Shrink
I take you back to the 1970's. Saturday nights on CBS. Big night for comedy. All in the Family, Mary, MASH and remember the old Bob Newhart Show. Set in Chicago. The one where he plays a Shrink, has a redhead receptionist and a hot wife played by the great Suzanne Pleshette.
I bring that up because yesterday I was sent to see a psychiatrist by the Department of Human Services in Springfield, Illinois. It's part of the procedure for determining disability. It also means we're getting close to the end of round one, in this battle.
Back to the shrink.....if he had a wife like Suzy P,. I'd swear I was back in the land of sitcoms. Who knows....maybe he does.
I walk into his office and there's another patient waiting. Was it Mr. Carlin? No...Jack Riley lives in California. Darn.
I'm in the waiting room, reading a magazine. The door opens. Is it Carol the receptionist? Can't be, she's dead. Jerry the Orthodontist? No! Such disappointment.
It was the psychiatrist motioning me into his office. He tells me to have a seat on his couch. They really do have couches in those offices. He sits in this stylish chair where his ass was almost touching the ground and his feet were higher than his head.
Ok...let's get to work. Did you bring your prescription drugs? I gave him all eight bottles. He didn't seem shocked. I don't know why cuz I still am when I take all of them every morning.
He asked how I was feeling? I said I was a little anxious. After all, I'm with a guy who is sitting like a cat asking all kinds of personal questions.
We went through a series of test questions and then came the big one. " Are you depressed?"
Hey! Mr. Shrink! I'm sitting here with you. I've got Parkinson's. I'm taking EIGHT pills every morning. I've got all kinds of stress going. What the fuck do you think? Don't you ever read my blog?
We went on for a few more minutes. He asked a lot of questions about drug and alcohol use/abuse. What's with all these doctors being interested in drug use from more than 25 years ago? They must think I'm having daily acid flashbacks.
Finally it came to an end with these words, " Mr. Moore, thanks for coming in today. It was nice to meet you. I recommend that you go to a psychiatrist and he can prescribe something for the anxiety and depression."
BINGO!!
Those are the magic words. I don't want to take those drugs. I just want the words anxiety and depression in his report.
You see, the idea wasn't to show him that I can function. The idea is to be dysfunctional...and anyone who has known me in the last couple of years can vouch for that.
The appointment ends and I leave. A couple of hours later, the shrink leaves, grabs his bus on Michigan Avenue, to his home at Malibu Apartments. Oh wait....never mind. That's the Newhart show.
Today's blog has been an MTM Production
MEOW