Bedside Manner

from Mrs. Klein

by Nicholas Wright

You want the truth? Good, fine. You reassure your patients. When they cry you hug them. And you say their clouds have silver linings and you give them tips on life. What can they learn from that about themselves? All they can learn is that you're nice to them which, as a matter of fact, you aren't; you're bloody destructive.

Take that patient. All his life, like everyone else, like you, like me, like all the world, he has projected his infant experiences on to the people around him. But it's only now, with me, he starts to see them. Now; in that powerful, terrifying thing we call the transference. Because, unlike his wife or child or you, I am detached. So the screen, as it were, is blank. And he projects and sees, on me, those images from his cradle. You obscured that screen with your emotions. You felt pity. And you felt protective.

Rubbish... Dreck, dreck, dreck! If you want to be an analyst of any worth you have to trust your patients with the truth. However harsh. They're strong. They'll take it.