Your comment about the assumption of sexual interest in any patient contact just brought back a memory long forgotten. One afternoon in the dayroom, my friend ‘Tamara’ came out of her 15-minute meeting with her psychiatrist, looking very confused and disturbed. I asked her what was bothering her, and–I kid you not–she said that Humpty Dumpty, the egg-shaped doctor, inquired how often she masturbated. To this day, I fail to see how that has anything to do with her healing/recovery. In this particular case, the doctor is the one with (as you so perfectly put it) “messy stuffy” inside of themselves–not my dear ‘Tamara’. What a sick bastard that man was.