Categories
Consult-Liaison Lessons Nonfiction

Approach, Don’t Avoid.

I don’t think the crisis center had been open for even one week. There were dozens of staff and fewer than five patients. Most of the staff were young, eager, and brand new to social services. Only the nurses and I had experience working in higher acuity settings.

One late afternoon, an elderly woman using a walker got a hold of a pair of scissors. One arthritic hand wielded the scissors while the other gripped the walker. Her feet were heavy; she plodded across the floor, chanting, “Kill, kill.” The walker swiveled because her torso wobbled with each step.

Our colleagues fled; doors to staff-only areas clattered shut. A nurse and I looked at each other when we realized we were the only people left in the room with this patient. We both sighed. I used my chin to signal that I would follow him.


Later, I asked to meet with all the staff working that shift. Why did you all leave the scene?

“Because she had scissors and was talking about killing people,” they said. “She had a weapon.” We were fearful that she was going to kill us, dummy!

Because this was my first job as a medical director, I thought I always had to “direct”. I didn’t realize that I could keep asking questions:

  • How do you know that she wanted to kill other people?
  • What else might have happened if everyone left her alone with a pair of scissors?
  • What realistic damage could she have done with the scissors?
  • What unspoken message did we send to each other when we all left?
  • What unspoken message did we send to her?
  • Are there things we could have said to get more information from her?
  • What steps could we have taken to separate her from the scissors?

You can’t always believe what you think.

(To be fair, people who don’t know what to do often run away. Avoidance is a common strategy to cope with fear and anxiety.)


The nurse approached the elderly woman from one side. He took three steps for every one step she took.

“Hi. Can you put the scissors into the basket of your walker, please?” he asked.

“Kill, kill,” she continued to chant, holding the scissors in the air. She continued to plod forward.

“Hi. Put the scissors here, please,” I echoed, pointing at the basket.

Her forward movement stopped. The scissors remained in her raised hand. We stood in stillness together.

Mumbling, she dropped the scissors into the basket. I plucked them out. After thanking her, we asked her to please sit down. “And please don’t do that again. It scares people.”


“Please don’t leave when things like that happen,” I said, directing the team. “When there’s a situation, approach. People might need you to do something. Your presence alone can help de-escalate situations. And someone will send you away if it gets too crowded. But don’t immediately leave.”

For the remainder of my time there, staff never disappeared again during a crisis.

(inspired by claims that RFK, Jr., left the scene of Oval Office medical emergency)

Categories
Consult-Liaison Nonfiction

Learning from Those Who Hear Voices.

When we learn that someone hears voices, we may assume that this person must be “crazy.” Some people who hear voices have a diagnosis of schizophrenia. Others hear voices because of past trauma or profound depression. Despite their symptoms, many of them cultivate peaceful lives. Their ways of coping can teach the rest of us something about cultivating sanity during times of cruelty and injustice.

When people share with me that they hear voices, I aim to ask as soon as possible, “If the voices suddenly disappeared and never came back, would you miss them?”

A small number of people pause before answering, “Yes.” They want to hear the voices of their parents, friends, and other loved ones again. Sometimes they don’t recognize the voices, but the things they say are hilarious.

Most people, though, offer an emphatic “no!” What they hear are constant attacks on their character (“you’re not worthy of love”), frightening instructions (“go punch that woman”), or unwanted chatter (play-by-play commentary of their lives). In desperate bids to shut the voices up, some people resort to stuffing their ears with cotton, screaming back, or drinking alcohol to drown them out. Sometimes they attempt suicide because they can’t tolerate the torment any longer.

However, many people find ways to manage the voices. They learn that increases in stress—hunger, not enough sleep, drug use—make the voices louder and meaner. While grieving the death of a loved one, the voices are noticeably overwhelming. More stability brings more symptom relief.

People who hear voices often have multiple healthful strategies to manage their voices. They’ve tried things and made discoveries. So when I ask, “What do you do now so the voices bother you less?”, they reply:

  • “I put on headphones and listen to music.”
  • “I put on headphones and sing so people think I’m listening to music.”
  • “I call my family or friends.”
  • “I go outside for a long walk and look at trees.”
  • “I go to church and pray to God to make them go away.”
  • “I find people to talk to.”
  • “I go to the library and look at maps.”
  • “I fix bikes with my friends.”

