Wednesday, July 11, 2012
21st March 2012
Today I saw the mental health counselor. It was a good lot of work over getting a simple prescription refilled but it had to be done. I slept a few hours of my morning and made haste to see this fellow who would give me leave to see the doctor.
It is a formality with my medical provider that I must first see a Counselor or Psychologist before I can see a Psychiatrist. This being that the first two are Master Arts or Philosophical Doctor rather than Medical Doctor and are without the ability to grant my prescription.
In all truth, I have no resentment to this formality because of how important it is for most folks. A psychiatric medication is like a crutch that we use to help the mind heal and in said healing that crutch should one day be discarded. Thus, we may think of the Counselor as we would think of a Physical Therapist. The Counselor is there to make the bits of us that do not work do as they should.
By the nature of our interview I told the Counselor of my intention to use the medication to quash my ill feeling as I conduct systematic desensitization. He told me that he was surprised that I was so functional a man given my history and the stresses of my life. I imagine, had he read about me and not seen me, that he would have expected a drooling idiot rather than a man.
He told me that I appeared to be a rather nice person. I have never claimed that to be true but I got the feeling he meant something else. In any case, he cleared me to see the doctor and that is what he was there for so I must concede his usefulness.
Stay safe, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
Also updating today!
Random Street Theater a Comic