Dear Dr. Ding
Ed. note: By the Sacred Silver Go-Go Boots of GirlJesus™, Dr. Ding is delighted to take a break from her strenuous biweekly posting schedule featuring mostly YouTube videos, tiny monkeys, and random pelvic thrusting in order to respond to reader mail.
Dear Dr. Ding:
Why don’t you write some posts about all your interesting (or “clinically significant”) adventures at work, the crazy things your patients do? I know you, girl. You’ve worked in max. security prison, drug treatment, a pain management clinic, private practice, inpatient, outpatient, impatient (see I can be funny too), and now you work in long-term care. I know you must have some really funny stories in there. Dish.
You Know Who
Dear You Know Who:
Le heave. Le sigh. Dr. Ding most assuredly DOES possess a vast reservoir of highly clinically significant and/or hysterically funny anecdotes from her varied career to date. However, this stuff just isn’t cricket for me to offer up here for reader amusement. We can talk about my loathing of paradoxical intent, my delight in rediscovering Ericksonian hypnosis for pain control, and the fact that I find it disproportionately hilarious to call managed care “damaged care”…but I view the confidential bond between shrink and shrinkee as not just an ethical precept, but something inviolable, something actually sacred.
I know, I’m totally harshing your humor buzz, You Know Who. And I know you’re going to be annoyed with me personally, kind of like that time I spat out that hellish swill you call a well-made gin martini. But I just can’t talk about specifics. Can I speak in generalities about some rather uh whimsical social trends I’ve witnessed over the last couple of decades? Sure. Can I reveal the cure for aging in a scabrous yet silly way? Sure. But it ends there.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some go-go boots I must needs attend to fortwith. Chi Chi’s doesn’t take reservations after 7:00 p.m. you know, no matter whose spiritual posse you’re rolling with.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Ain’t Technology Grand?
Thanks to the marvels of age-progression technology, you are all now able to see Dr. Ding at the age of 90. For some reason they missed the tall glass of Scotch. And my rocket car. But they got the hot-pink, somewhat coordinated ensemble just dead on the money.
Image source: Dlisted.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Unsuccessful Aging 101
So. Along the way, Dr. Ding has picked up some good tips on how to ensure a fairly miserable old age. Here are the top five:
1. Stop moving. I mean it. Ride when you can walk. Sit when you could stand, and lie down when you could be sitting. At the first sign of aches or minor pains, slow down and baby yourself. Invest in a cushy recliner and use it every day while watching hours of TV or dozing. Give up on any leisure interests involving physical movement when you first notice you can’t do these things at 100% capacity. Sore shoulders preventing you from casting a fishing line or digging in the garden? Well, clearly it’s time to just chuck in the whole thing and start sitting on your ass. If you’re lucky, maybe your constant bitching will result in a full-blown Vicodin dependence due to your physician just trying to shut you the hell up by writing you a Rx and getting you out of his office.
2. Eat lots of stuff with hydrogenated oils in order to clog up your arteries, cause generalized inflammation throughout body and brain, and ultimately land you a lovely case of dementia or possibly cancer. Or diabetes. Or a heart attack. Or a stroke that leaves you in diapers, unable to move yet fully aware of your predicament. Poopilicious!
3. Don’t bother to repair your familial and social relationships if they’ve frayed over the years. Cut off ties altogether by being perpetually sour, obsessive, misanthropic, critical, stubborn, unforgiving, resentful, self-absorbed or otherwise emotionally stingy. This will ensure no one visits you or stays long when they do. Slowly become disinterested in other people so that your whole word telescopes down to how much your lumbago hurts, how Kids Today Are Good For Nothing, and how much you hate people different from you; this will render your company absolutely stultifyingly boring and nasty to the point where everyone will eventually abandon you, thus giving you even more stuff to howl about.
4. For the love of Christ, don’t ever do anything too mentally stimulating or challenging. Don’t read newspapers, magazines, or books. Don’t to crossword puzzles or Sudoku. Never see a movie or attend the theater. Watch lots of soap operas and trash TV instead. If you do read, read the same genres over and over and don’t indulge in any desires to branch out intellectually. Slowly begin to lose your cognitive functions altogether.
5. Nutrition, schmutrition. Drinking water is for sissies who can’t tolerate urinary tract infections! And the dark-green, choline-rich vegetables that may stave of Alzheimer’s Disease are for people who can’t handle their goddamn Cheetos. You should definitely eschew foods containing B-vitamins or fiber, thus ensuring continually depressed moods as well as the kind of chronic constipation necessitating gloved fingers up yer butt. Impacted feces, oh golly gee! Get lots of preventable diseases by eating a nutrient-poor diet, and deplete your savings entirely in the process of trying to reverse said disease with pills and surgery. Enter a nursing home prematurely. Die before your time.
Neato!
