I am thinking about talking to Wee One about her body, how I’m going to talk to her without making a face. As I was thinking about it, a memory from work popped up.
Part of the intake process with new clients included a health form required by the state. Since I’m a social worker, not a doctor, I simply asked for yes or no answers to a rundown of possible bodily ailments and made referrals to a health clinic as necessary.
One time, I had a Vietnamese client who was also mentally ill, so sometimes it was hard to understand him, trying to sift through his accent, his English-is-my-second-language word choice, or his delusion.
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