Going In: Part Three – A New (Asexual) Crush

After almost being admitted “accidentally” to ICU, then being holed up in an interview room for two hours, you may expect this third post about my admission into hospital on Saturday to also be rather grim. However, I hope you will share my joy when I tell you (tongue in cheek) that there is a new love in my life.

Admission into a private psychiatric ward in Australia comprises three separate administrative stages: the one where you prove your health fund is going to foot the bill, and pay any extras or deposits the hospital requires; the one where a nurse gathers lots of data and assess both your safety risk factor and your risk of absconding; and the ‘formal admission’ by a psychiatrist.

My usual admitting psychiatrist was away all weekend so I was admitted by a fill in. None of the nurses knew who he was. As always, what I write in this blog is truthful and preserves anonymity, so I will refer to this doctor as “W” (which is neither his first nor last initial). 

I had very low expectations of W and what the experience would be like. I have a long psychiatric history and had no idea how much of a history he would want. There was also the confounding factor that I had almost wound up in ICU, and I did not know how he would react to that. 

W is wonderful. He makes you feel as though he has all the time in the world to spend listening to you (though this is probably not the case). He allowed for the fact that I am an intelligent, resourceful woman who can tell my own story coherently and with insight. While not assuming that I was a specialist, he did not condescend to me when asking about my health. He consulted me about decisions which had to be made, e.g. whether my medication regime should be changed again (NO, thank you!) and how long my “no leave” period should be. He came back the next day to check in and see how things are going.

Many of the nurses were very curious about W after he left, because they had not seen him before. I can’t say too  much about those conversations here because that could compromise confidentiality, but I will say that to those whom I knew would also laugh, I declared: “I have a new doctor crush!”

My usual psychiatrist is back today. He, too, does not condescend to me, is a straight talker, listens, and is consultative (perhaps a little less than W, but then, no-one’s perfect). 

I may never see W again, but for as long as I remember this admission, I will remember the tremendous gratitude I feel towards him.

May we all be blessed with Ws in our lives this week!

2 Comments

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2 responses to “Going In: Part Three – A New (Asexual) Crush

  1. A few weeks ago I was admitted for a fairly minor operation (non-malignant. Yayy!).

    One of the pre-op ward nurses was one of those amazing guys who just breezes through the ward attending to quick jobs and dropping a light joke or trivial anecdote to each of the patients – all of whom he addresses by name without referring to notes (no name boards over the beds either). Sometimes he’d stop for some brief banter with a patient who seemed particularly anxious or glum and he always seemed to lift their mood.

    If there’s any human cloning experiments underway, he should volunteer.
    All hospitals need a couple of dozen of that guy.
    Especially psyche hospitals.

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    • Too right. Rare as hen’s teeth, and worth their weight in gold, and any other cliche which could be thrown their way.
      Congratulations on your double good fortune – non-malignancy and a wondernurse!

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