(And, for some people, “Take medicine.”)

While doing these activities, the voices may not go away completely. However, they quiet down enough to be ignored. They are small acts of defiance against despair. Any respite gives them some peace of mind. Furthermore, these activities are self-reinforcing: They improve the quality of their lives in other ways, so they learn to incorporate these activities into their daily routines.

You may not think this post about people hearing voices has anything to offer you. But, if you are seeking more peace of mind right now from things that seem out of your control, we can learn from our friends and neighbors who hear voices.

They, like you, largely do not want to cause problems for themselves or other people. The voices distress them, but they don’t give up in their pursuit for peace and sanity. Instead of waiting for someone else to make the world feel sane, they create their own quiet.

Persisting in the face of adversity reinforces our dignity as people. Maintaining our sanity is a form of resistance. Continuing to do good and refusing to do harm, even just within the limits of the six-foot radius that surrounds each of us, is an act of courage.

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Consult-Liaison Observations

Observations from the Trump-Zelensky Meeting.

For your consideration, here are a few observations about the Trump-Vance-Zelensky argument in the Oval Office today from a psychiatrist:

Vice President Vance began attacking President Zelensky after Zelensky suggested that American diplomacy was not working. Vance started with: “What makes America a good country is America engaging in diplomacy. That’s what President Trump is doing.” After some back and forth, Zelensky said: “But after that, [Putin] broke the ceasefire, he killed our people, and he didn’t exchange prisoners. We signed the exchange of prisoners. But he didn’t do it. What kind of diplomacy, JD, you are speaking about? What do you mean?”

The insinuation here is that if the diplomacy of Trump, the face of America, was effective, Putin would have not broken the ceasefire and killed people. Vance reacted to Zelensky without providing an actual description of diplomatic efforts. He instead immediately pivoted: “Mr. President, with respect, I think it’s disrespectful for you to come into the Oval Office to try to litigate this in front of the American media.”

A couple things here: Zelensky’s body language prior to Vance’s reaction is open and engaged. He is leaning forward and making solid eye contact in Vance’s direction. He is making emphatic gestures. The tone of his voice when he asks, “What kind of diplomacy, JD, you are speaking about?” suggests disagreement, but not hostility.

When Vance responds, Zelensky’s body language immediately shuts down: He sits back and crosses his arms. He looks away. His eyebrows do heavy lifting here; he looks perplexed. His mouth hangs open a bit. Perhaps he is restraining himself from saying things he will later regret. Vance, for his part, gets pointy, both in his speech and with his index finger.

There is little that is respectful in Vance’s statement of “Mr. President, with respect, I think it’s disrespectful for you to come into the Oval Office to try to litigate this in front of the American media”. To criticize a leader’s character in front of cameras is not respectful. To physically point and wag the pointing finger at the president is not respectful. Just because you say “with respect” doesn’t make it respectful. Whenever speech and behavior contradict each other, behavior is more likely to convey the true sentiment.

President Trump began to attack President Zelensky after Zelensky used the word “feel”. Here’s the exchange:

Zelenskyy: “First of all, during the war, everybody has problems, even you. But you have nice ocean and don’t feel now. But you will feel it in the future. God bless –”

Trump: “You don’t know that. You don’t know that. Don’t tell us what we’re going to feel. We’re trying to solve a problem. Don’t tell us what we’re going to feel.”

It’s not even clear what feelings either man is talking about. Zelensky tries to elaborate by saying “You will feel influenced.” Trump immediately disagrees: “We are going to feel very good and very strong.”

Let me get pedantic here: “Influenced” is not an emotion. Neither is “very good” or “very strong”. In reading context clues, my guess is that Zelensky was trying to convey that the United States would feel “threatened” (which is not an emotion, either; fear is the emotion that underlies threats). Trump, whose behavior consistently reveals that he is obsessed with status, can’t tolerate the idea of feeling fear. He seems to believe that feeling fear means you are a beta.

Furthermore, Trump likely views Zelensky as having lower status than him. How dare someone who is “lower” than him tell him how he is going to feel! And in front of cameras! You are not the boss of me!

Maybe I am reading too much into Trump’s reactions to “feelings”, but…

President Trump gets red in the face as they continue to talk about feelings. They don’t linger on feelings for long; soon the conversation shifts to the metaphor of playing cards.

