Tele-visits From the Psychiatrist

Telephone consultations with the doctor are the norm in health care. Meaning, instead of calling his or her office to schedule a day when you can see them, you call and schedule an appointment to have them call you back. How rude! And those girls recruited to answer the phones and take messages are straight clowns. But the writing is on the wall.

So, the doctor’s office, the instruments of their profession and the doctor herself with the sole exception of her voice will be abridged from typical health care not administered by a specialist. Assessments, advice and prescriptions can be had by smartphones now. We only need to show up for our annual physical exams. Other than that, the word from the busy doctor is ‘don’t call us - we’ll call you.’ Mental health providers have gotten in on the act too.

Of course, when any kind of technology replaces tradition, those interests positioned to benefit from the new arrangement insists they’re empowering the consumer by making things ‘easier,’ ‘seamless,’ and much more ‘convenient’.’ I’d be a recluse living in the Hamptons by now if I earned a penny every time I heard that poor excuse for some sort of consolation.

Either way, I’d like to share as briefly as possible my experience with telehealth care from my psychiatrist. Now, she’s a cool lady; well-intentioned, organized, caring, attentive and appealing. But when she first mentioned having our sessions by phone instead of in-person, she hinted that neither she nor I had a choice in the matter. The higher-ups were doing things a new way. All her other patients had gotten onboard. So, I might as well not be the rebellious one. It would certainly make me stand out. That might degenerate into an involuntary stint at some hospital where abusive staff could violate my rights strictly by telephone; just to get the point across. Not that my psychiatrist herself would have that done to me, but again she was virtually powerless against this emerging trend in health care.

So, we met strictly by telephone for two years. Sometimes the video image would break up. Sometimes the voice and audio connection got lost. There were all types of problems. She always had to call me back or tell me to call her back. But what struck me most was the impersonal nature of our strictly timed and deliberately paced fifteen minute sessions. Everything had to be strictly business. She needed to confirm my pharmacy information, order my prescription, question my compliance, review my goals, type everything in the computer, etc. It all made me feel like I had better not talk too much so as to not disrupt the business of receiving ‘care.’

I was reduced to either reticence or mechanical ‘yes’ and ‘no’ answers. Our relationship became an algorithm complying with the operating system hosting our sessions. Those of you with any coding credentials may spot incongruous elements in that statement. But let’s not nitpick. You know what I’m trying to say. Let me spell it out: as far as I’m concerned, tele-visits are for the birds! City pigeons to be precise.

But who am I to vent? I’m sure there’s millions of bozos who get off on prank healthcare. I’m just not one of them. So many people are mesmerized by ‘advancing technology’ at the expense of common sense. I mean, why the hell would I not want to keep seeing my long-time doctor in person? It reassures me she’s invested in my head-to-toe appearance and actively interpreting the way I carry myself. In that way, she’s involved in the process of bringing any suppressed emotions or memories to the conscious level by talking with me at length to exorcise my demons. I like exorcisms. A little holy water, some vomiting in her face - what’s the problem?

I’m telling you brother. This appetite for ‘convenience’ has gone too far. Soon some up-start and his venture partners are going to come up with Drive-Thru psychiatry. But I digress. In the long run, something happened - I don’t remember what - but I’m back to seeing my shrink in person now. We’re both happy. To be honest about it, if she wasn’t my mother’s age, strictly professional and happily married for god knows how long, I’d put the moves on her. I’m sure she’d find that thoughtful. She’d probably log it in her computer nonchalantly and adjust my treatment plan. But the guaranteed comedy is worth giving it a test run. What do you think?

At any rate, at the end of the day, it’s entirely up to the consumer whether or not you will meet with your provider by phone or in person. I encourage you to go with what works best for you, not what’s ‘convenient’ for the system. You are the consumer. Your provider exists to meet your needs. State your honest opinion about how you’d like to be served so there can be no questions about any aspect of your care. And for god’s sake, have some class! I’d estimate that ninety percent of mental health consumers are simply lackadaisical about their appearance, hygiene, mannerisms, and stratagems for meeting their own emotional and intellectual needs. There is a certain simple mindedness involved that can be cute at first. But once you’re involved in the mental health care system, it is incumbent upon you to do away with the persistent negligence. That is half the battle, and appropriate diligence will empower these souls to attend to things in their lives that cannot remedied by any professional, whether the old-fashioned way or by telephone. Just my thoughts.

If however, you would like to talk to a professional by phone you can call teh Mental health Hotline at 866-903-3787. Or if you feel like a danger to yourself, you can call 988 for help right away.