Shipton
Hail all,
and thanks again for the feedback there. And I'm trying to think of something even mildly interesting to say about the last week. I sincerely advise anyone looking for anything written with clarity, humour and insight to read Foilwoman's blog. Stop what you're doing and do it now.
Not that stuff hasn't happened in my life - I quit my Hogarth House job, for instance, and may soon begin work for the Slytherin-Mordor Area Community Council to Help Eradicate Addictive Drugs. But if I wrote about that this'd just be another "My manager sucks" post on the internet... although, by God, this one was pretty sucky.
In the interim I went down to Shipton today, to see my psychiatrist. He is a decent bloke, possibly given to excessive classifications ("as you know, there are four separate grades of mania..."). He comes from India, where psychiatric conditions can become much more severe before they are treated, so he has seen, for example, all four stages (apparently called euphoria, elation, exaltation and ecstasy) of mania. Euphoria is hypomania, a relatively noticable good (or irritable) mood, but still a just a mood. Elation is classical mania, exaltation is severe mania and ecstasy is almost a catatonic state of bliss. His consultant once treated a woman with Grade IV mania (ecstasy), who had been standing in the corner of her room for two weeks, not eating, barely drinking, communing with the Divine, her face a mask of delirious rapture.
"Professor Arjuna worked on her for weeks: ECT (electro-convulsive therapy), lithium... eventually made her better, bought her out of her state. And you know what?" said Dr Pala, "...she never stopped hating him."
He shakes his head and draws another diagram, this time of the midbrain, and proceeds to explain how reboxetine works.
He does this because I have gone to see him and we both agree I am well. I've been pretty well for quite a while now, a few mild to moderate lows, the odd ebullient mood, but really nothing that anyone could point at and say "crazy". But changing jobs is a pretty strong stressor, and I wanted to know if I should increase any of my medications just in case - I am determined not to get sick in the next few months. He asked if I had any symptoms of depression (BPAD, Bipolar Affective Disorder) and we worked out that I had most of the symptoms of the closely related condition MPOD (Manager-induced Pissed Off Disorder), but nothing that could really be attributed to mental illness, so we'd just tweak a dose and review in a fortnight.
While I've been away, two or so years, Shipton psych has had an "upgrade": swipe cards at all the doors, a new security screen, that kind of thing. I saw a documentary on the police forces once, how they've evolved from solitary village bobbies trundling along the beat to a paramilitary force with IR goggles, machine guns, that kind of stuff. It said that the police should be considered the fourth arm of the armed forces - army, navy, airforce, police. Well, you could look at some of these places and you'd think we were the fifth.
Anyway, today is my day off before I work night shift tonight. Not only is it Saturday night in Mordor Slytherin, but it is the Saturday night of the Big Football Game, and Jack Daniels is going cheap down at the local. So, should be good.
Now I must go and drop off my niece at some social function, see you all soon, should be able to write something later today.
Thanks for listening,
John
and thanks again for the feedback there. And I'm trying to think of something even mildly interesting to say about the last week. I sincerely advise anyone looking for anything written with clarity, humour and insight to read Foilwoman's blog. Stop what you're doing and do it now.
Not that stuff hasn't happened in my life - I quit my Hogarth House job, for instance, and may soon begin work for the Slytherin-Mordor Area Community Council to Help Eradicate Addictive Drugs. But if I wrote about that this'd just be another "My manager sucks" post on the internet... although, by God, this one was pretty sucky.
In the interim I went down to Shipton today, to see my psychiatrist. He is a decent bloke, possibly given to excessive classifications ("as you know, there are four separate grades of mania..."). He comes from India, where psychiatric conditions can become much more severe before they are treated, so he has seen, for example, all four stages (apparently called euphoria, elation, exaltation and ecstasy) of mania. Euphoria is hypomania, a relatively noticable good (or irritable) mood, but still a just a mood. Elation is classical mania, exaltation is severe mania and ecstasy is almost a catatonic state of bliss. His consultant once treated a woman with Grade IV mania (ecstasy), who had been standing in the corner of her room for two weeks, not eating, barely drinking, communing with the Divine, her face a mask of delirious rapture.
"Professor Arjuna worked on her for weeks: ECT (electro-convulsive therapy), lithium... eventually made her better, bought her out of her state. And you know what?" said Dr Pala, "...she never stopped hating him."
He shakes his head and draws another diagram, this time of the midbrain, and proceeds to explain how reboxetine works.
He does this because I have gone to see him and we both agree I am well. I've been pretty well for quite a while now, a few mild to moderate lows, the odd ebullient mood, but really nothing that anyone could point at and say "crazy". But changing jobs is a pretty strong stressor, and I wanted to know if I should increase any of my medications just in case - I am determined not to get sick in the next few months. He asked if I had any symptoms of depression (BPAD, Bipolar Affective Disorder) and we worked out that I had most of the symptoms of the closely related condition MPOD (Manager-induced Pissed Off Disorder), but nothing that could really be attributed to mental illness, so we'd just tweak a dose and review in a fortnight.
While I've been away, two or so years, Shipton psych has had an "upgrade": swipe cards at all the doors, a new security screen, that kind of thing. I saw a documentary on the police forces once, how they've evolved from solitary village bobbies trundling along the beat to a paramilitary force with IR goggles, machine guns, that kind of stuff. It said that the police should be considered the fourth arm of the armed forces - army, navy, airforce, police. Well, you could look at some of these places and you'd think we were the fifth.
Anyway, today is my day off before I work night shift tonight. Not only is it Saturday night in Mordor Slytherin, but it is the Saturday night of the Big Football Game, and Jack Daniels is going cheap down at the local. So, should be good.
Now I must go and drop off my niece at some social function, see you all soon, should be able to write something later today.
Thanks for listening,
John
posted by Bronze John at 5:51 PM
1 Comments:
Well, of course I love you too, sweetheart (in a completely platonic way, of course; and you can be sure that this statement is absolutely true because for all I know you are a use-plumbing supplies salesman who looks like Jabba the Hutt or an Orc). And thank you for the compliment. Never doubt the benefits of ADHD (it's really not a disability) when trying to expectorate some good and entertaining prose, hmmm? I bet bipolar "disorder" (a/k/a manic depression) works pretty much the same way. Really, we're just identical twins (see "The Last Remake of Beau Geste" with Michael York and Marty Feldman for the reference): I'm just a bit more identical than you are.
Big smooch. And you win the hero of the day for tolerating the blanket of kittens. That's just sweet. In a machismo dripping way, of course.
Post a Comment
<< Home