Hey,
I have returned.
We have been down here by the water almost all summer, but things got too hectic being all relaxed and social so we had to get away.
We headed north to the empty spaces of the Canadian Maritimes. We saw the big tides come and go at the Bay of Fundy. They were everything anyone could ask of tides, but I realized that not everyone cares about tides.
While we were away, as I was looking back over my shoulder, we missed a lot of the fireworks that were political in nature. It became obvious that not everyone cares much about people either. Money, greed, anger and paranoia are still all the rage. And rage seems to be the right word.
I read a poll that said that most people in Ohio think that the terrorists are winning the war on terror. I don't know what's going on in Ohio, why they feel surrounded by terrorists. I know here on the Cape I don't feel the necessity to stand guard on the beach. It may be that the terrorists are behind the ridiculous prices of some lobster rolls, but I can show you a place that sells a lobster roll BLT that will blow your taste buds away. And not too expensive either.
In Florida the state legislature passed a law forbidding doctors from asking people if they owned guns, and if so, are those guns kept where kids can't get to them. I guess you can never trust a doctor who worries about kids accidentally shooting other kids. Restricting freedom.
Anyway, I'm back now. I'll take care of all that. Rest easy.
Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Monday, February 10, 2014
Aging Out
Been a while.
I got away. I couldn't stand the cold so I went somewhere warm. It was beautiful. Came back. It's cold again. "Why are we here?" asks the wife. Answer is becoming more difficult to articulate.
....Well, the grandchildren are here....
Now I am spending two and a half days seeming patients. I get out in the middle of Thursday and leave the office for the new, young guy. He reminds me of myself as his age: energetic and idealistic. He is only sixty-two.
But I didn't go home. I had to stop on the way at a rehabilitation center (nursing home) and do an evaluation of Martin. I first saw Martin around 1983. He was sent to me by his doctor, who hoped someone could help him. Martin was well known around town, especially by the police. He was angry and paranoid. He was colorful and expressive. His ideas of who was out to get him included not only the police, but the utility companies, and the air force. His delusions about the air force was based upon the planes flying over his house. This later morphed into being that the birds flying over his house had been trained to spy on him.
In those days that was considered crazy thinking. Now, of course, how many drones look exactly like birds?
Martin was once good looking and charming, when he was not ranting against the world and getting in fights. He fathered four boys with two different women. He wasn't the greatest father, as he would wander off for a couple of years at a time. Once in a while he would send each of the mothers a check. He meant well, but really couldn't maintain any consist work, relationships or even state of mind.
About ten years ago one of his boys died in of either a fight, an overdose or a fall. It was never quite clear, and was probably a bit of all three. That really upset him and he became more depressed, angry and confrontive. After a few years of that he calmed down, but was still in enough trouble to come and see me. He hoped that being in treatment could help him stay out of jail, which it did.
But now he is physically falling apart. His circulation is bad, especially in his legs, so he falls down. The last time he fell he broke his wrist, so he was put in this rehab center. One of his son's contacted me and told me where he was and wanted me to help get the son to be his guardian. That's why I went to visit.
Martin was very welcoming and happy to see me. He was taking a bit of medication, something he had resisted for years, and it was helping his stay calm and almost reasonable. He confided in me that he knew everyone was still watching him, but he was OK with that now. They were nice about it now, even if it was all a cover-up.
His wrist was in a cast. His knee was in a brace. He sat in front of a walker, and held on to that so he could sit-up. His roommate sat in a wheelchair. There were people in the hall attached to chairs by a thin cord that would set off an alarm if they tried to get up.
Martin looked to me to be about a hundred and three. It said in his chart that he is five years older than I am. That's why I am not starting with any new patients. I am finding that not working is a lot easier than working. I didn't feel that way, way back when I was sixty-two.
I got away. I couldn't stand the cold so I went somewhere warm. It was beautiful. Came back. It's cold again. "Why are we here?" asks the wife. Answer is becoming more difficult to articulate.
