#8 B.M., Esq.

OK, this is a really funny story...Now.  At the time I did not think it was funny at all.
My #8 is an attorney.  I hope he doesn't remember me.  From time to time I see him around town and he gives me a smile and a "hello" but I REALLY hope he doesn't remember me.

He has the privledge and distinction of being the first attorney to depose me.  You know...deposition, aka conversations from H-E- double hockey sticks!  I'm sure many of you don't share my fear of depositions, but I Really, Really, Really hate them!

The very first time I had to give one, I went to #8's office.  I was shaking on my way there and by the time I got to his waiting room, I probably looked like I was having a seizure.  Knees shaking, teeth chattering...  Receptionist asks me if I am cold..."Umm, yes, a little,"  I answer.

I don't even remember who the patient was that I was answering questions about.  All I remember is that #8 spoke to me as if I was either

1. a very small child about to cry
or
2. a psychotic person about to jump.

Sigh...I know I had tears in my eyes the whole time.  Why???  I have no idea.  I wasn't on trial.  I think basically they just wanted me to say...on the record...that the guy had actually attended physical therapy 10 times and that he said that his back hurt.  The way that I prepared for this deposition you would have thought that I was O.J. about to be cross-examined by Johnnie Cochran.

I memorized all of my treatments that I had done on the patient!
I researched in my old school notes the reasons that I had chosen those particular treatments!
I wore a dress, stockings, and high heels to the deposition!

Sigh!    I do remember that he asked me if I minded if he recorded it.
:( 
He probably replays it and laughs from time to time. 

I really hope he doesn't remember me!

key words:  deposition, fear, panic, dramatic (thanks, Mom)