I had my requisite 6 month follow up with my
psychiatrist today. The official purpose of these appointments is to ensure
that I’m not going off the rails. In bipolar speak, that I’m staying in that
middle lane most of the time; not veering too far into the right lane or into
the left lane.
I am fortunate in that my psychiatrist has become
a close friend and confidant over the 8 years I have seen him. We meet over
coffee sometimes; or over a light lunch. He asks me how I have been, and I ask
the same of him.
Today we talked about how most people in Texas
are not originally from here. They have
relocated to Texas for employment typically, or to be in closer proximity to
family members who have done so. I found out today that this was the case with
Dr. K. He said that after medical school he had begun his residency in
Baltimore. Late one night while leaving John’s
Hopkins he was assaulted by 3 men. He
was mugged then beaten mercilessly. He told me that because of his injuries he
came to live with his family in North Texas to convalesce for 6 months.
My psychiatrist, my friend, is a gay man who
was born in Pakistan. He suspects that he was targeted that night in Baltimore
because he was gay, because he was of Middle Eastern descent, or perhaps a
combination of the two.
I told him that I was so sorry, so apologetic
and so very saddened that he had experienced this act of brutality and
violence. Dr. K. looked away as if slightly embarrassed that he had revealed
this intimate part of his history; of his narrative.
He changed the
subject, as if to deflect attention away from himself. Dr. K moved on to
another topic of conversation. We landed on a neutral subject: travel. He asked where I was going next, as he knew
this was one of my passions. I told him
I was going to spend 3 weeks in Greece toward the end of the year.
I asked him where he liked to travel and about his plans to do so. He said that his partner had become frustrated that they never traveled abroad. When I asked Dr. K. why this was the case he answered, “In spite of what happened to me in Baltimore, I can't fathom ever wanting to leave the U.S. To me, this is Heaven."
I asked him where he liked to travel and about his plans to do so. He said that his partner had become frustrated that they never traveled abroad. When I asked Dr. K. why this was the case he answered, “In spite of what happened to me in Baltimore, I can't fathom ever wanting to leave the U.S. To me, this is Heaven."
