Team from the front page (time machine in socialism)
At noon today. The waiting room as full as the morning at a blood donor session. Half the population in this country needs psychiatry, you think. And most of it seems to go to the same doctor as you. Old, young, all sorts. Whimpering broken women in cheap clothes, probably some kind of workers. Drunks with multiple purple veins, older men with confused eyes and shaky hands. Neurotic young men twitch, many plainly in trouble with narcotics. Quiet and very very peaceful men with the eyes of murderers. Autistic girls with black makeup. The team from the front page, if hell was publishing its own papers. Still, things quickly clear as people work behind three or four doors. As you hear the typewriter that someone is rapping inside, in ten minutes you know that it will soon be your turn. Slightly surreal, as if it was thirty years ago, a picture of a forgotten world.
Finally we get to my wife and me. The surgery is actually quite a small office, but fortunately there is an enormous window with a view of greenery. And there he was: doctor Competent! Youngish bloke. Somewhat young, slightly punkish behaviour. Straight away he appeals to me. He has young eyes, smiling, yet he speaks very seriously. And he listens seriously. Only his eyes smile as if he wants you to be a little at ease. He hears how I threw up, had diarrhoea and slept few hours in the five days since I started asking for somebody to begin to treat me. Both my wife and I are suffering physically from my need for treatment. He interrogates me about everything, in some detail, and then interrogates my wife longer, and listens apparently looking at the file. Apart from that, I weakly also say what I can. He continues rather longer, stops me obsessing about another panic attack. Finally he folds the paper and types energetically on an ancient machine. He cancels my medicine. He does not like the established diagnosis But I want a diagnosis! He is insistent, he needs to carry out more investigations and psychological tests. It is somewhat unclear to him and he does not want to gamble. He tries to calm me that he knows and is skilled, and I feel relieved that I don’t have to take the drugs any more. We are longer than others in the nearby treatment cubicles and it becomes embarrassing to me because of all those other people who are waiting. But no, no! The first time you are here, we have to do the job properly, he says seriously under smiling eyes. He charmed me, almost. I think that it is called transfer, or something like that. He bought me quickly, except I secretly hoped that some sexy blonde in the prime of life would arrive with husky voice and sleepy eyes.
23.03.2008. (23:18)
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cuj daj mi objasni...zasto stalno pises da hoces u ludaru? jel to neka tvoja brija kak napisat blog pa fino to prodat il si stvarno ustanove te zeljan? ja sam jedna od onih optimista u zivotu..a tebi je vjerojatno zlo od toga
19.10.2008. (00:28)
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@mala crna: ne, nije brija kak napisat blog, bilo je to liječenje blogom, pomagalo mi je što ga pišem. U vrijeme kad se stvar događala (nije fikcija, stvarno je koliko se može objektivan bit u tako subjektivnom poremećaju u glavi, pisano s par mjeseci zakašnjenja) nisam baš razmišljao što želim ili ne želim - htio sam samo da mi se pomogne. Možeš to usporediti s bilo kojom jačom bolešću. Znaš da bi ti operacija pomogla i želiš u bolnicu na operaciju, ali se istovremeno bojiš operacije i ne želiš tamo. Uglavnom, stvar je već tako visoke tenzije da optimizam i pesimizam ili bilo kakvi pogledi na svijet više ne igraju nikakvu ulogu...
20.11.2008. (00:21)
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Društvo mrtvih pjesnika
Meni rekoše da sam se zarazila...tzv. psiho-infekt...u šifrarniku nema ništa. Odoh ja maznut svoju pućicu hahaha, pa na ne-spavanje:
20.11.2008. (01:46)
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Reader
Team from the front page (time machine in socialism)
At noon today. The waiting room as full as the morning at a blood donor session. Half the population in this country needs psychiatry, you think. And most of it seems to go to the same doctor as you. Old, young, all sorts. Whimpering broken women in cheap clothes, probably some kind of workers. Drunks with multiple purple veins, older men with confused eyes and shaky hands. Neurotic young men twitch, many plainly in trouble with narcotics. Quiet and very very peaceful men with the eyes of murderers. Autistic girls with black makeup. The team from the front page, if hell was publishing its own papers.
