My Homicidal Villain

Yesterday's post about crazy patients who could possibly murder me made me nostalgic over the first tales of My Homicidal Villain. Sure there have been other crazies and even bomb threats (did I tell you guys about the bomb threat? I can't remember?) since her, but she was my first. The first patient to strike fear into my heart and really make me reconsider my career choices.

If you've had the pleasure of following me for the last year (in which case I find you slightly crazy for sticking around after this story), you probably remember her well. She's hard to forget, at least for me anyways. If you haven't been reading my blog since the beginning of time (or last year, whatever way you want to look at it), you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. Well, let me tell you! This is a terrifying tale of love, betrayal, fear, attempted murder, and a poor receptionist learning never to leave her coffee cup unattended! Yes, my life is basically a sexy crime novel. If you don't believe me take a look for yourself!

The Tale of the Homicidal Villain:

Part One: The Victim

Part Two: The Homicidal Villain

Part Three: The Coward

Okay, so maybe not as sexy as sad, but it's still full of mystery and intrigue! Right?

Well, I haven't written anything about them since I hid under my desk like a coward. I don't know if this is from shear embarrassment or my unwilling acceptance of the truth that I'll never be done with them.

In case you were wondering the lovely couple did end up reconciled. That's right. He went back to her after she tried to murder him. Last I heard he moved back in and locked up his meds, so she couldn't get at them to commit premeditated murder by slowly poisoning him.

They still come into the clinic more than any reasonable person should be allowed. It's creepy. I still see them here at least once a week. They either wave at me from across the clinic, and by that I mean they yell and wave across an entire building until they get my attention and I wave back, or, if there're not in a hurry, which is about 50% of the time, they stop by for a hug. I've learned to just grit my teeth and get it over with. It's the fastest way to make them leave.

 So, yeah, this is still my hell. I've just learned to accept it. It's almost like Stockholm Syndrome...as in I'll probably start liking it soon. Wait...I'm already using words like nostalgia to describe the start of this awkward and horrifying situation!!!! Nostalgia is associated with happy memories! What is wrong with me!??! This is not happy! This is HORRIBLE!! I'm going to throw up now. And remember what I am to them. Their puppet. An unwilling participant in their torture hugs!