October 24, 2017--Audiological Take: Previous Life (Part 2 of 4)

When in a rush John Allan and I arrived at Gary Schwartzberg's office, his assistant, Angie, said he was finishing with a patient and would be with us shortly. Even she, who is always calm and centered, seemed upset. I was tempted to ask her what was going on but didn't want to pass along any of my own anxiety or breach any confidences.

We settled in the waiting room and without the ability to concentrate on them thumbed through some Starkey hearing aids pamphlets. In a few minutes we heard Gary in the hallway, escorting one of his clients to Angie's desk. "Please make an appointment for Mrs. Lindley in about four weeks. For her next adjustment."

I was relieved to see that Gary seemed like his familiar self. No signs of distress. "I'll be right back," he said to John and me, "I want to walk Mrs. Lindley to her car." Gently, he took her and together slowly they approached the door to the parking area.

I whispered to John, "Maybe he's more OK than we are imagining. I mean, he seemed perfectly normal. I know him pretty well by now and he didn't seem any different to me. This may be wishful thinking, but let's see what he has to say."

John said, "I agree. Let's hold back and let him do the talking. We shouldn't express any unusual concern, other than through the fact that we're here! And that he said he'd appreciate it if we could come right away to see him. That in itself is evidence that something out of the ordinary is on his mind or happening. So let's try to act casual and as if we were nearby and just popped in."

"I'm trying not to sound worried but don't forget he asked us to come to see him on short notice, knowing we don't live around the corner."

"All true. But let's try to play it cool."

I sank back in my chair and listened to the Bach cello suites barely audible on his office sound system. "This is the same music he programmed my hearing aids to pick up during nights when I couldn't fall asleep. Not that he admitted that he did that, but how else might that have happened?"

"Chalk it up to more strangeness," John said. We both strained to listen to the music.

After another five minutes, I said, "Doesn't it seem that he's been out there with Mrs. Lindley for a long time?"

"I agree," John said, "I'll ask Angie." Which he did. 

"She said she'd check on him. It's not unusual, she said, for him to linger with patients. He's very devoted to them as we well know. But she also said that she'd see what's happening."

Angie by then was at the door and looking intently out to the parking area. "I don't see him," she said, turning to us, "What's strange, very strange, is that Gary's car is not there." 

"He's gone?" John said, all our anxieties reignited.

"His car's not there," Angie said, no longer calm. "He's never done this before. I mean, leave without letting me know what's going on. I don't know what to think." She now, understandably, was more upset than either John or I.

"Did he get a call from his wife or mother? That there was some sort of trouble?"

"If he did, he would have told me. Everything seemed normal. Of course, with the exception of the two of you being here and his asking me to reschedule his afternoon appointments."

"It's not our business," I said, "And I don't want to get involved in anything private. We've become close but we know each other for only a year. But, having said that, he wanted to see us about something that's apparently on his mind." 

John and I smiled, trying to look and sound matter of fact.

"Now that I think about this," Angie said, "For the past few days he hasn't been quite himself. There appeared to be something coming up this weekend, tomorrow, that was weighing on his mind. Some sort of workshop about audiology. Not that that's unusual. They happen all the time and he hardly ever goes. But, as I said, this one seemed to be concerning him. I can't imagine why. He almost never goes, thinking they're a waste of time. So I didn't give it that much attention. We've been very busy."

"But for him just to leave?"

"To tell you the truth, that's what has me worried. It's totally uncharacteristic of him. I don't . . ."

"Do you remember anything about the workshop?" John asked.

I could see Angie struggling to remember. "Nothing that comes to mind. Except maybe one thing."

"What's that?"

"I think it's someplace in Connecticut."

"Maybe Hartford?"

"Not Hartford. They tend to schedule them in resort kinds of places so spouses can come and there's something more to do than just sit in a hotel conference room for two days hearing about the latest advances in audiology."

"I don't know Connecticut that well," I said. "Are there resorts there?"

"Uncasville," John said. They have gambling there. My mother loved it. Mohegan Sun is what it's called. The hotel and casino."

Angie brightened, "That's it! That's where it's being held. But Gary hates gambling. It's not his thing. nor is it his wife's, if she's going with him."

"In the meantime, he's gone," I said, bringing us back to that reality. "On the other hand, I can't connect any of the dots." I looked at John, not wanting to say or reveal  anything inappropriate--his strange and upsetting email to John, his wanting to see us urgently, all the things he hinted to me about his so-called previous life. And now his disappearance.

"I don't know what to say," I confessed to Angie, "Are you OK to be here on your own? I mean, we could stay if . . ."

"I'm all right," Angie said, I'm a Mainer and that means I can handle anything. I have your phone numbers and will call if I hear from him. I guess I should also let his wife know what's happening, though maybe she knows all about it. She also can handle anything. But I don't want to inadvertently create a problem."

We encouraged her to call and, with some reluctance, John and I left, promising to stay in touch to see what she might hear and also, in case he communicated with either of us, to let her know what we might learn.

To be continued . . .