I've been thinking a bit about how strange the medical profession is these days. When I went in and saw that nurse practitioner last Friday I spilled my soul to her. It was messy. The floor probably needed mopping when I left. And she asked me some pretty darn personal questions which were necessary and when she gave me the sample pack of antidepressants to take she had to warn me that if I started having suicidal OR homicidal thoughts, I should definitely call. And I nodded and agreed and took my pills home with me and that was that.
Wouldn't you think that in a perfect world, someone would have called me by now to ask how it was going? Just a simple follow-up? I mean, my anguish was fairly profound and they did give me medication which is supposed to rewire my brain and which, I suppose, could cause me to have homicidal thoughts.
But no. Just call in if I think I might kill myself or someone else and oh, yes, come back in two weeks.
Also, I am thinking, in a perfect world I could have hugged that woman for listening and offering help, but even in my present state of perpetual hugging need, I could not bring myself to put my arms around her, that nurse practitioner in the white coat with the frizzy red hair and the serious expression.
Yes, it does seem strange to just pat you on the back and send you on your way. Though I don't necessarily want to go back in time, it would be nice if we did still have like town doctors and nurses; a person we grew up knowing or who illustrates some kind of concern when we're having a meltdown.
ReplyDeleteI THOUGHT THE SAME THING WHEN I WAS GOING THROUGH PPD!
ReplyDeleteI don't think doctors and nurses allow themselves to care that much about individual patients. You go in, you get your little 12 or 20 minute visit, you get your medicine, paperwork is completed, you pay your co-pay (if you didn't already pay it on the way in) you leave, the next patient goes in. Whether the medical pro. sees 3 an hour or 5 an hour, there's not enough hours in a day to check up on people outside of their appointment time.
ReplyDeleteSo, how are you doing? I didn't know you could get raisin toast at a Waffle House!! I thought everything they served had eggs, bacon, and/or sausage in it!
I'll bet my visit didn't last ten minutes. And I'm not faulting HER. I'm just saying- it's so weird. It seems so anti-human. How have we come this far from the days of healers?
ReplyDeleteAnd MOB- they have a full-on menu at the Waffle House. You can get all sorts of tasty foods.
I wonder how you take these serious events and make me laugh? Is that in the pills? I want some!
ReplyDeleteYou know, I think it's because we can see how ludicrous it all is that we end up needing the damn pills!
ReplyDeleteNo, Brother, it is just my last gasp at maintaining my own self. I don't think the pills have much humor in them.
ReplyDeleteWouldn't that be cool, though?
And Lopo- you're probably right. Our poor little old ape brains can't deal with some of this stuff.
And Aunt Becky- yeah- and you had a baby to take care of, too.
We are doing a lot of things wrong.
a big *hug* for you!
ReplyDeletesmooches
Which is why it's called the practice. That implies they haven't got it right yet. They are practicing. I am also hugging more these days. Yesterday I even kissed a complete stranger that was giving us her beat up hoosier cabinet free. I think I even surprised myself.
ReplyDeleteI went to a doctor for a check up when I turned 30 and she asked if I ever felt depressed. I told her I worked with homeless children so yeah, sometimes. She offered me a wicker basket full of Paxil samples.
ReplyDeleteOh Sally- the thought of you kissing a stranger makes me happy!
ReplyDeleteA. Bliss- thank-you, honey.
Juancho- easy fix for HER.
I just found your blog and I love love love it. I really do.
ReplyDeleteI want to know about your comment on Black Hockey Jesus's blog. Why were you on the edge of death at 16?
Also, I had a psychiatrist a long time ago when I was fifteen who I saw once for an hour. I told him that I used drugs and drank regularly. He gave me Paxil.
ReplyDeleteI sorta think he should've addressed the drinking/addiction thing before giving me the meds? Isn't alcohol a depressent?
Hello AC. Nice of you to drop by. I had mono at the age of sixteen which I completely tried to ignore until it reached the point where my liver was affected and that landed me in the hospital. I was there for three weeks. Not a good time. I missed two months of school, or was it three? I don't remember but it sure did mess up my GPA.
ReplyDeleteI think you should have killed her.
ReplyDeleteHaving just caught up on your slog through the pharmacopia of anti-anxiety heaven in your past submissions, my advice is to flush first. The root cause to your depression and anxiety could be nothing more than a rational persons reaction to life as we know it. You need some Blues, some Gin and something that hurts. Pills just cover up real problems and introduce new and unpredictable side effects. In our lives, we hold an inner balance of the good stuff and the bad. As we age, this balance becomes more pronounced as we don't want to check out with a deficit. Do something you have always wanted to do. Do something you never believed you would do. Do something you can;t believe you are doing while you are doing it. Tip the scales back in your favor and flip the nurse "actitioner" off and her bag of tricks.
ReplyDeleteOh dear, Balboa- would that I could take that advice. Right now I'm having a hard time getting my ass out to the clothesline, much less doing something I've always wanted to do. But I'll try.
ReplyDeleteWhen the pills kick in.
I think there are so many people now, and in order for doctors to survive with the insurance companies pressuring them, we get run in and out like cattle. It, sadly, is just the state of things.
ReplyDeleteHope you're feeling better!
Oh Mike- I very much do understand the reality. It's just a harsh reality.
ReplyDelete