As some of you may know, I respond to calls from claimants in our class action cases. What makes answering these calls difficult is not only the complexity of the subject matter, but “reading” the caller, figuring out what they need and how to explain it to them in terms they can understand. These people come from all walks of life. Some are highly educated. Some are obviously not. Some are scared. Some are angry. Some speak English. Many don’t. (I really wish I took Spanish in high school. Ancient Greek does me very little good.) All are confused in one way or another.

Today I spoke to an elderly gentleman from the Deep South. I had a difficult time understanding him on account of his thick accent and his slurring of words. Moreover, he had a hard time hearing. He ordered his wife to get on the other line and take notes. Ordering her to do so took a really long time since he kept repeating the same instructions over and over again. She continued to reassure him that she was there and ready to do as he asked. He asked me what my name was and I told him. I even spelled it for him. I did the same with the name of the firm I worked for.

I was ready to move on. Apparently he wasn’t. He asked me what my name was and where I worked. I told him again. He asked me how to spell my name. He asked me how to spell the name of the firm. I did so patiently.

I tried to explain to him what my firm’s role was in the litigation. He kept confusing us with the opposing counsel. I tried to explain to him that I was not an attorney. He didn’t understand this either. I told him I was a secretary (not strictly true, but many people are not acquainted with what a paralegal is). He then asked me if I was his attorney. I’m ethically bound not to represent myself as an attorney. I tried to explain the difference again, but it just wouldn’t sink in. I’m an assistant, not an attorney. I’ve never been to law school. Yes, I’ve taken practical legal courses. I know quite a bit, but I’m not licensed to practice law. I’m not qualified to give legal advice.

He asked me what my name was.

He asked me where I was located. I told him. Seattle! That’s on the west coast. Yes, sir. It is. What time is it there? I told him. Well, it’s a lot later in the day here. Yes, sir, I’m aware of that. How can I help you? You can’t! You’re on the west coast! But surely I can answer your question…What’s your name?

I don’t want to sound like I’m ridiculing elderly people. I have a great deal of respect for elderly people. Age was just a very important factor in this whole exchange…which never got anywhere and couldn’t have resolved any real issues he had. As frustrating as it was, I enjoyed the “conversation.” I felt like I was in touch with some very complex character from an Anne Tyler novel. He actually called me “darlin’.”

I had a horrible scare today. I was working really hard on summarizing a long and dry deposition (paint chemistry just doesn’t turn my crank) when I started noticing little blind spots in my vision. When looking at a letter “A” for instance, a good 1/3 of it would be gone, as if the copier hadn’t worked properly. But when I looked around my office space, everything appeared normal. I went back to reading the depo thinking that I must be getting tired and it was no big deal. Within the space of a few minutes, things grew drastically worse. I could hardly focus on anything. The whole world seemed to swim around sickeningly. I panicked. I thought I was going blind.

During the height of my panick attack, I spoke to one of the attorneys in our office who had been pregnant before and she assured me that blurring of the vision was quite normal as long as it didn’t last a really long time. I felt much better after talking to her and sure enough, within 20 minutes, I could see again.

Experiences like this remind me that I really should do more reading about symptoms than I have been doing so I won’t panick when something else occurs. Unfortunately, I’ve had a hard time relating to what’s described in books like “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” There must be a better reference out there.

Last night I went to the first party I’ve been to in years. It seems incredible to me that it’s been so long since I hung out with a group of people my own age where we did little more than talk and drink and have a great time. That’s one thing I really miss from my college days. It’s hard to arrange get-togethers when everybody lives so far apart and has pressing responsbilities like work and children. Spontaneous gatherings are even more rare.

The party was held for my friends, Dave and Liz, who are getting married this evening. I’m really happy for them. They seem like such a great match–with compatible senses of humor (very important!) and a shared set of values (equally important!). I know the ceremony will be touching and the reception afterwards a lot of fun. Liz, being a professional chef, is sure to have arranged an exquisite meal. I’m practically drooling in anticipation.