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Burnout Questionnaire Regarding Being Burned-Out
Burnout Questionnaire About Burnout: Are You Burned-Out?
By Dr. Ding
aka Dr. Dementa
Please answer the following items “yes”, “no”, or using whatever series of expletives seems to best fit. Sample repsonse is indicated below. It should be noted that this inventory was compiled of non -face-valid items that are empirically derived. Certain questions may strike you as odd, or quite possibly even distressing. Ok, demented even. But remember, your responses to these items are completely confidential, and will only be released to your personal therapist, his/her supervisor, the consulting psychiatrist, your insurance reviewer, who no doubt is some mulleted wankster who knows half your neighbors, friends, relatives and coworkers and isn’t bound by the same confidentiality guidelines as even yourself. So, take your time and respond to each item as quickly as possible. Please write your answers legibly on a separate sheet of paper, and for God’s sake, please try not to drool. This contaminates the interpretability of the test. Have a nice day.
EXAMPLES:
Item:“I frequently find myself taking on additional tasks at work, just to challenge myself”
Sample response: “Fuck no!”
Item: “I feel often that life holds very little hope for me if I continue in this line of work”
Sample response: “Hell yes. What kind of dumbass do you think I am?”
Let’s begin, shall we?
1. I find my work as interesting as ever.
2. I would enjoy doing what I am doing for the rest of my life.
3. I have no desire to quit my current job.
4. After reading the above three items, I broke down and sobbed uncontrollably from the painful irony.
5. I like cheese.
6. Maybe you would like some cheese too.
7. Oftentimes I talk when no one is around.
8. Diagnosing patients is pretty much a crapshoot, on a good day.
9. When in session, I try to look directly at the client as little as possible.
10. I have difficulty getting out of bed in the morning.
11. I have difficulty locating my office.
12. I am troubled by thoughts of wanting to choke the living shit out of the consulting psychiatrist.
13. People can read my thoughts.
14. Between sessions I wear a little foil hat to prevent thought transmissions from, you know, them.
15. There is a conspiracy.
16. I am aware of my strengths although they include public nudity and eating coffee grinds.
17. Every day, my flatulence troubles me just a bit more.
18. I would enjoy a career as a florist.
19. I would enjoy a career away from this God-forsaken hellhole.
20. As a child, I never dreamed my life would consist of listening to people drone on about their so-called “problems”. As if panic disorder and coprophagia are “problems”. Yeah, right. Whatever.
21. Evil spirits possess me at times.
22. The spirit of Jerry Springer lives in my pants at times.
23. Most people just want to get laid and tell me about it.
24. My father wore a hat made of herring.
25. I could make a lot more money if I would show up for work.
26. During staff meetings I prefer to make miniature drawings of Elvis.
27. The phrases “That bothers you?” “Let’s talk about you” “I can see you’re hurting” and “What you feel is the most important” seem to come out of my mouth when I am trying to get an estimate on my car repair.
28. Secretly I would like to bathe in pudding.
29. I would be a psychopath if I were paid more money.
30. Drinking hard liquor until falling into a stupor makes me happy.
31. I have taken up golf.
32. Listening is just waiting your turn to talk.
33. My mother hosted parties where angry dwarves would play canasta and sing German opera.
34. I think that deep down, I am a very shallow person.
35. Most of my patients would say that I have a definite booger problem.
36. My house is overrun with small, perfectly-formed turds that answer to the name of Harry.
37. I would change careers, but I am Catholic and haven’t suffered enough.
38. One’s capacity to withstand pain is directly related to foot odor.
39. Lemmings seem to have the right idea.
40. Plaid pants are appealing.
41. I think that adult diapers, with the right accessories, can really enhance one’s chances for promotion.
42. My supervisees call me Hoss behind my back.
43. Constipation is a way of life for some people.
44. When I am uncertain about what to do with a patient, I just pretend I am a large green ottoman until they leave.
45. This profession was made for people who like tight underwear.
46. I was able to laugh, once upon a time.
47. Empathy is for the birds.
48. My written reports, although brief, contain many illustrations and diagrams of the interpretive dances I do in session.
49. I would do my own billing, but I only work with even or prime numbers.
50. Lighting fires would be an enjoyable hobby.
51. Sometimes I daydream about admitting myself to an inpatient unit so I wouldn’t have to worry about all this crap.
52. I never bargained for this.
53. Would you like to see my scar?
54. My bowels sometimes leave my body.
55. Other people, especially my colleagues, just don’t seem to understand my unique method of salting my patients.
56. You would smear shit on the wall if you had my office décor, too.
57. I think that 5 hours of sleep per night and 12-hour workdays build character.
58. I would kill myself if I weren’t looking.
59. I am about as mystified by the vagaries of hand lotion as I ever was.
60. My nose has a secret compartment.
61. Most people, given the chance, would change their identity and take up smelting.
62. When I reflect upon my most successful cases I am at times troubled by a shattering sense of failure.
63. I once dropped trou at a party hosted by Henry Kissinger.
64. I know the real meaning of the phrase “I’m a hootchee cootchee man” as sung by Bo Diddley.
65. The MMPI-2 is for sissies.
66. Lately my sweat smells like someone’s stanky drawers.
67. I regret most of the decisions I have made, especially the ones involving hand puppets in treating dementia.
68. I believe I have a special purpose, although I tend to confuse it with my laundry.
69. When a patient is relating a matter of great emotional impact that touches on some of my own personal issues, my preferred manner of coping is to stick my fingers in my ears and sing “lalalalalalala” until they are done.
