[First, huge thanks to all who stepped up for blog solidarity during the last couple of days. It means a lot to me, I wish I could better express it.]
Working on the wood, or the juncture of psychiatry and carpentry. Where is that juncture located precisely? (One could confuse this reference to carpentry in the sense of the Jewish carpenter, christianity, etc., but here I mean more something like "the art of working wood.") Why would I bring this up here? Why today? Well, it all has to do with my meeting with Dr. A yesterday — Dr. A, you'll recall is my Dr. Melfi.
Since we took care of most of the basic questions and the demographics during our first "session," our second meeting yesterday afternoon was more productive it seemed. It's not an infinite number of questions, rather it's a small number of really thorny questions that we're trying to tackle. The blog is a fairly open and candid forum I think, and yet, I don't know that everything from my meetings with my shrink need to be brought out, not all those questions. With some issues I'm OK. And one or two that we broached yesterday completely made me laugh. About 15 minutes into our meeting she pulls out the laminated sheet of paper — 8.5 by 11 — blues, yellows, white, a color copy with frowny faces, neutral faces, happy faces, and numerous other symbols. I didn't think it was anything Freemasonic, still it wasn't clear at first exactly what was going on here graphically. Then she begins to explain. The physical and the emotional continuums, the numbers from 1 to 10, etc. So I say, "Oh, you must be speaking of the Franky Scale."
"Bingo."
Although she didn't know the reference to the FS initially, she is of nimble enough mind to catch up and follow. We talked Franky Scale briefly, nothing new there. Apparently the professionals use the FS too. Today, btw, I'll go back to a 7 for the Franky Scale due to slightly better drug management on my part — though my irritability level might be higher/lower (i.e., more severe) than usual. We got the FS out of the way and I notice there are a number of other scales on this sheet. We move on. New adjectives are introduced, different numeric scales, in fact, a qualitativly different type of assessment too. What is she getting at? I thought. I began hearing words like "desire," "frequency," and "hard." This is not just for set up of the story — I really thought when she was talking about degree of "hardness" she was speaking of difficulty; and for a few moments I'm thinking in my chemo brain about what would be the value of a scale that, in part, determines difficulty. Is it difficulty of daily tasks? Difficulty of pain management? Nausea? The little irritations that tend to grow under the chemo rain? What? Am I getting stupid? What's happening?
No, IT'S WOOD. She's talking about the wood scale and I'm practically falling off my chair. It's not about being prudish, as I think many who know me will attest, it's just cracking my shit up that she's got a scale which essentially IS the Wood Scale. Remember many blog posts ago? A few of you were suggesting, you lecherous types, that I actually post a Wood Scale too, to accompany the Franky Scale. I wasn't going there though — not that much disclosure folks. Sorry. Besides, my mother reads this! But Dr. A goes there, very matter of fact, tying it nicely in to the various other issues, or Issues, I'm trying to figure out. So I'd like you to all know that while I may only post the Franky Scale results in here, it looks like I will be "posting" my Wood Scale too.
That, however, just once a week & it's between me and Dr. Melfi. :-) (you perverts!)
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4 comments:
I don't mind you posting a numerical wood scale but let's stay away from photographic representations (for now)
HAPPY THOUGHTS: Well there he was a block away, coming up Broadway (!) with that distinctive urban striude of his, and soon it was talk, coffee, catching up, and around. He is just exactly himself, open, sharp, wry. We hung out some, but then he had to head off to the appointment of which he wrote so wittily in today's posting, WS indeed. Planned to meet the next day for lunch or something, but nausea, cat Crantz trip to the vet, and chemo brain moment related to the meeting, which he had showed up for at the right time but wrong date the day before, postponed our meet until afternoon, when he came by the hotel and picked me up, off we went and got Crantz, saying Hello Lucy to the little pug who thought just possibly we too might have treats. Back to the apt for coffee, scritching Crantz, new pen and a box of bottles of colorful inks mr. j had ordered from Levenger. And I had visited the exhibit of 1945-50 lit materials at the library, and picked up a copy of the catalogue with mr. j's introductory essay, sharp and filled with a proud kind of joy for that moment in a country's history when it broke, if only briefly, out of the shadows of other nations and into the light of its own creating energies.
Martini, food, airport, and back too soon with too many things left unsaid, yet here I am, so glad for the time and his care, in all this, for me.
spacely, you are just to silly at times. if their wasnt a wood scale, you would be sooooo sad. no fun with the "kerryinski" ;) now do you get it, you "prevert" teehee
ooops, btw spot, i loved this blog. to funny. i do know that the "nade" does read. had lunch with her and susan on thursday and was chastised as only she can about "language" that i use here. she cant believe or conceive that her dear son would ever use "those" kinds of words. was lmao at that one. it was a delightful lunch and had a good time with "the mother of all mothers". today starts pride weekend. will be having a hella good time with the queers here. have been letting my hospital friends know of your great results from infusion. they are so pleased for you. they send their love and good thoughts your way. love ya brother. keep on keeping on.
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