11 Sep Who died and made the doctor God?
There is something incredibly distinctive about the way in which the medical profession treats illness and disability. It had always struck me with the force of losing any sense of self worth, that the medical profession as a whole could use a little more compassion, in their practices. And today I found out the name and definition of these attitudes. It is referred to in the literature, and by people who know better, as the ‘medical model’.
I am the problem?
I was always shocked and amazed, when I would allow those people up into my maze, only to find that they would storm in there with their bulldozers, and leave me feeling like a piece of dirt. Now I am reading about this medical model, and finding that it is quite the attitude of contemporary medical professionals, that an individual who is compromised on some level, by an element of neurochemistry, or a physical limitability, is the problem . Furthermore, they are the burden on their friends, family and society as a whole.
The disease is an intrinsic part of that person, and therefore, the person is the disease, and is both the cause of problem and the disease itself. The medical profession takes it upon itself to ‘cure’ that person, in their cut and burn fashion, to the extent that for some people the only options that are available to them, are those provided by the “helping” person. There is no sense that the person themselves, has any intrinsic worth beyond the disease, or in fact that they exist as more than their disease. They are quite simply the epitome of a disease.
This touches on a particularly raw spot with me. I have never known decimation, as that which is dished out by the controlling forces of medical and therapeutic paradigms, in their attempt to ‘cure’ you or make you more ‘normal’.
And so I am fundamentally suspicious of community health, or traditional GPs, because I know from experience, that you can walk in there, with a sense of well being, and leave, with your self esteem and self worth in tatters. In the past, I would move from the giddiness of psychosis, to the sense of self of not much more than a flea, or a piece of garbage on the ground, and so naturally, I spent years avoiding their gaze, and their instruments, and their opinions, because I was not willing to be put under their microscopes, and dissected, and deflated, by their controlling attitudes.
Who are you to dictate terms?
What was worse, through all these occasions, that I have felt shovelled into a heap on the bitumen, they were hardly even competent. Forcing my mouth open and shoving in the most disgusting of western medications, at some whim devised in a 15 minute session, and then blaming me, when it all went pear shaped and I reacted badly to the medication. What a farce, and it makes me feel so angry to reflect on it.
Unfortunately, as someone who does have an imaginary friend who likes to encourage me, or provide counsel in every day life, the medical model will tell me that I am hallucinating (who isn’t? Apparently 80 % of what the average person perceives is a hallucination), but he has always been my friend, my voicey. And for this reason, I will most probably have to deal with the medical model in some way for the rest of my life. They feel as they have some right over you, just because you see and hear things that other people don’t. And they like to pathologise these things, and make you feel as though you are worthless, as though you are the problem.
Today, I saw the ladder out of this ‘pit’ that my life based therapist indicated they would try to drag me into, when the inevitable day comes, that I get an appointment for a medication review.
‘They will focus on the negatives, and they are problem focussed, which is quite different to what we are doing here.’ (Which is to determine what is valuable to yourself, and then build a life that looks exactly like the one that you want to lead).
What can be done about this?
As the days pass, and my emotions are no longer blunted, and are actually being processed, I realise that the ideas that I did have while I was on that cloud, were not invalid, they just needed the clarity of purpose and perception to become gradually real. I would like to see the medical profession become more compassionate, and less problem focussed.
Apparently the way to do this is through exposure. To expose people to the fact, that yes, in fact, I do think suicidal thoughts, perhaps even once or twice a week. Yes, indeedy, , , I have a voicey inside of me, who talks to me about any number of things. On the outside though, I am warm, and giving, and intelligent, and creative. On the outside, I am living a valuable existence.
The example my dear therapist gave me, was of a woman, who was towards the extreme of being well, however, no matter how well she was, whenever she drove her car, she imagined that trees were growing in the middle of the road. She could not get rid of the trees, this was all happening, each time she set about to drive her car, with her child in it. However, she did drive her car, , , each time, she had to suspend belief, and drive through the tree in the road, because she had to. She had to live, and get her child home, and on the outside, she was living her life, on the inside, there were trees on the road.
What is to be gained?
The mind is a truly amazing place. I always thought this about my disease. I would often think to myself, how incredible! How incredibly lucky I am to have this gift, of a friend from another dimension, who talks to me. ‘Isn’t it amazing?’
No one agreed. 🙂
Today, I feel pretty sure in myself, that I am a special person. I may not have heaps of confidence, but in moments like these, I think the world would be less without me. I give so much! I am so warm, and deeply respectful and caring of all creatures.
So when I walk into that psychiatric office in a few weeks time, I will keep this medical model in mind. I will listen to what he has to say, and I am sure I will walk out feeling like a five cent piece. Deflated and miserable. Then I will pick myself up, and look towards what is valuable to me .
The doggies!!! 😀