Several years ago I took Prozac for what was then thought to be Major Depression. The hypomanic episode it precipitated gave me a book. But before that, it gave me the runs. Since my first doctor thought the runs would go away on their own, but I was about to leave for Costa Rica and wanted them to go away faster, I sought a second opinion. The new patient form asked for my full history, and I told the truth about my depression, as well as the runs.
What follows is an excerpt from Prozac Monologues, the book to be published next year. It describes that appointment. I offer it as an example of a doctor functioning as priest. [See last week's commentary on Ron Pies' article, Priests, Providers, and Protectors: The Three Faces of the Physician.] Not the Father kind of priest, but the more ancient healer/witch/shaman kind. It's tricky to handle the power of the priesthood. But I want doctors to manage that power responsibly, not give it up on account of its ambiguity. It is the power of relationship. We need doctors to use every power at their disposal to heal. Priesthood is one of those powers.
The Look
...When the doctor looked at the piece of paper with all those words circled on it, she didn't smile at my weak attempt at humor. Oh well. What she was most concerned about for my trip to Costa Rica was how I would manage my depression as the Prozac was leaving my system -- which I could tell it was, because the dark suffocating cloud was coming back.