Cool Steve Deals With A Psychiatrist
by Jeffrey Rubin, PhD
Dr. Jeffrey Rubin
Welcome to From Insults to Respect. Today, I ask readers to consider a story that raises some questions regarding the practice of psychiatry.
The Story
Cool Steve and three of his fellow high school buddies, Jeff, George, and Cliff, have come to the Coney Island Child Psychiatric Center because Steve’s eight-year old brother, Pete, has been dealing with some serious emotional problems. When Pete was first brought to the center, Doctor Goldwin had prescribed Thorazine, to treat Pete. Upon doing some research about the drug, the boys learned it has some serious, and even life threatening side effects. The boys have now come to the center to discuss this with Dr. Goodwin, and while waiting to see him, another psychiatrist, Dr. William Kolanski, comes by. Here’s how Jeff tells what transpires.
“Excuse me, Dr. Kolanski,” I call out just as he’s shutting his office door behind him.
Dr. Kolanski reopens his door. “Can I help you boys?”
“We’d like to ask you some questions about Thorazine,” says Cliff. “We have some questions about the safety of Thorazine.”
Dr. Kolanski’s forehead crinkles. “Oh, I see,” he says. “I’m afraid I too have some questions about its safety. I’ve seen, personally, a couple of tragedies that have befallen patients who had been placed on Thorazine and related drugs. One just occurred last night.”
As he is speaking, we notice Dr. Goldwin opening his office door and as he begins to listen to Dr. Kolanski, his face begins to turn brick red and suddenly he begins to shout at Dr. Kolanski, “Doctor! Please step into my office!”
Dr. Kolanski gets up and walks into Dr. Goldwin’s office.
“Hurry, Jeff,” whispers George. “You’re the actor. Go over by the secretary and as you’re walking by her, create a commotion. Get her into the hallway with you so she can’t see us. The rest of us will listen at Dr. Goldwin’s door and hear what’s going on.”
“Wait a minute,” whispers Cliff. “If they catch us listening, we’ll be the ones they’ll be injecting with Thorazine.”
I look at Steve who is bending over with his ear close to Cliff’s mouth. He straightens up, turns his back to the secretary so his voice won’t project toward her. I glance over and see the secretary is hard at work typing. She has blond hair, obviously bleached.
“Cliff, you’re free to leave,” whispers Steve.
“If you guys are staying, I’m staying,” whispers Cliff. “But we’re nuts!”
Then Steve turns to me. “Go ahead, Jeff,” he whispers. “Do what George said. Hurry.”
What kind of commotion can I make? I think to myself as I head toward the secretary. As I walk by her, suddenly I scream and grab my leg, falling to the floor.
“God! Oh God! Miss! Miss!” I shout to the secretary, pretending to be in agony. She leaps up. “Shall I call for a doctor?” she asks, very concerned.
“No! No! It’s just a cramp. If you could just come over here for a second and help me up. I get them from time to time. I just need to walk it off.” My hand stretches out to her as my face contorts, and I let out a wrenching–“O-h-h-h!”
She hurries around her desk and helps me up. I limp, with her support, leading her down the hall. Halfway down I feign another cramp attack. I moan and groan, fall to the floor and clutch my leg. “I’ll be okay. All I need is some help to walk it off. It’ll be okay in a second or two. Just help me up again. Oh-h-h-h!”
I lead her further away from her desk. By the main doorway, I begin to ask her about being a secretary to psychiatrists, while still acting like I’m in distress. Once she gets to talking, she starts to get lost in what she’s saying for a few minutes.
I begin limping slowly when the hallway elevator doors open. An orderly steps out and turns down the hallway toward the chamber where my friends are listening at Dr. Goldwin’s door.
I have to act fast. I begin yelling, “Orderly! Orderly!”
I have no idea what I will say to him, but he stops, turns, and says, “Yes?”
I explain to him about my leg cramp, and that although the secretary is helping me by holding my left arm, if he could take the other one just until I can get back to the waiting room where my friends can take over to help me.
I limp, with this assistance, toward the waiting area; and when we’re six feet or so from being able to see into the chamber off to the left, I call out, “Steve! Cliff! George! Could you guys come help me?”
I pray my warning cries are heard. When the orderly, the secretary, and I enter the chamber, there are the three spies innocently sitting on the waiting area couch.
* * *
As we jump into a taxi, I ask, “What did you find out?”
“Get this,” says Cliff, obviously annoyed. “I agree to stay with these nuts, and I didn’t even get to listen at the door. Steve tells me I gotta watch down the hallway to see if anyone was coming!”
