Restrictions May Apply

I don't know what I expected when I'd turned up at the clinic - apart from the stress-inducing search for a parking space.

Actually, that's not strictly true. Partly, I realised afterwards, I really had expected to talk to some bearded Freud lookalike, with a calming voice - listening to me as I lay uncomfortably on a chaise longue in a darkened room.

What I hadn't expected was Janice. From the way she reacted to my reaction, I got the impression that most people she saw felt the same way.

"Hello Mr Mackie. My name's Janice, and I'm a member of the Mental Health Team. You're here because your GP - Dr Clarke, is that right? - asked to refer you to a psychiatrist. Is that the case?"

"Yes, that's right. You probably hear this all the time - but it feels a bit strange, coming to talk to a psychiatrist. I have to say your room's not what I imagined. Not that, er..."

"Not like in the movies, you mean? No, you're quite right. I have to tell you, though - I'm not a psychiatrist. As part of the CMHT, it's my job to assess which cases get referred to the consultant psychiatrist." She'd caught the look of puzzlement on my face. "Sorry. CMHT. That's Community Mental Health Team. We tend to have a lot of acronyms around here."

"Oh. Right. It's just that I expected..."

"To speak to the consultant straight away? Yes, a lot of people do. But the consultants are very busy, you see - so we're like a, a..."

"First line of defence?"

"Ha ha," she laughed - or rather, said the words 'ha ha'. "I was thinking in terms of triage and assessment - but yes, if you prefer. First line of defence."

I smiled, hoping to show I'd been joking - though in fact I was feeling pretty deflated at being fobbed off.

Much as I'd been wary of the idea of unburdening myself to the psychiatrist, talking to Janice filled me with even more dread and embarrassment.

"Now, Mr Mackie, shall we talk about whatever seems to be the problem?"


Story begins here.