Trump becoming red in the face at this point is noteworthy because once Trump and Zelensky are talking at and over each other, Zelensky’s body language opens up. He uncrosses his arms, drops them to his lap, and makes some gestures. His eyebrows return to heavy labor; he again looks perplexed and ultimately looks away. These changes in body language indicate an effort (maybe nonconscious, though Zelensky has a history as an actor) to de-escalate the situation. What we learn here is that Zelensky is showing some deference to Trump that he did not show to Vance. Trump either doesn’t recognize or acknowledge Zelensky’s efforts to re-establish rapport. He gets red in the face, his voice gets louder, and he becomes more animated. What button did Zelensky push? Was the button labeled “feelings”?

President Trump settles down after Vice President Vance intervenes. What breaks the cross-talk between Trump and Zelensky is Vance asking Zelensky, “Have you said thank you once?”

I wonder if Vance has learned when to intervene to uphold Trump’s perceived status. Maybe Vance knew that, if this interaction continued, Trump would say or do something foolish that would result in an undeniable drop in his status in front of cameras. Zelensky’s body language was beginning to match Trump’s, suggesting that his deference from moments before was disappearing. What better way to artificially elevate one person’s status by coercing the other person to say “thank you”?

Among pro-social people, saying “thank you” is a gracious way to promote and sustain social bonds. We say “thank you” because it is an expression of cooperation, not conflict. However, some people view the phrase “thank you” as an act of submission: YOU are thanking ME because I bestowed something on YOU which means I have more power than YOU.

Following this cue, we hear Trump make comparisons to elevate his status because Zelensky does not say “thank you” to Trump; he does not submit. Trump says Biden is “not a smart person” (implying that he is); Trump asserts that “Obama gave sheets, and Trump gave Javelins”.

Zelensky, ambushed and outnumbered, looks resigned: His shoulders droop, he slowly rubs his fingers over his clasped hands. His eyebrows can no longer do all the work, so the worry spills all over his face.


What we witnessed today, like so many days in the past month, was ugly and cruel. Cowards only jeer when they are playing at home.

Categories
Consult-Liaison Education Medicine Public health psychiatry Reading

What is Mental Health? (01)

To try to answer the perennial question I ask myself (“what am I doing?”), I recently read this 2015 article, What is mental health? Evidence towards a new definition from a mixed methods multidisciplinary international survey.

As a psychiatrist1, do I treat mental illness? What is mental illness? What is mental health?

The paper comments on the ambiguity in the definition of “mental health”:

Mental health can be defined as the absence of mental disease or it can be defined as a state of being that also includes the biological, psychological or social factors which contribute to an individual’s mental state and ability to function within the environment.

Upon reading this I recognized that I define “mental health” according to the second definition, “a state of being…”. This also explains why I internally bristle when people say “mental health” when they actually mean “mental illness”. (Example: The Lancet Commission on ending stigma and discrimination in mental health.)

Figure 2B, the Two Continua Model, resonates with me:

There are people with diagnoses of significant mental illnesses who have “high mental health”. (If we’re going to be picky about words, I’m not sure that I like grading mental health as “high” or “low”. Maybe “well” versus “unwell”? It is more common to hear “I’m physically doing well,” rather than “My physical health is high.”)

Consider the person with a diagnosis of schizophrenia who has been hospitalized multiple times in the past. However, now they go about their lives and only make contact with their healthcare team every few months for routine check-ins.2

Then there are people with no diagnosable mental illness who have “low mental health”. Consider the many people who felt psychologically unwell during the Covid pandemic.

I started doodling to try to determine where psychiatry should intervene along the axes of mental illness and mental wellness:

I have yet to come up with any convincing answers. This doodling did offer clarity, though:

My professional interest has been the diagnosing and treatment of (often severe) mental illness. There are many reasons for this. One compelling reason is that the severity of symptoms makes it unmistakable that professional intervention is warranted.3

Only after years had passed did I recognize that this worldview is why I chafed at some requests patients brought to me early in my career. I once went through an entire diagnostic interview with a guy who worked as a game designer. Nothing came up; according to the Two Continua Model, he had neither a mental illness nor low mental health. Only at the end did he reveal why he had sought care from a psychiatrist: “My girlfriend takes Prozac and it made her more creative. I thought that if I take Prozac, that might make me creative, too, which can help me with my work.”