“I wanted him to stand guard,” says Steve, defending his actions.
“Well, at least Cliff, you must of felt relaxed knowing no one would surprise you,” I say.
“Get out of here!” Cliff responds. “There are three doors in the waiting area–Dr. Goldwin’s office, Dr. Kolanski’s, and some other guy’s. At any second someone might have popped out of any of the doors.”
“Well, anyway, you didn’t get caught,” I say. “What’d you find out?”
“First of all,” says George, “Dr. Goldwin is going to try to get Pete committed to the hospital and to force him to take Thorazine. There’s a meeting in a Judge Kaplan’s chambers at 2:00 today.”
“What else did you hear? I ask.
“Dr. Goldwin,” says Steve, “was yelling at Dr. Kolanski, saying,” ‘What the hell do you think you were doing out there?’ “Then Dr. Kolanski said,” ‘We don’t know what we’re doing with this Thorazine, yet. Just last night one of the patients on it became very sick. We need to back up, re-evaluate.’
“Dr. Goldwin said, ‘Bill, you’re going to have to learn to take a clinically detached view of these cases. Now pull yourself together. I want you to go out there and tell those boys you thought they were talking about some other medication–Reserpine. Tell them you thought they were talking about Reserpine.’
“Dr. Kolanski said, ‘I can’t do that, Robert.’
“Dr. Goldwin said, ‘Let me make myself clearer, I’m ordering you to do it.’
“Dr. Kolanski said, ‘You’re ordering me to do something unethical and immoral.’
“Dr. Goldwin replied, ‘I’m telling you that if you ever want to work as a psychiatrist again, you’ll get out there now and do what I just told you!’
“Dr. Kolanski said, ‘Robert, Pete’s mother has a right to make an informed and completely voluntary decision concerning treatment for her son. I intend…’
“Dr. Goldwin interrupts, hollering, ‘Informed consent–what crap. You know what kind of patients we deal with. You think their parents are any better…’
“Dr. Kolanski then said, ‘Under the law, parents are presumed competent. You presume incompetence. If you think the parent is incompetent to be the boy’s legal guardian, pursue the case in a court of law. At least there she’ll be entitled to due process.’
“Dr. Goldwin then said, ‘Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? Who the hell… you want us to get rid of drugs, do you? What are we supposed to do, talk to the patient? That’s what the social workers and psychologists do. You know what they get paid around here? Do you know what I paid for my brownstone on 57th Street? You’re fired, Dr. Kolanski.'”
Discussion
This story raises some important questions. For example, do you respect Dr. Kolanski for seeking to be honest with Steve and his friends? Did Dr. Goldwin do the right thing by firing Dr. Kolanski? How do readers feel about Dr. Goldwin raising the issue of having a much higher salary than social workers and psychologists because of his prescription privileges?
I encourage readers to chime in on these questions and comment in any other way that comes to mind.
My Best.
Jeff
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Some people will enjoy reading this blog by beginning with the first post and then moving forward to the next more recent one; then to the next one; and so on. This permits readers to catch up on some ideas that were presented earlier and to move through all of the ideas in a systematic fashion to develop their emotional intelligence. To begin at the very first post you can click HERE
Hello Jeff,
I was a child when I saw my parents’ marital conflict become, through the artifice of bad doctors, my mother’s supposed psychiatric illness. My protests became, through the same artifice, my supposed childhood psychiatric illness. After being tortured by artificial comas called sleep cures, my mother submitted to a bromazepam-based treatment, which she continued until her death. The child refused the same prescribed bromazepam, and gave up expressing self in the future in this threatening and toxic family environment. This real story highlights the importance of the child’s own choice, when their parents are too stupid to say no to poisoners wearing doctor’s uniform. It seems to me that this isn’t just a question of the psychiatrist’s emoluments; it’s much more a question of the indoctrination imposed on all young doctors at university. In my country, France, it is impossible to complete the second cycle of medical studies without submitting to the obligatory deception of the imaginary illnesses of an imaginary organ, the psyche. I have had bitter personal experience of this. Thus, the most devoted doctors cause irreparable harm to their clients, children or adults, not for the money, but because of a lack of insight.
Hi Luc Thibaud,
Thanks for sharing your childhood experience. I agree with you that for many psychiatric doctors, it is not just for the money that leads them to advocate for a host of harmful interventions. There is a training process that weeds out those who don’t view what is being taught as the “truth.”
What a sad thing that some psychiatrists are more focused on earnings than on the care and wellbeing of their patients 🙁
Hi JSR,
Earnings can have much more influence than I ever imagined as I began my career. So very sad to see so many selling out.