Social Worker

Dear reader:


Please read the concise description of the following − in keeping with the theme of "WORKING MOTHER" …

 
Valuable Services, Valuable Lives: Everyday People Making an Extraordinary Impact… 

                                The Social Worker

With a two-foot pile of paperwork atop her already crowded

desk, social worker Michiko Tawara rummages through

a drawer to find a bottle of correction fluid. At the same

time, she answers the phone, which has been ringing nonstop

for the past three hours, ever since she walked into

her windowless midtown Manhattan office at 8:00 a.m.

The caller, Thomas, is one of her many alcoholic patients,

and he is in the middle of a meltdown. A half hour later,

while still talking with Thomas, she finally locates the correction

fluid she needs to fix the information she wrote on

the state-funding form that must be post-marked today.

She completes the form and continues to talk to Thomas

while attempting to sift through 50 new e-mails that

arrived in her in-box this morning. Then the other line

rings. It’s her 2:00 p.m. appointment, wondering if she can

come in earlier, in 45 minutes. The patient says that she

has to go to her chiropractor because she threw her back

out, and 2:00 is the only time he has open. “That’s fine,

Tasha,” Michiko says, as she eyes her planner with a day

full of appointments and meetings. She’ll just have to

rearrange lunch with her mother, Michiko thinks, as she

returns to her call with the distressed Thomas.

Twenty minutes later, after urging Thomas to attend his

Alcoholics Anonymous meeting that evening, she proceeds

 to call her mother, while simultaneously delving into two

boxes of folders and files that have sat next to her desk for

the past three months. In order to answer one of the e-mails,

she needs to find that Jacobsen file. Her mother is not happy

with Michiko’s cancellation. “Mom, I’m sorry,” Michiko

says, “but this patient is in extreme need of counseling. She’s

both anorexic and bulimic. She’s in a very fragile state right

now. At least I saw you last weekend, and I’ll be coming by

later this week. Plus, for me to come to Kew Gardens is

inconvenient.” It would help if Mom would come into

Manhattan once in a while, Michiko thinks to herself.

Lines begin to form on Michiko’s smooth face, as she furrows

her brow, listening to her mother’s strident voice:

“Michiko, I don’t understand why you work so hard. You

should find a job that pays better so you save more money.

You can barely pay the mortgage each month. And how on

earth are you going to find a husband when you never leave

the office? When I was your age….”

“Mom,” Michiko hastily interjects, “I don’t work that late, I

go out at night, my money is my business, and I am fine,

financially and otherwise. Things are different than they

were in your time. Why don’t you go out with Dad to the

tennis club? You always feel better after hitting some balls.”

And when you can focus on something other than your

only child’s finances and marriage prospects, Michiko

wearily thinks as she feels her blood pressure rising.

Her mother’s response is a dial tone. Great, Michiko mutters.

She’s back to hanging up on people. I think she needs

 some counseling herself. A knock at her door interrupts her

frustrated thoughts. “Michiko,” says an agitated voice. “Can

I see you for a moment?” It’s her boss, Kathy. “Sure, Kath.

What’s up?” Michiko replies.

“One of your former patients, Sheila Foster, committed an

assault and battery,” Kathy relays. “Her lawyer is requesting

that you testify that she was emotionally distraught at the

time, because her husband left her.”



“Who did she attack?” Michiko asks warily, running her fingers

through her sleek bob.


“Oh, the woman her husband left her for,” Kathy says.

“Sheila hit her leg with her briefcase. The woman is pressing

charges and doesn’t seem intent on backing down.”


“But patient confidentiality—” Michiko begins to say.


“I know,” Kathy says, “but they are not looking for

specifics—just a general statement. You could give it at the

deposition so you won’t have to go to the courthouse. It

could protect Sheila from doing any jail time.”

“The charges are that serious?”

“Evidently, yes.” Kathy says, “Rumor has it that the

woman has some connections with the prosecutor. But

who knows. Just think about it. I need an answer by

tomorrow morning. I’ve got to run.”

 “OK,” Michiko says, sighing. “I’ll think about it.” But that

too will have to wait, because just then the receptionist calls

to let Michiko know that Tasha has arrived. Michiko makes

her way to the waiting room and greets Tasha, smiling

warmly. “I’m glad you could make it today, Tasha. Come

right in.”

It’s this sincere compassion, composure under duress, and

commitment that makes Michiko and all the other social

workers worthwhile persons in more ways than a million!