Good morning! Fridays are day-long affairs for me at Disability physicals. I’m trying to squeeze a blog in between patients, so forgive me if my thoughts are a little discombobulated. My wife told me yesterday that my next blog should be a little more philosophical, since the last few entries have been more comic than serious in nature. So…I decided to listen to her, and write about something that we see quite a bit of here in disability land – Fibromyalgia. Oooooh boy, controversy here we come.
Fibromyalgia (FM), the redheaded step child of the chronic pain population. Nobody really knows what causes it…maybe it’s depression, maybe it’s obesity, maybe it’s eating too much Thai food. What we do know, however, is that the number of people diagnosed with FM seem to be on the rise, even though the criteria for diagnosis is foggy at best – subjective pain elicited by specific point compression. To make things more…concrete, there is a FM tender point sheet, with 18 tender points scattered over the body. To be diagnosed with FM, one must have 11 of those points “elicit pain with approximately 4 lbs of force applied.” Now, I know I have sensitive hands and everything, but can you really differentiate between 3 lbs and 5 lbs? Do I need to get a pressure-gauge thing like they use to measure the force of kinetic motion and strap it onto my hands before I test said points? I don’t know, maybe I’m over analyzing things, but it seems to me that if you push hard enough, people will say “ouch,” regardless of whether or not you have the disease.
Things get even foggier when we delve into the treatments for fibromyalgia. OTC pain relievers, topical pain reducers, and even narcotics are common therapies for the condition, all of which have questionable efficacy. Interestingly, new studies are coming out left and right revealing a decrease in symptoms with the use of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs). In case you didn’t know, serotonin is a neuro-hormone that, among other things, produces a sense of “well-being” in the body. SSRIs work by increasing the amount of circulating serotonin, thereby making the patient feel happier…sounds like a great way to treat depression, right? That’s because Paxil, Prozac, Celexa and a slew of other anti-depressant medications are SSRIs. Why then, are we using SSRIs to treat fibromyalgia? Could there be a correlation between fibromyalgia and depression? This Disillusioned Doctor thinks so. My guess is that in a few years some study will come out that will show fibromyalgia to be a form of the “psychomotor aspect of depression” – an elusive symptom that is defined by, among other things, lowered pain threshold, muscle weakness and problems with coordination. Now, I’m not saying that all patients with fibromyalgia exhibit the above symptoms. What I am saying is that every one of the disability patients I’ve seen that lists Fibromyalgia as their main complaint also has depression somewhere in their medical history. Coincidence? I doubt it.
So, now that we’ve “defined” the disease, what do we do about it? Sure, we can keep prescribing pain pills and muscle relaxers, maybe even throw in a few SSRIs for good measure. My opinion is, however, that we’re not approaching this condition correctly. By calling it a disease, putting ads on the TV, and making medication that is “specifically for fibromyalgia” (which, amazingly, is just an SSRI), we as a medical community are giving teeth to something that should be listed as a symptom, and not the main cause of a problem. Fact: Depression lowers your pain threshold. Fact: The majority of medications used to treat FM can also be used to treat depression. Fact: The population that is at highest risk for FM is also at highest risk for depression. There are just too many coincidences here to ignore. We as physicians need to get to the heart of this matter, and really reevaluate the way we look at fibromyalgia as a whole. Is it something that exists totally by itself, or is it something that only occurs when other factors are present? In summation, are we just treating the symptoms (the muscle aches and pains) and forgetting about the actual disease? Only time will tell.
And now, for the disability quote(s) of the day:
Me: “So tell me about your seizures.”
Girl: “Well, I ain’t never seen them, but my boyfriend tells me I’m like ‘I’m shaking!’ Then I go ‘ooogh’ or something. Then the seizure is done.”
Me: “…so…how long do your seizures last?”
Girl: “Just as long as I can say ‘ooooogh.’”
Me: “Alrighty.”
Patient’s written response to the question, “Who can we call for further information about your condition?”
“You can call Gerry On the Hill. I don’t know her number, though.”
Have a good weekend,
-DD
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Heart Breaker
Well, it’s another Thursday morning. That means Yoga at 5:30 AM, then disability physicals…and since it is finals week at the medical school, I have to adjudicate a clinical skills practical at 1:00. All in all, not too shabby, although the first patient of the morning decided to no-show, how nice of them. Anyway, if you’re wondering why my last post was sometime last week, it’s because I’ve been trying to write while I’m at work, and since my schedule is all over the place, well you get the picture. On to the blog!
