I was sick recently. I don’t get sick often and it’s a good thing because I am lousy at it. I swear that Mancold is a debilitating illness but my wife rolls her eyes at me. Her lack of credulity notwithstanding, I am sure science supports my belief.

This time I had something more serious. I didn’t go to the office for five days, or the equivalent of my cumulative sick total for the last fifteen years. I really am lousy at being sick. Turns out that I am really good at working from home and whining about it though.

Whatever bug I caught was severe enough that I went to the doctor, something I usually only do for yearly checkups. My doc got me in right away, and I told her my symptoms- sore throat and mouth and lethargy.

She asked more about the lethargy. When a guy who takes regular naps says he is lethargic, I guess medical professionals need more detail. I don’t feel ashamed about being a napper. Aristotle, Thomas Edison and I are in the same club. Probably the only club I can be in with those guys, but we don’t talk about it during nap time. My office couch is a legendary snore factory. It will be inducted into the Nap Hall of Fame on the first ballot.

“Sleep if you need to. Listen to your body,” she said.

She gave the advice without a second thought, but it was the worst advice ever. My body has not been the best counselor. It has told me I could dance, that I could win a fight, and talked me into numerous near death experiences. Still, she is the doctor so I figured she knew what she was doing. To her credit, I survived the malady. My wife was glad to get my whiny body out of the house, although I am pretty sure my dogs miss me.

I give advice to clients on a daily basis. Abraham Lincoln is credited with saying that “A lawyer’s time and advice are his stock in trade.” Sounds like something a napper would say, or at least a lawyer’s billing clerk.

I’ve been thinking about advice I have given over the years. I told my client before my first trial to dress like she was going to church. I should have been more specific. Either she didn’t go to church or crop tops that showed off her tattoos were the norm there. My hometown in Oklahoma was much more conservative. So was our jury.

My clients pay for my advice whether they use it or not. Most often, this comes up when they are deciding to accept or reject a settlement offer. The few who reject my advice not to settle and take the money offered have been pleased with the outcome 100 percent of the time. At least one client who followed my advice not to settle was not happy when the jury voted against him.

In law school, there was a client counseling competition and I always did well. Unfortunately, it didn’t really prepare me for counseling actual clients. Like most of law school, it was a fifteen minute head start on practice at best. Actual clients don’t limit their requests to the case I am working on, and some seem baffled that I don’t know the steps needed to open a recording studio or win a custody battle.

The longer I practice, the more comfortable I am with telling clients that I don’t know the answer to a question. As a young lawyer, it was very uncomfortable to let a client know that their question was outside of my expertise. Because I had very little expertise or experience back then, there was a lot of discomfort in my early years. Luckily, I was surrounded by experienced mentors who could help.

It is humbling to feel under the weather. Trial lawyers take on bigger adversaries and speak in front of a jury of strangers. With that kind of confidence, battling an invisible germ seems easy to us. Most would agree that losing in court is preferable to a sick day.

Lawyers are pretty good at ignoring our body’s complaints. I have gotten better at listening when my back or shoulder tells me to take it easy. When it comes to listening to my body’s call for more sleep, I usually want a second opinion. On the other hand, if a nap a day will keep the doctor away, I am in.

©2024 With All Due Respect. Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St Louis, Missouri. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent c/o this publication or directly to him via email at farris@farrislaw.net. If he doesn’t respond right away, he is probably sleeping.