Still, things quickly clear as people work behind three or four doors. As you hear the typewriter that someone is rapping inside, in ten minutes you know that it will soon be your turn. Slightly surreal, as if it was thirty years ago, a picture of a forgotten world.
Finally we get to my wife and me. The surgery is actually quite a small office, but fortunately there is an enormous window with a view of greenery.
And there he was: doctor Competent!
Youngish bloke. Somewhat young, slightly punkish behaviour. Straight away he appeals to me. He has young eyes, smiling, yet he speaks very seriously. And he listens seriously. Only his eyes smile as if he wants you to be a little at ease.
He hears how I threw up, had diarrhoea and slept few hours in the five days since I started asking for somebody to begin to treat me. Both my wife and I are suffering physically from my need for treatment. He interrogates me about everything, in some detail, and then interrogates my wife longer, and listens apparently looking at the file. Apart from that, I weakly also say what I can. He continues rather longer, stops me obsessing about another panic attack. Finally he folds the paper and types energetically on an ancient machine.
He cancels my medicine. He does not like the established diagnosis
But I want a diagnosis!
He is insistent, he needs to carry out more investigations and psychological tests. It is somewhat unclear to him and he does not want to gamble. He tries to calm me that he knows and is skilled, and I feel relieved that I don’t have to take the drugs any more.
We are longer than others in the nearby treatment cubicles and it becomes embarrassing to me because of all those other people who are waiting.
But no, no! The first time you are here, we have to do the job properly, he says seriously under smiling eyes.
He charmed me, almost. I think that it is called transfer, or something like that.
He bought me quickly, except I secretly hoped that some sexy blonde in the prime of life would arrive with husky voice and sleepy eyes.
23.03.2008. (23:18) - - - - - promjene spremljene- uredi komentar - obriši komentar - prijavi ovaj komentar kao spam - zabrani komentiranje autoru ovog komentara- učitavam...
traženje sebe
cuj daj mi objasni...zasto stalno pises da hoces u ludaru? jel to neka tvoja brija kak napisat blog pa fino to prodat il si stvarno ustanove te zeljan?
ja sam jedna od onih optimista u zivotu..a tebi je vjerojatno zlo od toga
19.10.2008. (00:28) - - - - - promjene spremljene- uredi komentar - obriši komentar - prijavi ovaj komentar kao spam - zabrani komentiranje autoru ovog komentara- učitavam...
ludlud
@mala crna: ne, nije brija kak napisat blog, bilo je to liječenje blogom, pomagalo mi je što ga pišem. U vrijeme kad se stvar događala (nije fikcija, stvarno je koliko se može objektivan bit u tako subjektivnom poremećaju u glavi, pisano s par mjeseci zakašnjenja) nisam baš razmišljao što želim ili ne želim - htio sam samo da mi se pomogne. Možeš to usporediti s bilo kojom jačom bolešću. Znaš da bi ti operacija pomogla i želiš u bolnicu na operaciju, ali se istovremeno bojiš operacije i ne želiš tamo. Uglavnom, stvar je već tako visoke tenzije da optimizam i pesimizam ili bilo kakvi pogledi na svijet više ne igraju nikakvu ulogu...
20.11.2008. (00:21) - - - - - promjene spremljene- uredi komentar - obriši komentar - prijavi ovaj komentar kao spam - zabrani komentiranje autoru ovog komentara- učitavam...
Društvo mrtvih pjesnika
Meni rekoše da sam se zarazila...tzv. psiho-infekt...u šifrarniku nema ništa. Odoh ja maznut svoju pućicu hahaha, pa na ne-spavanje:
20.11.2008. (01:46) - - - - - promjene spremljene- uredi komentar - obriši komentar - prijavi ovaj komentar kao spam - zabrani komentiranje autoru ovog komentara- učitavam...
Maximillian
Of course, the writer is completely fair. here
13.06.2012. (12:23) - - - - - promjene spremljene- uredi komentar - obriši komentar - prijavi ovaj komentar kao spam - zabrani komentiranje autoru ovog komentara- učitavam...