Saturday was a day of depression claimants. Every stinkin’ one of them came in stating “I feel down, I can’t work,” or “I’m just sad, so I can’t work,” or “My girl left me for a girl, now I can’t work.” Seriously, that last statement came from a guy whose father left an angry message on the office machine at 7:30 stating “Where you all at, my son’s appointment is at 9:00, why ain’t nobody in the office?” While I understand the need for the business to open before the first patient of the day, I honestly can’t see any office opening an hour-and-a-half before the first patient, let alone on a Saturday. Anyway, once 9:00 rolled around, the door flew open, dude and his father walked in.
The claimant was 45, dressed in a t-shirt and jean shorts, his (mid 60’s appearing) father was dressed in a partially open Tommy Bahama shirt, short, short khaki shorts, and bright blue flip-flops (or thongs, as some people call them). I ushered them into my office - the claimant slumped to the corner chair, and the father walked towards my desk, pulled out the chair in front of me, spun it around, and straddled it…which as you can imagine, was not what I wanted to see first thing Saturday morning (did I mention that the shorts were short?). Anyway, the dad did most of the talking – the son couldn’t work because his girlfriend of “a really long time – six months, left him for another woman.” Apparently the g/f decided that she would rather be a lesbian than be with the claimant, and this had insulted his masculinity to such an extent that according to the father, he just “sits on the couch, cries all the time, and watches the history channel.” When further questioned, the claimant admitted that he couldn’t do any household chores or help with activities because “my girl used to do all of that, and trying to do it reminds me too much of her.” I asked him if there was any physical reason why he couldn’t perform those tasks, and he replied “no, but the memories of our love are just too painful to allow me to do those things.” How touching. Who knew that disability patients could be so poetic? We proceeded to the physical exam, which was normal, as you might expect.
As they left, the father said to me, “Doc, you gotta help him. He’s just so lovesick, I don’t know what to do. Any advice on how to win the girl back?”
I shook my head, “The government doesn’t allow me to give medical advice at these appointments,” I replied.
“Then the government don’t understand love,” he mumbled as he walked out of the door. And that was that.
And now for the disability quote of the day:
Patient’s written response to the question “How does your condition limit your ability to work?”
“It doesn’t, but my friend got money this way, so I thought I would try too.”
Until later,
-DD
Saturday was a day of depression claimants. Every stinkin’ one of them came in stating “I feel down, I can’t work,” or “I’m just sad, so I can’t work,” or “My girl left me for a girl, now I can’t work.” Seriously, that last statement came from a guy whose father left an angry message on the office machine at 7:30 stating “Where you all at, my son’s appointment is at 9:00, why ain’t nobody in the office?” While I understand the need for the business to open before the first patient of the day, I honestly can’t see any office opening an hour-and-a-half before the first patient, let alone on a Saturday. Anyway, once 9:00 rolled around, the door flew open, dude and his father walked in.
The claimant was 45, dressed in a t-shirt and jean shorts, his (mid 60’s appearing) father was dressed in a partially open Tommy Bahama shirt, short, short khaki shorts, and bright blue flip-flops (or thongs, as some people call them). I ushered them into my office - the claimant slumped to the corner chair, and the father walked towards my desk, pulled out the chair in front of me, spun it around, and straddled it…which as you can imagine, was not what I wanted to see first thing Saturday morning (did I mention that the shorts were short?). Anyway, the dad did most of the talking – the son couldn’t work because his girlfriend of “a really long time – six months, left him for another woman.” Apparently the g/f decided that she would rather be a lesbian than be with the claimant, and this had insulted his masculinity to such an extent that according to the father, he just “sits on the couch, cries all the time, and watches the history channel.” When further questioned, the claimant admitted that he couldn’t do any household chores or help with activities because “my girl used to do all of that, and trying to do it reminds me too much of her.” I asked him if there was any physical reason why he couldn’t perform those tasks, and he replied “no, but the memories of our love are just too painful to allow me to do those things.” How touching. Who knew that disability patients could be so poetic? We proceeded to the physical exam, which was normal, as you might expect.
As they left, the father said to me, “Doc, you gotta help him. He’s just so lovesick, I don’t know what to do. Any advice on how to win the girl back?”
I shook my head, “The government doesn’t allow me to give medical advice at these appointments,” I replied.
“Then the government don’t understand love,” he mumbled as he walked out of the door. And that was that.
