Dr. Psychiatrist

I went to my first Dr. Psychiatrist appointment the other day. Oh! I just remembered this funny thing. The next time you spell out a word that contains the letter P, say, “That’s P, as in psychiatrist.” Hilarity will ensue. Continue…

When I walked into Dr. Psychiatrist’s office, the Front Office Lady (she of practically physically knocking me over with her request for insurance information) opened the glass window to her office and there, for all to hear, was country music playing. Country WHAT?!

psychiatrist_kate bush
What any adorable, small-minded liberal with mental health issues might expect to be playing.

Country music was so completely out of the realm of what I expected to hear in a psychiatrist’s office. I guess I just assumed that a psychiatrist would play something chill, generic, inoffensive, or — okay, if we’re being honest here — something from my OWN Volvo driving, Starbucks drinking, NY Times reading, NPR listening, sushi eating play list. If Dr. Psychiatrist was going to play a very particular type of music, I’d expect Kate Bush, not COUNTRY! Are you with me here?

But then I thought, “Okay, the quote-unquote music is playing in the Front Office Lady’s glassed headquarters. She can play whatever she wants in her own evil lair, even if it is incongruous with my expectations for Dr. Psychiatrist.”

Then I went into the waiting room, where the country music was ALSO blaring from the speakers. To be clear, it wasn’t some charming, old-timey, Cohen-Brothers-movie-soundtrack kind of country music. This was 90-point-something, Ashley/Amber/Tiffany (can’t remember which) calling from Barrington (for real) to say that she LOVES her Cat Country RADIO music.

So, I’m just sitting there, inadequately medicated, struggling with a resting heart rate of about 100 beats per minute, trying to sit as far away from the speakers as possible, searching for another place to wait where I can escape the awful, overly-earnest music, growing more and more agitated by the minute, when I saw it! A compendium of New Yorker cartoons sitting on the coffee table. Thank the good fucking liberal genius! New Yorker cartoons are what one EXPECTS to see in a psychiatrist’s office. I immersed myself in the book’s funny and tried my best to ignore the Sounds of Hell.

Let’s travel back…about twenty-five years…when I was in therapy as a young woman…my therapist fell asleep on me, not once, but twice. His excuse? That he was the father of a newborn baby and was exhausted. I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just testing my ability to advocate for myself, seeing if I would yell at him and tell him to wake the fuck up! (I failed both times; I just sat there.) ((Still traumatized by the whole thing and would likely do the exact same thing today.))

Is the country music some kind of Dr. Psychiatrist test or lesson, as in, if you can stay calm through this Chevy truck driving, Dunkin’ Donuts drinking, Wall Street Journal reading, Fox News watching, “American Fries” eating music, you can do anything? I dunno.

Waiting room.

What I do know is that I seriously need to manage my expectations of a psychiatrist’s demographics, which — after writing all of this — seem a lot more like STEREOTYPES. Let’s just hope that the free med samples he provided can calm me the fuck down, because the ONLY kind of music I hate is country AND western and if that shit is playing during my next appointment, I’m gonna wait in my Volvo.

FOOTNOTEY THINGY: “Country AND western” music is a reference to a line from “The Blues Brothers” and I typically wouldn’t cite it here, because, just like with Dr. Psychiatrist, I just ASSUME that we — me, the writer, and you, the reader of similar background, attracted to this blog —  all inherently GET “The Blues Brothers” reference, but — if you don’t — well, there it is, cited for legal as well as other purposes, and — also — you REALLY should see that movie.

The end!

14 thoughts on “Dr. Psychiatrist

  1. I can’t believe the c and w music.

    I can’t believe that man falling asleep. WHAT?

    Good idea: I’ll wait in my car; text me when it’s time to come in and then please turn your dial to 89.7 until I am securely positioned in Dr.’s office.

    1. I KNOW! Rob was also in a state of disbelief re: the C&W music. So. Weird.

      I remembered asking the sleeping therapist, a session or two AFTER the first sleeping incident, if it WAS a trick and he said no. But, I still don’t believe it.Also: So. Weird.

      I need a cell phone to implement your good idea! I just have FOL yell down from one of hte office windows.

    1. oh, that’s so funny. I’d heard the P as in pneumonia one, but never knew its origin. The k in knife is new to me. I love playing around with this whole bit. Must listen to the Nichols and May bit. Thanks for reading!

  2. Oh my head! sorry!!!! i am with you about the c+w ONLY music i can’t tolerate! they were playing it at the y outdoor pool this summer and i was like seriously aren’t you college kids…have you ever heard of rock and roll….you should really try it some time! if i hear it again i will complain…or pop is more encompassing even no???

  3. My piano teacher fell asleep every. single. class. I, thus, gave up piano lessons the first chance I had. Not cool, Mr. Piano Teacher. Not cool.

    1. What is wrong with these adults from our youth?! That’s horrible! I’m ridiculously curious to know what you did each time? Play louder? Just wait until s/he woke up?

      I told on my therapist to my dad. :)

  4. hahahhaha! young new englanders listening to county and western may spell the end of all things good.That really is SO wrong. You’re right: Pop, or classic rock or alternative…THOSE are the sounds of youth! I wonder if it’s the influence of that new, beefy lifeguard.

  5. I saw a big black truck this week with a sexy-lady silhouette sticker that had this text: “Dodge the Father, Ram the Daughter.” I followed the truck until it parked. (At Dick’s.) It was three beefy guys with toothpicks and their necks were red. No lie.

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