Update: July 11, 2014. Still no luck. I’ve been seeing a therapist in Montreal once a month instead. Having to go to Canada for healthcare (even as a Canadian) is annoying.
Vermont is a state where it is next to impossible to get in to see an Psychiatrist. And the quality of the ones that are available are at best 'iffy'. They either are retiring or have more issues of their own than you want to deal with.
I've been trying to get in to see one who is supposed to be excellent for more than 10 years. Let me say that again, 10 years. I saw a different doctor in his practice and six months into treatment he moved to Montpelier and left no solutions for his patients.
My last two have been hoarders. The first treated out of her house and you had to weave between stacks of musical crap and papers in order to get to the chair that had a towel on it (which was removed) because of her dogs. The dogs were always in the room during the sessions, with the door closed. Totally inappropriate. Eventually I just started calling her to get my drugs renewed.
Then at the end of 2009 there was an incident at work. What happened I can't go into, I was a bystander, but was supporting one of the parties because they needed it. I had to find a new psychiatrist and a therapist (something I've never had to do). I managed to in fairly quick order. But while the therapist was a professional and had a professional office and attitude, the pychiatrist was also a hoarder. Her office was piled high with crap. Boxes, papers, under the desk, on top of the desk, in the corners, on the cabinets.
The door wouldn't open all the way it was so bad. I was never comfortable there and hated sitting down to the point where I simply refused. This clearly pissed her off. I was pushed onto meds I didn't want to retry and paid the price (if my work during Sept/Oct/Nov) wasn't so linear, I'd have been fucked. She had accused me of 'self sabotage', something a bastard I worked with years ago had. I went back on the meds simply as rebellion. Oh, I paid the price. And I ended up catatonic for the week of Thanksgiving on the floor of the living room, not moving or waking for days. I had decided she was never going to be seen again when I restarted the meds.
I'm not new to being medicated. I've been on OCD related meds for more than 20 years. I know most of them better than the doctor does. I research them, I find papers that show experimental evidence of usefulness (how I found one I am currently taking that really helps). I read books on OCD drug treatment written by a former psychiatrist of mine when I lived in Toronto. I'm not an idiot. I'm always compliant. But if you refuse to treat me with respect when I say 'this isn't working' then we have a problem.
A few weeks ago my therapist I'd had for 18+ months essentially fired me. She said that she didn't think we were getting anywhere. Personally, I felt that having a weekly place to come and talk to an unbiased individual was the most helpful thing I had. She found another facility that would take me.
This has been a clusterfuck disaster since the start.
First, they said they couldn't take me. My therapist had to get back in touch with them to remind them that this was pre-arranged.
I was assigned to an Anxiety Disorder Clinic and assured I would be called within a few days for an appointment (issue 1). After a month I called intake back and got a call from the director of the facility with a few hours who said that they would have a psychiatrist and therapist get in touch.
The psychiatrist did, so I could get back onto the anti-depressent I was on before the 'experiments' started that wrecked last fall. Half way through the appt he told me he wasn't sure what was going on and why I (a complex case) had been assigned to him as he was retiring at the end of June. This was a mind blower. So I had a single prescription of an anti-depressent, and they take 5 weeks to take full effect. He'd be gone. They have no doctor currently committed to the facility (issue 2).
Today was supposed to be my first therapist visit at 1pm. The discussion about time took place on my speakerphone. My wife was in the room and 1pm was definitely the time mentioned. I was there 30 minutes early. I waited. Waited. At 2pm another patient came out and I asked the therapist where XXXX was. She said she was her and that I had been supposed to be there at 11. This was obviously not the case, and I would have not accepted that appointment (I had deadlines last night and as it was I got two hours of sleep). But you can't argue because there are no options in Vermont. You piss off someone and you are shit out of luck. I ate shit and I'm supposed to go back at 11pm next Friday (which I intend to cancel and reschedule). This was the third issue with this center. To to mention I've gone from seeing an accredited psychologist doctor to a social worker. Not happy about that.
I'm at my wits end for treatment. My GP refuses to prescribe anti-depresents, even though he'll continue to refill my other meds. He won't prescribe the SSRI anti-depressent I was on for 10 years! I just don't fathom this. He'd rather I was depressed and in pain than taking that initiative.
So, I have no choice. I continue to go to this anxiety clinic (make the front door cancer run, or back door garbage run to get in). But I have no confidence in this facility.
Yet, the options aren't there. Sigh.
I've written this more for me than anyone. I am frustrated and have work to do. Maybe writing this will shake the tree loose. Then again, maybe not. Maybe I should try and sleep. I'm working on 2 hours for crying out loud.
We need