And now for the disability quote of the day:
Patient’s written response to the question “How does your condition limit your ability to work?”
“It doesn’t, but my friend got money this way, so I thought I would try too.”
Until later,
-DD
Friday, April 30, 2010
Jive Talkin'
Good morning! Since we’re having a slight lull right now at the new office, I thought I’d take a little time and write on the ‘ol blog, since so many of you expressed some manner of joy with the post on Tuesday.
I’ve been doing this whole disability thing for about a year now, and there are two things that I routinely see that continue to amaze me (there are really more than two, but these just stick in my mind). No. 1: The amount of people who, while admitting wholeheartedly that they smoke cigarettes, have a mini-stroke if you ask them if they drink alcohol. No. 2: The fact that the homeless shelter seems to give out 1970’s era clothes only to its residents. Let’s talk about number one first.
First, a caveat. If you’re a smoker, I’m sorry if this offends you…but you should quit! It’s dangerous for you, the people around you, and just think, you could be using all that money that you spend on cigarettes to buy things like food, Lortab or clothes that you could donate to the homeless shelter so every resident doesn’t have to walk around looking like an extra in the Made-for-TV-Movie version of Shaft. It simply amazes me that people view imbibing alcohol as such a nasty habit, while they smoke 20 cigarettes a day, and make my office smell like the Marlboro man’s hamper. Just this morning, I had a lady who was applying for disability due to her advanced COPD, and admitted that she still smoked 2 packs a day. When I asked her if she drank alcohol, she scrunched up her face into a puckered wrinkle, and spat, “oh Lord no, that’s disgusting!” I wanted to say, “what you just did with your face was disgusting,” but I don’t think Social Security would take too kindly to that. Now, I know that people argue that “drinking makes you drunk, which is a bad thing to be, while smoking just makes you relax, and actually helps you loose weight.” Granted, weight loss is a good thing, especially when the majority of our population is clinically overweight. That said, there are much better ways to go about shedding some pounds that puffing on an “all natural” mixture of tobacco, tar, glycerin, ammonia, CO2, CO, and a bunch of other capital letters followed by some random numbers. Rant done.
As for the 70’s clothes…well, there’s really not much to say about that, except that I hope that one day bell-bottoms, polyester shirts and patent-leather jackets will be the rage again, because the Salvation Army has a surplus! I’d like to know who keeps donating this stuff, because it seems that every time I see a claimant who is staying at the homeless shelter, they’re wearing something straight out of Saturday Night Fever. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m bashing these people who, obviously, don’t really have the funds to buy anything, let alone clothes, because I’m not. I’m simply amazed at the trend that I keep seeing, and was relaying that fact. That said, if there are any aspiring filmmakers out there who plan on doing a 1970’s action movie, you now know where to get your costumes.
And now for the disability quote of the day:
Me: “So how does your heart murmur keep you from working?”
Angry man: “It was there since birth.”
Me: “…OK, well, does it keep you from performing normal activities?”
Man: “No, but I don’t want to stress my murmur, because I feel that my heart could explode at any time.”
Me: “Did someone tell you that your heart could explode?”
Man: “No, but I saw it on Mortal Kombat once.”
Me: “Ok then, next question.”
I’ve been doing this whole disability thing for about a year now, and there are two things that I routinely see that continue to amaze me (there are really more than two, but these just stick in my mind). No. 1: The amount of people who, while admitting wholeheartedly that they smoke cigarettes, have a mini-stroke if you ask them if they drink alcohol. No. 2: The fact that the homeless shelter seems to give out 1970’s era clothes only to its residents. Let’s talk about number one first.
First, a caveat. If you’re a smoker, I’m sorry if this offends you…but you should quit! It’s dangerous for you, the people around you, and just think, you could be using all that money that you spend on cigarettes to buy things like food, Lortab or clothes that you could donate to the homeless shelter so every resident doesn’t have to walk around looking like an extra in the Made-for-TV-Movie version of Shaft. It simply amazes me that people view imbibing alcohol as such a nasty habit, while they smoke 20 cigarettes a day, and make my office smell like the Marlboro man’s hamper. Just this morning, I had a lady who was applying for disability due to her advanced COPD, and admitted that she still smoked 2 packs a day. When I asked her if she drank alcohol, she scrunched up her face into a puckered wrinkle, and spat, “oh Lord no, that’s disgusting!” I wanted to say, “what you just did with your face was disgusting,” but I don’t think Social Security would take too kindly to that. Now, I know that people argue that “drinking makes you drunk, which is a bad thing to be, while smoking just makes you relax, and actually helps you loose weight.” Granted, weight loss is a good thing, especially when the majority of our population is clinically overweight. That said, there are much better ways to go about shedding some pounds that puffing on an “all natural” mixture of tobacco, tar, glycerin, ammonia, CO2, CO, and a bunch of other capital letters followed by some random numbers. Rant done.
