Miserably she flipped through her psychology book one afternoon as she sat alone in the lobby of the clinic. It was her day off, but she refused to take time off to go home till she had mastered her lesson.
Gerald Benson found her huddled over her book and sat down beside her.
“Still grinding away?” he asked.
She nodded. “I can’t understand why I can’t get this through my head,” she said desperately.
Gerald picked up her book. “Maybe I can help you,” he offered.
“Oh, go away,” she groaned with pretended despair. “Suddenly everything’s changed. Eileen ... my good friend, Eileen ... has become a witch who haunts me at night. She’s going to be on the examining board. And so are all the doctors! I get all nervous when I think that Ted or Dr. Daley or especially wonderful Dr. Barsch can up and flunk me without a second thought if I don’t pass my exam.”
Gerald laughed. “Then I’m your friend of the hour. I won’t be on the board. I’m just an intern. Now, let’s see. What’s troubling you so?” He turned to the front of the book. Then he closed it. “Let’s start at the beginning. In the first place, did you ever run a switchboard?”
Jean nodded. “One summer I worked as a receptionist in an office.”
“Then there’s nothing to it. You’re just trying to master the switchboard of the human body. Keep that in mind. Sensory nerves to the brain or spinal column, depending upon whether the reflex called for is automatic or deliberate. If it is an automatic response, such as pulling your hand away when you touch a hot stove, the message goes no higher than the spinal column. Otherwise, it goes to the brain. Your brain tells you to turn up the thermostat because you’re cold in your house. You had to learn that heating a house will warm you. But a tiny baby will pull his hand away from a hot stove.”