Imagine this. You're uninsured. You've got a terrible sore throat and a deep hacking cough. You go to the local "Doc in a Box" clinic - the one that only takes cash or credit, and makes you pay before you see the doc.
When you first get there, you notice the plexiglass barrier between the receptionists and the clients. A large man sits in the corner, wearing a gun. Then you're told "Oh, we're sorry. You need an appointment to see someone, even if you're very ill. The wait time is about 3 weeks." You reluctantly make the appointment and hope to God you feel better. That office was awful.
Unfortunately, you don't get better. In fact, you're coughing up blood by now. Someone's sent you a list of items to bring to your appointment. You'll need your birth certificate, social security, proof of residency in the County, and pay stubs. Lots of pay stubs. You can pay for your care, you just need to see a doctor. Why are they treating you like a criminal?
So you get back to the doctor's office. You see people leaving in tears because they only have kidney stones, not pneumonias. The doctor's office is only treating Pneumonia and heart attacks now. If you have any other illness, you're SOL. They're the only doctors in town who will deal with uninsured clients.
You get treated like a loser as you attempt to fill in the paperwork. Wierd, scary people stare at you. You can't even use the bathroom without being accompanied by the gun-toting security guard. You just want to get better. You'll pay as much as you can, but everyone's making it impossible for you.
That, my freind, is the County Mental Health system. I get irate when people go on about how the crazy people don't want help and won't take their pills. If you had to go through that, just to be evaluated, would you ever come back if you could help it?
Thank God I didn't have to. My aunt found me Dr P, who takes uninsured patients (I pay cash before I see him, just like I do at the medical clinic). I pay for my care, and I pay for my pills. But what if, God forbid, I coudn't?
I'd have to go to the county mental health clinic. I did. It was hell. Here I am, already sick with mania. I can't sit still and I can feel the damned bugs crawling on my skin. I'm hyper and anxious and some kid pulls the fire alarm. Ha ha. You would have to be insane to want to go back to the county mental health clinic, assuming you had the wherewithal to get the necessary paperwork together in the first place. It was AWFUL! I knew I could DIE from my illness and I didn't want to go back.
Here's my dream. It's just like what happens at the regular medical clinic. I call and I make an appointment. A kind person answers my call and asks about my symptoms. I tell her and she makes a note. She tells me the date and time I can come in.
I come in early and I'm given a 1-3 page questionare (sic). I detail my symptoms and my medical history. I go to the desk and turn it in. While I'm there, I pay cash, or I swipe my "National Health Insurance" card. The receptionist smiles at me as I sit down again. I don't see a menacing security guard with a gun. Soon, my name is called, I speak with a doctor, and I walk out of there with my medication. My National Health Insurance covers my medication. I'll go back every month for a refill and checkup.
I truly believe that people want to be well. They know they are "sick", they hate it, and they want to feel like they're in control of their minds again. But if you make the process of applying for help, getting evaluated, and obtaining medication a difficult, painful, prohibitively expensive, and humiliating process then we'll continue to have "incidents" where "crazy people do crazy things".
I can dream. And I will.
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