As for the 70’s clothes…well, there’s really not much to say about that, except that I hope that one day bell-bottoms, polyester shirts and patent-leather jackets will be the rage again, because the Salvation Army has a surplus! I’d like to know who keeps donating this stuff, because it seems that every time I see a claimant who is staying at the homeless shelter, they’re wearing something straight out of Saturday Night Fever. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m bashing these people who, obviously, don’t really have the funds to buy anything, let alone clothes, because I’m not. I’m simply amazed at the trend that I keep seeing, and was relaying that fact. That said, if there are any aspiring filmmakers out there who plan on doing a 1970’s action movie, you now know where to get your costumes.
And now for the disability quote of the day:
Me: “So how does your heart murmur keep you from working?”
Angry man: “It was there since birth.”
Me: “…OK, well, does it keep you from performing normal activities?”
Man: “No, but I don’t want to stress my murmur, because I feel that my heart could explode at any time.”
Me: “Did someone tell you that your heart could explode?”
Man: “No, but I saw it on Mortal Kombat once.”
Me: “Ok then, next question.”
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
From the office of...
Good morning! I'm writing this AM from my new office at my very own Disability Physical consulting firm (actually, my wife owns it, I'm just an employee...take that, gender roles!). My wife and I decided that it would be in our best interest to part ways with the old disability place, and now, 1.5 months later, I'm proud to be sitting at a new desk, in a freshly painted, climate controlled room, with nary a spider in sight. As you can imagine, it's taken quite some gumption and hard work to get this place up and running in such a short time, so you'll have to forgive my writing absence. We started seeing patients yesterday morning, and I must say, it's so different working at your own place. I actually get a little excited coming to work in the morning...but I'm sure that will wear off once the newness passes. Or maybe not, who knows?
Anyway, the patients so far have been pretty normal, with the exception of one individual, whose story I will relay to you presently. Mr. Genericfakename schlumped into the office yesterday morning, smelling of mildew and cat pee, wearing a bright t-shirt with what I think used to be the Brazilian flag emblazed across the front, but had since been dissolved in a miasma of mustard, pickle relish and mud (I hope) stains. He physically fit the bill of the stereotypical computer…guy – obese, frontal balding, tiny, tiny glasses. His chief complaint was "Asthma and computer skills." How those two go together, I don't know...maybe there's a new syndrome I haven't heard of. Anyway, he stated that he "couldn't breath good, and I can't work the computer." After some further questioning, he stated that typing for more than eight hours caused his hands to cramp, and he stated that by the end of the day, he couldn't even press his inhaler because his hands hurt so much. I asked him if he was currently working, and he stated "no, but if you mean working the computer, then yes I work." ....Well...ok. He further went on to say that "I used to be on Amazon or EBAY all day, but now I can't buy anything, and my hands hurt." Well, we proceeded to the physical exam, which aside from some normal asthmatic lung findings, was totally normal. I thanked him for his time, and as he left the room, he asked if I could email him a copy of the exam. I told him no.
I guess the moral of the story is that if you're going to be on the computer all day, you should probably take care of your hands. In this digital age, good ergonomic support is important...especially if you don't want to miss your winning bid on EBAY.
And now for the quote of the day:
Me: "So tell me about your diabetes."
Woman: "All I know is that when I my sugar gets low, I gotta go drink some sweet tea. Then I feel better, until I have to go to the hospital because I feel bad."
Me: "...Alright."