70. My training consists solely of cognitive-behavioral approaches to existential crises.
71. Hamsters are intriguing and have inspired me throughout my career.
72. I always refer to support staff by the name of “Slappy”.
73. My first supervisor told me I was doing it all wrong, but I was really doing that on purpose, anyway.
74. Most people have a keen interest in figuring out ways to tell people to fuck-off, without using the word “fuck” or “off”.
75. I play air guitar only when I think I am going to get caught.
76. Sensitivity, schmensitivity.
77. I have taken to wearing several strategically-placed Kleenex in lieu of clothing on “casual day”.
78. I would enjoy telling people that I admire my own ass, but I am too shy.
79. At conferences, I try to look as opaque and disgruntled as possible.
80. It was twenty years ago today, Sergeant Pepper’s band came to play.
81. I am on a personal quest to bring parataxic distortions back into vogue.
82. When I speak to managed care representatives, I often pretend I too have no formal training or clinical experience, just for the fun of it.
83. My own therapist tells me that the voices are right.
84. When giving formal presentations, I enjoy livening things up with a little jig.
85. I see dead people.
86. I see dumb people. And the scariest part is, they don’t know they’re dumb.
87. The biggest influence on my supervision style was Benito Mussolini.
88. I think people are overrated.
89. I am severely troubled by my lack of black, tarry stools.
90. My relationships seem to end with one or more of the following: a) the sudden appearance of flannel pajamas, b) massive pyrotechnic explosions, c) a long car chase culminating in a 16-car pileup, d) an audible “pop!” and suddenly finding myself in the middle of the string section of the Berlin Philharmonic, or e) seemingly endless reenactments of Monty Python dialogue.
91. I am utterly amazed during the majority of my waking hours.
92. As a child, I enjoyed disemboweling my elders.
93. Secretly, I am thrilled to listen to the exploits of CPAs.
94. The last time I wrote a progress note, you were still in short pants.
95. Of all the things I’ve done, I regret having that therapy group for borderlines over to my home for dinner and drinks the most.
96. When in doubt, just yell “Hey! Snap out of it!!”.
97. If the above doesn’t work, try “Take it easy, cha cha”.
98. I feel sad that there are so few people in the bathroom when I sit there and make various witty remarks.
99. When I have trouble focusing, I just put on a jaunty French beret.
100. It looks like I dropped a television set down the back of my pants, thanks to years of back-to-back sessions.
.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Friday Diatribe
Dr. Ding is going to begin working for a franchise of Old Peeps homes within the next couple of weeks. In the course of researching said home(s), the following facts were discovered regarding the various amenities available:
1. Homemade ice cream parlor
2. Beauty salon and barbershop
3. Country store
4. Computer room
5. Gazebo
6. Library
7. 7-passenger mini van
8. Health services
9. Occupational therapy
10. Church services
They also have a state-approved evacuation plan, an emergency on-call system, a backup electrical generator in case of power failure, several lounges, an activity room (shuffleboard! canasta parties!), dining areas, and are within 5 minutes of restaurants, theaters, malls, and sporting events such as horse racing. Sign me up!
Does your apartment complex or current living situation offer even half of these amenties? I mean sure, my complex has the ususal stuff like a pool, a gym, a movie theater and a place to send faxes and check email, but we certainly don’t have a goddamn ice cream parlor or 7-passenger party bus! My god–if this is where I’m going to end up some day, then I want to begin aging as quickly as possible, starting right this second. These oldsters have it going on! I’m going to start smoking American Spirits (less tar, more wrinkles), drinking a cup of bourbon in the morning, and staying up late to fret about work. I think that ought to get me there inside of about 7-10 more years. I can’t wait! My only regret is that I didn’t find out about this sooner.
If you would like to embark on my newfound life mission of retiring to a social paradise of quality ice cream eating, gambling, gazebo-sitting, nonstop partying, and road trips, just let me know, and I’ll get us a spot reserved. Of course, we’re all going to have to work triple overtime every week and probably have a couple-three heart atacks during the next 7-10 years in order to afford all this, but then again, that’s the whole plan anyway! It’s a beautiful thing. Get yourself a good defibrillator and let’s have at it!
Who’s with me?
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |