My Psychiatrists

During my first hospitalization in 2007, my psychiatrist's name was a popular acronym with a scary connotation. I remember being frightened by his name (remember, I was psychotic and irrational). I got offended when he called me psychotic. At this time, I only associated psychotic with the definition that gets thrown about in the movies. Psychosis (comes from the Greek ψυχή psyche, "mind/soul", and -ωσις -osis, "abnormal condition or derangement") refers to an abnormal condition of the mind, and is a generic psychiatric term for a mental state often described as involving a "loss of contact with reality". People suffering from psychosis are described as psychotic (Wikipedia).

During my second hospitalization in 2013, my psychiatrist's name was an anagram of my personal psychiatrist's name. In 2014, I had the same psych from 2007. I came to love him this time.

I teach English so I pay attention to words. In fact, I love words. Words have power. Words convey deep meaning. Words are the building blocks of communication.

In 2013, I was also psychotic but less so than in 2007. I had a few very public arguments with my psychiatrist. When he did my initial meeting, he did not make eye contact with me. He kept his eyes on my chart or on the computer. I heard that he was brilliant when it came to figuring out the right medicine. After a couple of days, I was ready to leave. So I signed a 48-hour hold. This document ensures that the staff watches you carefully for 48 hours. At the end of the time period they make one of two recommendations: either to let you go, or, if you present a risk to yourself or others they will involuntarily commit you. This document goes in the first page of your chart. When it came time to meet with my psychiatrist I told him I would follow up the next day with my personal psychiatrist. He looked confused and asked me what I was talking about. I told him about the 48-hour hold. He became visibly upset and told me he could no longer treat me if I wasn't going to stay in the hospital and blindly accept his medical opinion. He walked out of the office. I followed him. This particular doctor doesn't do "story;" he only does data. If he had read my chart he would have noticed my 48-hour hold document on the first page of my chart, but he flipped right to the middle. By this time we are yelling at each other. I told him he has Asperger's and was probably hospitalized himself as a child or young adult. I know, harsh. I told you I was psychotic and irrational. Eventually, he talked me into rescinding my hold and remaining in the hospital. A few days later I started to respond to the treatment. After my severe skin reactions to the Lithium and Trileptal, he called me a "dermatalogic dilemma." Shortly thereafter, my insurance kicked me out of the hospital after 10 days. My psychiatrist frantically asked me what should he say to the insurance company to get me to stay. They weren't hearing it; I had to go. But you know what, by the end of my hospital stay, this doctor was making eye contact with me! A huge feat for him, I'm sure.

One of the patient care technicians told me the insurance companies kick people out of the behavioral health unit as soon as they show signs of getting better. So my 17-day stay in 2007 wouldn't be possible anymore. This same tech said that this new policy has increased the relapses they see. People get released one day and are then right back on the unit after a week or a month. Insurance companies do not care about people.

In 2014, I actually requested my doctor from 2013. But he was on vacation when I arrived on the unit, so I was assigned to another doctor. This doctor is charismatic and funny. I truly enjoyed meeting with him. I asked if he could be my personal psychiatrist, but he doesn't see private patients. He works at the hospital full time. He said a lot of his patients ask to see him privately; I can believe it. I told him that I lost weight (I always lose weight when I have an episode, whether depressed or manic). But instead of crying like I did in 2013 (because losing weight meant I was really sick), I was very happy. At my heaviest I got up to 171 pounds. When I entered the hospital on Thursday I had gotten down to 158! I would like to lose 23 more pounds (I'll be joining the YMCA later this month so I can continue exercising over the summer vacation). The doctor said maybe we can leave you manic for two more weeks so you can lose more weight! If only! We both cracked up laughing at this. I've been with my psychiatrist for 7 years. He's Korean-American and is very stoic and serious. My two meetings with this doctor showed me that I can have more out of my relationship with my psychiatrist. I asked him to recommend a new psychiatrist to me; someone with his temperament and personality. My social worker said that is a rare combination for a psychiatrist. I hope I can find a good substitute for this doctor.

I like to write thank you notes to express my gratitude. I wrote one to both of these psychiatrists. And I apologized for arguing with last year's doctor and telling him he had Asperger's. They both thanked me for my thank you's.