“I’m so sorry!  It’s been such a hectic day!”

Christ.  When your out of breath therapist greets you like that, you know it’s going to be a crap session.

A depressed Tom on the railroad tracks awaitin...

A depressed Tom on the railroad tracks awaiting a train to run him over. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve just come from telling my therapist for the last 50 minutes how I’m no better from when she saw me last week and I just don’t care about anything anymore.  I’m not doing much housework. My husband and I are living off of microwave meals at night because I can’t bear to cook. I was even too apathetic to cry this session.  Usually, I leave there without a trace of mascara.

She agreed I am depressed.

After going through all the required figures and further describing my own depressive hell, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

“So, what do you want us to do for you?”

“Us” being the care team I see at the facility I go to – Psychiatrist, Nurse’s Assistant, Therapist.

Uh, OK…this is a fair question, albeit a weird one.  “Do for me?”

“Yes, what do you want us to do for you?”

Ah, OK.  I get it.  Her tone and some further explanation made it clear. She was at a loss for what kind of therapeutic intervention I require going forward and she wanted me to dictate.

I explained to her that on the planet I come from (The United States), the Gentry (care providers)  do not ask their subordinates (patients) for input about a ‘team approach’ and I was totally out of my element.  In my world, it’s the doctors who are the experts and the almost non-functioning depressed patients were at their mercy.  People who are as far gone as I am – those who almost phone in their session because they’re not motivated enough to drive and who find it hard to shower every day – are in trouble and require someone else to dictate the treatment to them.

Well, she wasn’t having it.

I have no follow-up appointment with her.  I will see my Nurse Practitioner next Friday and then…

Everyone has bad, hectic days.  I take pity on my therapist because clearly she wasn’t feeling the love by our 4PM session.

All compassion aside, I’m still in a freaking horrible situation.  On the way home I got to thinking, with all of this ‘patients take charge of their own treatment’ attitude, what’s going to happen when I’m really out of it and manic?  Will my ‘team’ listen to ‘reason’ and buy me a plane ticket to Hollywood so I can keep that date with Bradley Cooper?  You’ve got to laugh.

Yeah, today’s session was a circle jerk waste of my time.  Tomorrow I will see how I feel.  If it’s as bad as today, the NP just might get a call for an emergency appointment.

Joy.

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