Have a good one,
-DD
Anyway, the patients so far have been pretty normal, with the exception of one individual, whose story I will relay to you presently. Mr. Genericfakename schlumped into the office yesterday morning, smelling of mildew and cat pee, wearing a bright t-shirt with what I think used to be the Brazilian flag emblazed across the front, but had since been dissolved in a miasma of mustard, pickle relish and mud (I hope) stains. He physically fit the bill of the stereotypical computer…guy – obese, frontal balding, tiny, tiny glasses. His chief complaint was "Asthma and computer skills." How those two go together, I don't know...maybe there's a new syndrome I haven't heard of. Anyway, he stated that he "couldn't breath good, and I can't work the computer." After some further questioning, he stated that typing for more than eight hours caused his hands to cramp, and he stated that by the end of the day, he couldn't even press his inhaler because his hands hurt so much. I asked him if he was currently working, and he stated "no, but if you mean working the computer, then yes I work." ....Well...ok. He further went on to say that "I used to be on Amazon or EBAY all day, but now I can't buy anything, and my hands hurt." Well, we proceeded to the physical exam, which aside from some normal asthmatic lung findings, was totally normal. I thanked him for his time, and as he left the room, he asked if I could email him a copy of the exam. I told him no.
I guess the moral of the story is that if you're going to be on the computer all day, you should probably take care of your hands. In this digital age, good ergonomic support is important...especially if you don't want to miss your winning bid on EBAY.
And now for the quote of the day:
Me: "So tell me about your diabetes."
Woman: "All I know is that when I my sugar gets low, I gotta go drink some sweet tea. Then I feel better, until I have to go to the hospital because I feel bad."
Me: "...Alright."
Have a good one,
-DD
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
A list of maladies
It's been a busy week at Disability Physicals - almost no no-shows, and people amazing keeping their appointments have really caused my work load to pick up. In lieu of writing a large diatribe about individual people, I've elected tonight to compile a list of the myriad "illnesses" people have used as their source for disability. I'll try and do this once-a-month or so, providing there are enough unique entries. When possible, I've tried to put the maladies in the claimant's own words. That said, let the listing commence!
1.) "I have to sleep on my back to sleep."
2.) "I have to sleep on my side to sleep." (I'm hoping that someone will "have" to sleep on their stomach to sleep..but that might be too much to ask for).
3.) Photophobia
4.) "Cryptics in my shoulders" (When asked further about "cryptics," the pt couldn't say more...just that they were there).
5.) "I keep having picnic attacks." (I think she meant panic...but who knows, maybe she's afraid of bears?)
6.) Poor self esteem
7.) "I died three times, but I came back."
8.) "My head is constantly there."
9.) "I get annoyed with annoying people."
10.) "When I get angry at my boss, I get fired."
11.) "I've got maniacal depression." (I think she meant manic depression...but maybe she's a maniac, maniac, too)
12.) "I keep seeing shadows in my permhairyal vision" (Once again, I think she meant peripheral).
13.) "When I get mad, I turn into Heckle and Jive" (Not Heckle and Jive!!!)
Whew, that's a pretty inclusive list of diseases...I think they need to teach a couple classes in med school on Picnic attacks and the dangers of Permhairyal vision, if not write a new chapter in Harrison's Internal Medicine.
And now, for the disability quotes of the day:
Me: "So does anything make your pelvic pain better?"
Elderly woman: "Well, my husband bought me this vibrating thing, and if I sit on it for a while, it makes all my pain go away."
Me: "Do you hear or see things other people don't?"
Man: "Not really, but my spirit guides often try and help me solve mysteries."
Me: "Do you succeed?"
Man: "I'm no Matlock, but we do pretty well."
Be wary of Heckle and Jive,
-DD
1.) "I have to sleep on my back to sleep."
2.) "I have to sleep on my side to sleep." (I'm hoping that someone will "have" to sleep on their stomach to sleep..but that might be too much to ask for).
3.) Photophobia
4.) "Cryptics in my shoulders" (When asked further about "cryptics," the pt couldn't say more...just that they were there).
5.) "I keep having picnic attacks." (I think she meant panic...but who knows, maybe she's afraid of bears?)
6.) Poor self esteem
7.) "I died three times, but I came back."
8.) "My head is constantly there."
9.) "I get annoyed with annoying people."
10.) "When I get angry at my boss, I get fired."
11.) "I've got maniacal depression." (I think she meant manic depression...but maybe she's a maniac, maniac, too)
12.) "I keep seeing shadows in my permhairyal vision" (Once again, I think she meant peripheral).
13.) "When I get mad, I turn into Heckle and Jive" (Not Heckle and Jive!!!)
Whew, that's a pretty inclusive list of diseases...I think they need to teach a couple classes in med school on Picnic attacks and the dangers of Permhairyal vision, if not write a new chapter in Harrison's Internal Medicine.
And now, for the disability quotes of the day:
Me: "So does anything make your pelvic pain better?"
Elderly woman: "Well, my husband bought me this vibrating thing, and if I sit on it for a while, it makes all my pain go away."
