I won't remember you

"Hi, John! "How's it going?" The person says. I'm at Walmart. My mind races to find the gray matter where in my mind that brings forth a memory of this person. Nothing!

"Hi," I say, "How are you doing?"

"Great!" The person says."  Then she starts talking to me as though I know who she is and what she's talking about.

I am so guilty of this. My favorite part of my job is having conversations with patients. I've discussed many of these discussions on this blog. I am so willing to talk about God and politics even. I mean, you do so appropriately. But I have had such deep conversations with people.

So, this person is probably one of them. But there's so many of them. There's no way I can remember them all.

My wife remembers all her patients. She knows them all when she sees them. If she wanted to, if it weren't for HIPPA, she could entertain me with stories about people she meets. But not me. I don't remember.

That's just me. I just don't remember.

And it doesn't matter if you are readmitted to the hospital or if I meet you at Walmart. And it's even harder at Walmart because you won't have a robe on. There's a chance I might have a flashback if you have a robe on.