The song of the sad

Suitcases and the story of those who lived for long years in asylums.

As a doctor, I recognize that despite the "normal" slant of the stories, that there was probably a bit of psychosis (It is in fashion to say oh there is no mental illness, but only one who has worked with deeply disturbed people--or their family members who suffer along with the person-- can appreciate the depth of an illness that looks "normal" to the casual observer...)

One reason I suspect psychosis or schizophrenia is that so many were immigrants, and the stress of a new country without support groups, will exacerbate psychotic illnesses, especially simple schizophrenia, bipolar illness, and depressive psychosis.

But anyway, being old enough to remember when thorazine was a Godsend and the hospitals started to empty, to group homes, to relatives, sometimes to jails, and sometimes, with newer medications, to normality.

But these people are still with us. They are God's "little ones".

To an observer, they are pitiful. But to a society that sees an unproductive life.

And all we docs could do in the past was try to help them by hospitalizing them in a structured environement, where a strict schedule relieved the anxiety of change and where they were kept clean and housed. Nowadays, we try to get them in a group home or help their families to cope, and adjust their medications.

But from a religious standpoint, they are sometimes very holy (I'm not speaking of religious delusions which are strange, but the ordinary reliance of God to get thru the day and cope with their fears).

So when I hear "the first shall be last and the last first", I always think of my schizophrenics, and my retarded patients, and figure that they'll put in a good word for me when I go to the big hospital in the sky.


(Headup from Impactedwisdomtoothblog)