
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
This blog seeks to empower its readers, many of whom are directly involved in the mental health arena or will become so in the future. Others are, or will become, involved indirectly because of someone they care about. Thus, it makes sense to spend some time learning how to effectively engage with mental health service providers.
One way to achieve this is to be aware of some of the arena’s major ethical challenges. Today, we will focus on four involving psychiatric diagnoses.
The American Psychiatric Association provides a definition of a “mental disorder” in its most recent version of the Diagnosis and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5). Let’s take a look at it:
Mental disorders are usually associated with significant distress in social, occupational, or other important activities. An expected or culturally approved response to a common stressor or loss, such as the death of a loved one, is not a mental disorder. Socially deviant behavior (e.g., political, religious, or sexual) and conflicts that are primarily between the individual and society are not mental disorders unless the deviance or conflict results from a dysfunction in the individual, as described above. (p.20)
Notice how broad this definition is. It makes mention of a “disturbance” that reflects a “mental dysfunction in the individual.” We all run into some disturbances in our life. How can a professional reliably tell if the disturbance is due to a “mental dysfunction?” We are left in the dark about this. The process described in the DSM-5 for assessing the subjective notions of “clinical significance,” “disturbance” and “dysfunction in the individual” provides clinicians an opportunity to include anything that benefits their set of values.
If the social deviance or conflict results from a “dysfunction in the individual,” then a mental disorder exists in the individual. Once again we are left in the dark about how this distinction is made. It is left to the subjective judgment of the clinician.
An expected or culturally approved response to a common stressor or loss, such as the death of a loved one, is not a mental disorder.
Although he survives, he suffers the loss of a leg and an arm. Moreover, in the attack, two of his closest team members had burned to death in front of his eyes. This soldier seeks psychological help. He tells his story with tears running down his face and his one hand that he has left is shaking. He reports having nightmares and difficulty functioning in social situations. The clinician is well aware that such stressful experiences are fairly common under the set of circumstances faced by this soldier. And yet can anyone imagine the clinician denying services to this soldier because his response to the stressor is expected and culturally approved? If the clinician does agree to provide services, he or she would have to provide some mental disorder “diagnosis” on an intake form.
In my view, clinicians routinely ignore the “expected or socially approved” clause. It might have sounded like a good idea to insert into the mental disorder definition for those who developed the DSM-5, but I think few people genuinely believe that in practice clinicians are turning away paying customers when someone seeks help after having experienced the death of a loved one, or any other common stressor. To see such clients, clinicians are required in most mental health settings to assign a mental disorder “diagnosis.”
Most clinicians have a financial interest in deciding whether or not those seeking their services have a “clinically significant” condition. When they judge that their clients’ conditions are indeed significant, they indicate this on the third party intake forms by assigning a mental disorder “diagnosis” and this allows them to continue to see these clients and to get paid for additional visits.
Clinicians refer to mental health service users with “mental illness” and “mental disorder” terminology. These are the same terms that many people use as insults and the media regularly pairs with the most heinous crimes. The stigma associated with such terminology is well recognized. There would be some justifiable reasons to continue to use such terminology if it provided scientific precision to those who wish to communicate about those utilizing mental health services, but as we have seen, this is not the case.
The current psychiatric diagnoses approach focuses on the “dysfunctions” of individuals accessing mental health services rather than human strengths within a cultural context. Moreover, it seeks to legitimize the privileging of the “expert” who supposedly has access to the truth and who can see the truth of the truth. We see this reflected in the mental health arena when we find that it is the clinician that makes the so-called “diagnosis.” The expert is thus seen as always equipped with technical knowledge and jargons without which the truth of knowing would be imponderable. This perspective can paralyze the power of choices for mental health service users.
Although the CSM has not yet been fully developed, becoming familiar with its basic ideas are empowering. Combining these ideas with knowledge about the three psychiatric diagnoses ethical challenges–conflicts of interest, stigma, and violating the respect of mental health service users–can assist people to become far more effective in interacting with mental health service providers.