Have you ever stopped doing something you really loved, even if for a very good reason, and almost forgotten how much you loved it?
In a previous post I had told you that I am an OT, and that I have my own private practice. Earlier this Spring, I made the conscious decision to pull back from seeing private patients, and was actually preparing to “close the doors”, so to speak, on the business in order to spend more time with my own two teens before they grow up and move out. I went so far as to get a part-time position in a local private pediatric clinic (but it wasn’t at this place) working two days a week to keep my skills up and bring in some spending money. My very first day, they sent one employee over from their clinic 45 minutes away to open the doors for me, show me the computer system for 30 min, and then she left. I was in the clinic treating patients and taking payments all alone for 4 hours. Did I mention this was my first day on the job? This should have been the red flag to run screaming. But I stuck it out for an entire month before finally resigning.
Here’s the kicker: when I got hired I signed a contract with a no-compete clause. This meant that I could not see any pediatric patients for ANYONE (including myself) for a period of 6 months. And while I’ve signed these contracts in the past, most employers will look the other way as long as you aren’t stealing their business. Most people understand that going without an income for anywhere from 6 to 18 months is unreasonable. But rumor among local therapists is that this agency is more than happy to take you to court for any perceived breach of the contract. So, not willing to risk a court battle even if I was sure I could win, I have not seen one patient in 5 months. And I knew I missed it. But I didn’t realize just how much until this afternoon.
Today I got to spend some time with a little boy who has sensory processing issues. And while I couldn’t do any therapy with him today (since I am still under the no-compete clause for another month), I did get to play with him, and could definitely recognize the signs of sensory processing disorder. And I know what to do to help him overcome much of it. But I can’t help him right now. And I miss it. I really, really, really miss it.