then came josefina. a teacher in her native argentina was settled with a vast array of insoluble things compounded by anxiety, depression and irritable bowel syndrome plus a demanding mother to care for. the type of patient with a genuine list of complaints. i offered observations about new york city's pretensions of culture which never measure up to the sophistication of what a series but if i let her talk uninterrupted, it would unveil like a labyrinth. i hear symptoms from every organ, a rundown of her mother's medical bills, critique of metropolitan opera. i wouldn't be able to provide an easy solution for her symptoms and force them to explain the decision of her mother's doctors and the director of the net. who defecates on a routine basis. and by the end the whole thing would turn out to be a sprawling, onerous mess. and would excoriate on gold grounds. i promised myself to let every patient talk. i eliminated the difficult patients, my dated however informal would be flawed. i went to battle and