Monday, June 25, 2007

Three men in a doctor's office

Can he see me today?

Yes, Mark, but it will be a little while.

Ok, he says with voice cracking. I’ll just sit down I guess.

***

Hey, you ok? says the man already waiting

Jussst real d-down, depressed.

I know what you mean. I’ve been depressed for seven years.

24 years for me.

I’m on Clanapin, Paxil--anti-depressants—Lithium for the mania and one other.

Really? Does it work?

Yeah, especially the Clanapin and Paxil together.

I’m going to tell my doc to put me on those two. I-I just don’t like the side-effects. They make me tired and I get limp dick.

Yeah, they all give me limp dick, goes with the territory.

***

How much longer is the doctor going to be?

Quite awhile; he’s booked.

Well, I gotta go now so I will come back. He gets up and goes out the door, passing Mark in silence.

***

Mark begins to tremble. He fumbles with his hat, looking straight down at the floor. He convulses slightly while groaning.

He gets up, hunched over, approaching the desk. It seems he may crumple into a ball and disappear.

Mark, are you ok? Do you want to come back in a room?

He begins weeping, his shoulders heaving.

The door opens and he’s gone.

***

I finally open up the book I brought along and try to begin Rosaldo’s “Grief and a Headhunter’s Rage”:

“If you ask an older Ilongot man of northern Luzon, Philippines, why he cuts off the human heads, his answer is brief, and one on which no anthropologist can readily elaborate: He says that rage, born of grief, impels him to kill his fellow human beings.”

6 comments:

shane said...

Wow. Great last sentence. What's this from? Did you write this?

Counterintuitive said...

Some creative license but it's basically what occured while I was waiting in the GP's office for a check up. It stunned me.

Dr. Write said...

I guess if our options are head hunting or Paxil, I'll chose Paxil. But that doesn't seem like much of an option.
Makes me glad I'm not truly depressed, but only sometimes sad.

spontaneous expressions said...

...and I thought I was depressed. (at least I don't have to worry about limp dick). There's always someone worse off. Does this give me comfort? or do I delight in shadenfreude?

great post Ron. It made me want to know what happened next. (did he go on a murderous head hunting rampage born of grief?, knocking over the water cooler? renting his clothing?)

HH said...

Quite the "waiting for Gedot" moment there. Here is a man in pain and waiting for someone to help dimish the pain. Is the cure worse than the illness? Unfortunatly the medical cure is a temporary one. The man was looking for someone to cure his emotional pain. Perhaps the interaction with another "ill" person was enough to provide a temporary respite from his pain. A small bit of empathy to stultify the ongoing emptiness that depression harbors within its victims.

Give me paxil, just don't take my head. And, I won't take yours. interesting visual you generated there Ron.

Trav

Anonymous said...

It's spelled Klonopin.