Went to the doctor last week. A psychiatrist, at the request of my new primary care doctor who does not want to "handle" prescribing the anti-anxiety drug I take. So I go see this shrink, my second visit with her.
She asked, "What's been going on since our last visit?" and I tell her, "Well, I have been diagnosed with a rare stomach cancer."
Shrink: Oh, my. How are you coping?
ME: Trying to hold it together but it is tough, with losing my husband 11 months ago to cancer, and pretty much feeling scared and upset most days.
Shrink: So, do you feel like giving up? You know. Joining him? (exact quote!)
ME: Nah, I am not suicidal, just upset and pretty scared this is happening to me.
Shrink: Do you want some antidepressant medication?
ME: Nah, I am not really depressed. Just upset and scared, which I think is pretty NORMAL, considering.
Shrink: Well, I think that it would be good for us to "visit" once a month, and of course I will write the prescription for your medication, but I don't want to add any more stress to your life by insisting you come see me.
ME: Good thinking. How about I see you next, say, mid-January, and I'll call you if things change with me and I get depressed?
On the bus ride home I wonder, does the shrink look in the mirror to practice that look? You know which look: tilt head slightly, wrinkle the forehead, nod at everything the client says, and utter, "Hm" every few seconds.
No comments:
Post a Comment