Meet Jasper. Each person has a story. Each person has a unique character or personality traits. Jasper was a character to behold. His initial call was unforgettable. His distinctive loud voice boomed through the phone. “Hello doc, are you there?” Before I could reply, he spent minutes explaining why he had called. Pressing the phone to my ear only invited damage. I confess that only parts of a boisterous rant did I take in. Once I jumped in to interrupt, Jasper took to a lengthy apology about his boom box tendency. That alone went on for an interminable period. Another interruption (sorry!) led to a moment of silence. He listened to my invitation for a session. We agreed upon a date in a couple of days. I wondered what a full 60-minute session might sound like.

We met a couple of days later. I was greeted by a short, slender man with a big, toothy grin. He shook my hand like a long-lost relative. “How are you doing, doc?” he bellowed. He say down, grabbed the bottle of water I offered him and took a large swallow followed by a burp. “Sorry, doc.” Before I managed an introductory remark, Jasper, as if reading a script, jumped in ahead of me. “Hey doc, you’re probably wondering why I’m here.” I said yes.

My yes reply, a succinct one, opened the floodgates. Whle intent to listen to Jasper’s story, I considered not only what he shared, but also the manner which offered a passing thought. How impresssive that a man spoke for 25 minutes, nonstop, at a high-volume, feverish pitch. The challenge was upon me. I only learned one thing about this man. He spoke loudly and rapidly. I wondered if this characteristic was chronic or merely meant for this session. The floodgates of information ranged from his job to his family and hobbies. He allowed for a break for me to clarify what was shared in the 20-minute start.

The pace of the balance of the session slowed a tad. I learned a little about his mental and emotional state. Nevertheless, I learned that Jasper is married to Jill, they are both in their early 40s and they have two school-aged children and a ranch-style home in a middle-class neighborhood. He likes to keep his lawn mowed and his snow shoveled. He works third shift as a machinist. He likes his job and his colleagues. He likes sports, especially football. He occasionally wins the football pool at work. HIs parents are alive and live within a mile of his home. He’s the oldest of four. His siblings reside in town with their respective families. They get together on special holidays.

The office walls were vibrating as the session came to a close. I had many questions that would have to wait. Not wanting to interrupt and be impolite, I called upon a skill often utilized by school teachers in a loud classroom. I spoke softly, barely audibly. Admittedly, it didn’t get Jasper’s attention for several minutes. Finally, he stopped abruptly as if awakening to a consciousness separate from his one hour of intensity. I thanked him for the session. I offered him another session for the following week. “Do I have any homework, doc?” I said no, not this early. Perhaps I’ll consider that suggestion at another date.

Being used to more sedate clients who offer their stories in a more controlled volume, one session provided only minimal insight into the inner workings of Jasper. To pre-judge him based solely on his feverish pitch would be a mistake. Without an initial session customarily replete with a family even exchange of information, and energy expended, I withheld a preliminary diagnosis. I sense a challenge that I may not have been accustomed to in my practice. I looked forward to the next session. I had some planning to conduct during the week. More to be continued for the next article.

Let there be peace, and let it begin with me.