I’ve been thinking a lot about that deFOO cult today.

Families are terrible. I say this as someone with a really great family who have always gone above and beyond to help me and whom I love a lot. I thought families were generally great until I went into psychiatry. But there are so many people screwed up in every way by their family that I’m starting to think I’m just a weird outlier.

I remember a case where I got a call from a distressed father. He wanted to know if he could have his son committed to the psychiatric hospital, because the son was constantly trying to beat and assault and murder people, including the father and other family members. The only problem was that as far as we could tell, this didn’t have anything to do with psychiatric illness. He was just a murderous kind of guy.

The boss said we wouldn’t take him, and told me to call the father back and advise him to press charges and have the son sent to prison. I felt kind of dumped on, because this was going to be an absolutely miserable phone call. Tell a father to have his son sent to prison? I prepared myself to get either yelled at, cried at, or both.

Actually, he was super-receptive and thanked me for excellent advice that he had apparently never thought of before. Press charges against someone just because they tried to murder you? You can DO that? I guess he had just internalized that this wasn’t the way the father-son relationship worked, and resigned himself to probably getting murdered one of these days.

One of the really common AskReddit thread topics is “If you could send one short message to everyone in the world that they had to read, what would it be?” And usually I think of kind of joke answers like “DON’T TRUST SOCIAL SCIENCE HYPOTHESES WITHOUT CHECKING IF THERE IS A TWIN STUDY THAT CONTRADICTS THEM FIRST”, but maybe my real answer, if I were ever in this situation, would be something like “CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOUR FAMILY MEMBERS ARE HORRIBLE, AND IF THEY ARE, TAKE THE SAME SORT OF ACTION THAT YOU WOULD AGAINST A HORRIBLE PERSON WHO IS NOT YOUR FAMILY MEMBER.”

Safety contracts are a tool in psychiatry where you get patients to formally promise to take certain actions if they start feeling suicidal. The research doesn’t really support them, but they’re pretty common anyway.

I just learned that my boss writes really formal safety contracts in Olde English and seals them by making his patients swear a formal oath with their hand on a copy of the DSM-V.

A psychiatrist I work with recently learned through the obituaries that one of her former patients had died. She was upset, both because it’s always sad when someone you know dies, and because she didn’t know what he died of and hoped that it wasn’t because of anything she did or didn’t do (he was really young, like 45, so something must have gone wrong, and he was on a lot of medications, and all medications have potential side effects).

I suggested she look at his medical chart, since whatever killed him probably landed him in the hospital first, and since as his doctor it is 100% her right to view his chart (much of which she has written herself).

She said she’d asked about this, and the hospital lawyer had said she should not look in his chart, since our electronic chart system logs whenever anyone looks in somebody’s chart, and if his family sued over his death then looking in his chart might hurt the hospital’s case. The exact argument would be something like “This doctor was obviously curious about what killed Mr. A, which could have been because she wanted to know if it was her fault, which means it was something she considered a strong possibility.”

I guess this might be something a lawyer could argue. But we’re a teaching hospital. The whole point of our being at this hospital is to learn how to treat patients well. If we’re not even allowed to check whether something killed a patient or not, that makes it kind of hard to get any feedback and learn not to do patient-killing things.

If you come to a psych ER saying “Help, I have no money and no friends and I want to die,” the first time we will just hear the “I want to die” part and admit you for depression + suicidal ideation. We will give you some antidepressants, one to two group therapy sessions, and if you are lucky also a piece of paper with the names and phone numbers of helpful social services.

If you come back a month later saying “Help, I still have no money and no friends and want to die,” we will look at each other awkwardly, then admit you for “treatment-resistant depression,” because we feel bad and we don’t want to just do nothing. We will switch your antidepressant to a different antidepressant. We can also give you another sheet of social service phone numbers again, but it will just have the same ones as last time.

If you come back a third time a month or two after that saying “Help, I still have no money and no friends and want to die,” we will politely inform you that the psychiatric hospital might not be the right place for you, and wish you luck finding other means of support. If you ask us where else you can go, we will tell you that we are very busy and we have lots of other patients to see, and maybe give you the same list of social service phone numbers again.

I wish there was a social services ER that I could transfer people to.

It’s only 12:00 on my call night, and I am already just one more depressed person’s life story away from becoming one of those supervillains whose origin story is that there is so much suffering and evil in humanity that it would be better off destroyed.

I have to give a short presentation on some episode from the history of psychiatry next month, topic is my choice. Any of you know any really weird, really interesting history-of-psychiatry episodes?

(right now the best I can think of all the psychedelic psychiatry experiments of the 60s, especially if I can work in the part where John Lilly’s assistant had sex with dolphins for important science-related reasons)

Life lessons from my patients: If you get pulled over by the police, and you have a bunch of drugs in your car, swallowing all the drugs at once so that the police can’t find them isn’t as clever a solution as it might seem.

Seen on an alcoholic patient’s chart: “Patient says he is tired of being tired of drinking.”

Me: Hi, I’m the psychiatrist here.

Patient: Why…they….send….psychiatrist?

Me: I think your doctor was worried you might be depressed.

Patient: Not…depressed…why…think…that?

Me: According to your chart, since your medical problems started last year, you’ve become paralyzed in both arms and both legs, have to eat through a tube, can barely speak, and all you can do is lie in bed and watch TV all day.

Patient: Yes…but…I…love…lying…in…bed…watching…TV…all…day.

Tonight an Armenian man was admitted to the psychiatric hospital on an emergency basis with some kind of really serious psychotic break, but we couldn’t figure out what was going on with him because he didn’t speak English.

So we called the hospital administration for an Armenian translator, which is apparently complicated at the best of times but practically impossible on Christmas Eve. Finally somebody agreed to come in from far away, but he seemed pretty confused and angry by the whole thing and didn’t actually speak English that well. My boss tried to explain the situation to him, but he wasn’t interested and might not have even really understood. He just demanded “Take me to man, I will translate.” So we did.

So the translator goes into the patient’s room, and the patient gets really excited and starts talking in Armenian in this very animated way. The translator gets more and more upset, and finally he takes my boss into the corridor outside the room and shouts,

“THIS MAN IS A FUCKING LUNATIC!”