....Well, the grandchildren are here....
Now I am spending two and a half days seeming patients. I get out in the middle of Thursday and leave the office for the new, young guy. He reminds me of myself as his age: energetic and idealistic. He is only sixty-two.
But I didn't go home. I had to stop on the way at a rehabilitation center (nursing home) and do an evaluation of Martin. I first saw Martin around 1983. He was sent to me by his doctor, who hoped someone could help him. Martin was well known around town, especially by the police. He was angry and paranoid. He was colorful and expressive. His ideas of who was out to get him included not only the police, but the utility companies, and the air force. His delusions about the air force was based upon the planes flying over his house. This later morphed into being that the birds flying over his house had been trained to spy on him.
In those days that was considered crazy thinking. Now, of course, how many drones look exactly like birds?
Martin was once good looking and charming, when he was not ranting against the world and getting in fights. He fathered four boys with two different women. He wasn't the greatest father, as he would wander off for a couple of years at a time. Once in a while he would send each of the mothers a check. He meant well, but really couldn't maintain any consist work, relationships or even state of mind.
About ten years ago one of his boys died in of either a fight, an overdose or a fall. It was never quite clear, and was probably a bit of all three. That really upset him and he became more depressed, angry and confrontive. After a few years of that he calmed down, but was still in enough trouble to come and see me. He hoped that being in treatment could help him stay out of jail, which it did.
But now he is physically falling apart. His circulation is bad, especially in his legs, so he falls down. The last time he fell he broke his wrist, so he was put in this rehab center. One of his son's contacted me and told me where he was and wanted me to help get the son to be his guardian. That's why I went to visit.
Martin was very welcoming and happy to see me. He was taking a bit of medication, something he had resisted for years, and it was helping his stay calm and almost reasonable. He confided in me that he knew everyone was still watching him, but he was OK with that now. They were nice about it now, even if it was all a cover-up.
His wrist was in a cast. His knee was in a brace. He sat in front of a walker, and held on to that so he could sit-up. His roommate sat in a wheelchair. There were people in the hall attached to chairs by a thin cord that would set off an alarm if they tried to get up.
Martin looked to me to be about a hundred and three. It said in his chart that he is five years older than I am. That's why I am not starting with any new patients. I am finding that not working is a lot easier than working. I didn't feel that way, way back when I was sixty-two.
Thursday, May 02, 2013
Old White Man
For various reasons I had a sessions this week with two brothers and a sister. They were in their late forties and they compared their impressions about what it was like growing up in their family.
But now their father, who was a distant father but a very successful businessman, is eighty-eight. He has been a widower for a long time, and now he is home, by himself, and moves with great difficulty. His children, mostly his daughter, come to see him four or five times a week to bring him food and cook for him.
He is not very sociable, because is usually tired, and they often find him asleep in his chair.
His daughter explained that this is true because every night he sits up in the chair, facing the door, trying to stay awake. He holds a 35 caliber pistol on his lap and waits for "them" to come and try to take away his.........well, that's not quite clear.
One of his son's says that the gun doesn't have a bullet in the chamber and the old man doesn't have the strength in his hands to pull the lever and get his weapon ready. But it's the thought that counts.
But now their father, who was a distant father but a very successful businessman, is eighty-eight. He has been a widower for a long time, and now he is home, by himself, and moves with great difficulty. His children, mostly his daughter, come to see him four or five times a week to bring him food and cook for him.
He is not very sociable, because is usually tired, and they often find him asleep in his chair.
His daughter explained that this is true because every night he sits up in the chair, facing the door, trying to stay awake. He holds a 35 caliber pistol on his lap and waits for "them" to come and try to take away his.........well, that's not quite clear.
One of his son's says that the gun doesn't have a bullet in the chamber and the old man doesn't have the strength in his hands to pull the lever and get his weapon ready. But it's the thought that counts.
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