Me: "Do you hear or see things other people don't?"
Man: "Not really, but my spirit guides often try and help me solve mysteries."
Me: "Do you succeed?"
Man: "I'm no Matlock, but we do pretty well."
Be wary of Heckle and Jive,
-DD
Dictablog
I'm trying something new - using combinations of Dragon dictation and the blog software on my iPhone. This is just a test post to see if this works. If it does, we'll have more frequent updates since I can just update when I'm thinking about it
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Crabbed age and Youth
Short entry tonight. Last week yielded an alarming number of young (18-22 y/o) applicants for disability, with the majority of them stating some sort of mental illness for their main complaint. Now don't get me wrong, I know that depression is a serious medical illness, and can definitely have life-threatening consequences if left untreated. That said, it frustrates me to no end when some 18 y/o comes in, states "I'm just too tired or sad to work," and then proceeds to tell me that they've never been on medication, had counseling, or done any other number of things to try and treat their disease...if they even really have one. I know that I'm not a Psychiatrist, but it just doesn't make sense that feeling "ho hum about most things" should qualify you for free money for the rest of your life. In addition, the wonderful diagnosis of ADHD seems to be tacked on to most young applicants, who then seem to have no difficulty sitting still, answering my 10 minute question barrage, and then following instructions. Maybe they just all took their medication that morning, I don't know, but something starts to smell pretty rotten when every ADHD patient calmly cooperates for 30 minutes without acting like that dog from the movie UP.
The unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on who you are) thing is is that most of the young, "emotionally troubled" individuals end up getting disability in the end. Whether that's because they live long enough to re-apply 6 or 7 times, whereas the actually sick people don't, I don't know, but it just doesn't seem right that our tax dollars are going towards paying for people who would rather, as one person this week put it, "just sit around and smoke weed all day," than work for their money. There needs to be some better indicator of disease process severity than just asking the usual Depression questions, although I admit, I don't know what that would be. There's a research project for some of you budding physicians out there.
If the above thoughts come across as bashing mental illness, then I apologize. There is no doubt that depression, bipolar disorder and all the psychoses in between affect a large portion of our population. What I am bashing, however, is the blatant labeling of people with said diseases, who in all honesty, are not depressed, bipolar and so on. Validation is a powerful tool in the hands of the lazy. Going around and saying "you're sad? I'm sorry, here's some free money" does nothing to actually help that person, and in the grand scheme of things, ends up hurting society as a whole.
And now for the disability quotes of the day:
Patient's written response to the question "how are you disabled?"
"Gingivitis got me good."
Angry woman: "You said that this form only takes 30 minutes to fill out? I spent 23 hours over two days, and peed on myself four times trying to complete it."
Me: "So you say that you see things that other people don't?"
18 y/o girl: "Yeah, I see shadows a lot."
Me: "Is there any time that you see the shadows more?
Girl: "Usually at dusk or dawn."
Me: "...Alrighty."
Until next time,
-DD
The unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on who you are) thing is is that most of the young, "emotionally troubled" individuals end up getting disability in the end. Whether that's because they live long enough to re-apply 6 or 7 times, whereas the actually sick people don't, I don't know, but it just doesn't seem right that our tax dollars are going towards paying for people who would rather, as one person this week put it, "just sit around and smoke weed all day," than work for their money. There needs to be some better indicator of disease process severity than just asking the usual Depression questions, although I admit, I don't know what that would be. There's a research project for some of you budding physicians out there.
If the above thoughts come across as bashing mental illness, then I apologize. There is no doubt that depression, bipolar disorder and all the psychoses in between affect a large portion of our population. What I am bashing, however, is the blatant labeling of people with said diseases, who in all honesty, are not depressed, bipolar and so on. Validation is a powerful tool in the hands of the lazy. Going around and saying "you're sad? I'm sorry, here's some free money" does nothing to actually help that person, and in the grand scheme of things, ends up hurting society as a whole.
And now for the disability quotes of the day:
Patient's written response to the question "how are you disabled?"
"Gingivitis got me good."
Angry woman: "You said that this form only takes 30 minutes to fill out? I spent 23 hours over two days, and peed on myself four times trying to complete it."
Me: "So you say that you see things that other people don't?"
18 y/o girl: "Yeah, I see shadows a lot."
Me: "Is there any time that you see the shadows more?
Girl: "Usually at dusk or dawn."
Me: "...Alrighty."
Until next time,
-DD
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)