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“The Adventures Of Harold, Benjy, And Carmen” Sounds Awesome

, , , , , , | Healthy | August 13, 2018

(I’m in a short-term rehab center, recovering from surgery. A speech therapist comes in with a form in her hands.)

Therapist: “Good morning! I’ll just take a couple of minutes here to see how your speech and language skills are, all right?”

Me: “I suppose.”

(I teach special needs, and immediately recognize the form; it’s the mental acuity screener. BAH!)

Therapist: “Can you tell me where you are?”

(This goes on for awhile, and I’m getting irritated.)

Therapist: “Now, would you name these three animals?”

(She shows me sketch of a lion, an elephant, and a hippo.)

Me: “How about Harold, Benjy, and Carmen?”

Therapist: *silent*

Me: “Well, the task as phrased was to name the animals. If it were stated correctly, you would have asked me to identify the animals, and I would have told you they were a lion, elephant, and hippo.”

Therapist: *silent, but grinning*

Me: “And the number they told me to remember when I had this identical screening in the hospital was 74.”

Would Be Crazy For A Therapist To Say That

, , , , | Right | January 16, 2018

(I’m a patient, wrapping up a session with my therapist. The appointment cards have crisis numbers on the back in case you need help between appointments.)

Therapist: “Here’s your appointment card, and as usual, our crisis stuff is on the back.”

Me: “…”

Therapist: “Er… Well, even if you don’t need it, it’s good to have in your workplace just in case someone needs help in a crisis.”

Me: “Oh, ‘CRISIS’! I thought you said ‘crazy stuff’!”

Therapist: “Oh, my God, no!”

Me: “Yeah, I was like, ‘Well, that’s a little insensitive.'”

Therapist: “Oh, my goodness, nooooo.”

The Only Wrong Thing Here Is The Therapy

, , , , , , | Friendly | December 12, 2017

(I am in bad shape after a rough breakup that involved several of my friends “choosing sides” in favor of my ex. This happens not long after my parents’ divorce, and I am also a senior in college with a thieving roommate. I am struggling daily with extreme stress and depression, and on a particularly bad day, I swallow a bunch of pills. A friend takes me to the hospital, where I am informed that my action has triggered some legal thing in which they must send me to a psychiatric unit, that I have no say in the matter, and that my friend must leave. I am horrified, ashamed, and alone. Hours later, after being locked in a dark hospital room, an “intake counselor” comes in and starts asking me questions before I’m taken to the psych unit. I answer him honestly and list all of the factors in the thunderstorm that was my life, including my parents’ divorce, a dear friend moving away, and my fiancé dumping me, and at the end of it all, I say:)

Me: “I just feel so abandoned, like people keep leaving me.”

Counselor: *puts down his pad, looks me straight in the eye* “Well, clearly, there’s something wrong with you.”

Me: “What?”

Counselor: “There’s something wrong with you, or people wouldn’t leave you. Something about you makes them leave.”

Me: *shocked and in tears* “There’s nothing wrong with me; I’m just having a hard time—”

Counselor: *cutting me off* “No. There’s something wrong with you. We’re going to take you to a place where they fix you. Then, this won’t happen anymore. We’re done. They’ll come for you soon.”

(He abruptly left, and I burst into tears, suddenly terrified by whatever this place was they were taking me to and what could be in store for me. The scary place turned out to be a rehab facility, not an electro-shock chamber with “A Clockwork Orange” eye clamps like I imagined, and I was actually able to get some help in dealing with my losses and grief. My friend who took me to the hospital continues to be amazing and helps me sort out things in my life so that I can get healthy. I have never gone back to that dark place, metaphorically or literally. Thankfully, when I told my parents about what the intake counselor said, they furiously called up the clinic. The clinic representative admitted it wasn’t the first time they had received complaints about how he talked to patients. A year later, I heard through my therapist with whom the clinic had placed me that the intake counselor had been let go. I was glad to hear, because his words haunted me, and still do to an extent.)

Will Need A Therapist After This Service

, | Working | February 19, 2016

(I’ve been suffering a serious lack of motivation, excitement, and other generally positive emotions recently, so I decide to see if I could get prescribed some anti-depressants, or something of the sort to help me start functioning. Being a person with relatively bad anxiety, I decide to try to contact my old psychiatrist that I had when I was being given ADHD medicine. After a bit of contact, I learn that since it’s been over a year since I last saw him, I qualify as a new patient, and am told he’s not taking new clients. However, the lady on the phone offered to send him an email, seeing if he might be willing to make an exception. Understanding that it was no guarantee, and that it was even unlikely, I accepted. About a day later, I receive a call from the psychiatrist’s office, this time from a different, older sounding woman.)

Secretary #2: “I’m calling [My Name] about a request to see [Psychiatrist]? I’m sorry, but I’m afraid he’s not taking new clients at this time. Would you like to schedule to see another of our doctors?”

(I’m a bit upset, but I understood from the beginning my chances of getting back in were low. I politely decline for the time being, intending to look more into the other doctors before picking one. About two days later, I get another call. This time, it’s from the secretary I originally spoke to, who offered to send the email.)

Secretary #1: “Hi. [My Name], I’m calling back about your appointment request for [Psychiatrist]. He hasn’t gotten back to reply yet, as he only comes in a couple days a week. Would you like to keep waiting, or go ahead and try another doctor?”

Me: *confused* “I thought he wasn’t taking new patients? I got a call telling me he wasn’t going to see me…”

Secretary #1: “Yes, disregard that. Sorry for the confusion. She didn’t see the note I left her. Your reply is still pending. Would you like to keep waiting?”

(I eagerly agree, glad that I hadn’t already scheduled an appointment. Again, about another day later, I get a call, again from the older woman from the first callback.)

Secretary #2: “Yes, I’m calling again to tell [My Name] that [Psychiatrist] is not taking any new patients.”

(Since the wording is so similar to the first time, I explain that I had an email sent and was waiting for a reply.)

Secretary #2: “Yes, I saw that. Unfortunately, he’s already incredibly booked and we’re lucky we have him the few days we do. He is not taking any new patients; this is an order from his boss. Would you like to schedule with another doctor?”

(Thinking this as final, I decline again since I’m nearing tears of disappointment. We hang up, and I start looking up other psychiatrists. However, again, a day later…)

Secretary #1: “Yes, I’m calling back about [Psychiatrist]. He has agreed to see you, so long as you agree to first make an appointment with one of our psychologists to get diagnosed.”

(I’m shocked.)

Me: “Really?! I was told that there was no way I was allowed; he had orders from his superior…”

Secretary #1: “Well, I apologize for the confusion, but I can assure you he has agreed. Will you come in for a counseling session?”

(I agreed, and we set up an appointment. Since neither secretary gave me their name, I couldn’t file a complaint about the one who, for seemingly no reason, was rather desperate to keep me from seeing the doctor I was comfortable with. Oh, well.)