. It was her home. Sure, the blistering summers were unbearable at times. But she was used to it. It was the place of her birth with all of her family and friends and colleagues from school awaiting her return.

I want to be in Arizona. It’s where I belong. But if you ever need anything, I mean anything, I’m here for you.

Her benefactor was disappointed she wouldn’t work directly for him but pleased, nevertheless. A polite peck on the cheek accentuated her offer and her commitment to a valued friend. Years passed. Her career and practice blossomed. Speaking engagements throughout the country fell into her lap. She even spoke at conferences in Tokyo periodically. When she did, all of her expenses were paid by her benefactor, even though she could afford it with her lucrative Scottsdale practice.