My goal was to diagnose and treat a mental illness. His goal was mental enhancement.

Are these two goals mutually exclusive? I don’t think so, though I want to noodle on this more.

The history of psychiatry holds these two goals in tension, too: On one end are the state psychiatric hospitals (also called asylums) where some people with severe symptoms (or not) were held (warehoused?) prior to the elimination of these institutions. On the other end are the psychoanalysts, where the typical patient was “a college-educated, upper-middle class professional who paid for service out of pocket.

More to follow as I continue to wonder what I am doing.


  1. It was never part of The Plan to become a psychiatrist. This is part of the reason why I ask myself the perennial question, “What am I doing?”
  2. When asked, “What is your best life?”, no one responds, “I want to spend as many precious moments of my existence in hospitals and clinics.”
  3. A choice quote from the paper that highlights why I personally like clarity about where professional intervention is warranted: “Lots of things can cause people problems—poverty, vices, social injustice, stupidity—a definition of health should not end up defining these as medical problems.”
Categories
Consult-Liaison Reflection

Killing and Suffering.

To become a doctor, one learns how to prevent disease and death. To do this, one first must become acquainted with them: What happens? What does disease and death look like? sound like? smell like? What are their textures and patterns? What shifts over time, until the patient has no more time left?

As medical students learn what disease and death look like, they witness human suffering. Many students are unprepared for this. The tears that physicians in training shed are not from recognition of the mechanisms of disease and death. They cry because of the human suffering that surrounds them, that submerges them.

We don’t cry because we recognize that the proteins in the coagulation cascade aren’t reacting fast enough. We weep because there is so much blood everywhere. We see how pale their skin is, hear their rapid heartbeat on the monitor, and feel the coolness of their skin.

We see the contortions of their loved one’s face. We hear them scream, their sobs escaping their throats.

If we cry when we witness the suffering of one or two human beings, won’t we still cry when this happens to multiple human beings who are infected with a pandemic illness?

What if the cause of death isn’t a disease, but is instead a person? How do we then react?


Some psychiatrists recently shared the mental model of projection to explain why people kill others. Briefly: Projection is an unconscious process. People generally don’t think of themselves doing “bad” things:

  • I would never hate people because of their religion.
  • I would never treat people differently because they are poor.
  • I would never deny someone a place to live.

… even though they may have fleeting thoughts or impulses that align with these.

In projection, someone will “project” negative thoughts and impulses onto someone else and deny that they themselves ever have them:

  • I’ve done the work and I don’t have implicit biases. That guy, though, hates anyone who belongs to that religion.
  • I’m open-minded and understand that people who are poor are still people. That person, though, thinks poor people are all lazy and stupid. Just a bunch of moochers.
  • Of course everyone deserves a place to live. That guy, though, thinks some people deserve to be homeless. He thinks they’re all criminals and deserve to die.

In projection, we (unconsciously) don the gown of righteousness. We can do no wrong. Our intentions and motives are pure. In projection, we (unconsciously) coat The Other Person in the rags of depravity. They are evil. They only want to do bad things.

We are nothing like them. We could never be like them. They could never be like us. Anything we do glows with virtue. Anything They do is wrong.

We crush cockroaches underfoot because we are nothing like them and could never be like them.

How different are They from cockroaches?


We can’t test for projection. This is supposed to be an entirely unconscious process. (If we were conscious that this were happening, we would (should?) be horrified. We could not tolerate this and would take steps to stop it.)

I don’t discount the idea of projection for killing, but because there is no way to validate it, this is not the first explanation I go to. There are also a lot of steps: I’m a good person, you’re a bad person, you’re so bad that I don’t think you’re a person anymore, so killing you isn’t actually killing a person.

The dehumanization that comes from neglect is more compelling to me than the dehumanization that comes from projection. Indifference can cause more harm. It can be a conscious choice.

It’s not that I think you’re subhuman or an animal. I just don’t think about you at all. Torturing and killing an animal, even a cockroach, means that I at least thought of you as something that can react. If I don’t think about you at all, then you already don’t exist. And what sort of reaction could you possibly have if you don’t exist?

What harm could torture, rape, and murder have on nothing? If you don’t exist, then I’m not killing anyone in hospitals and schools. There are no children. I’m just flattening buildings.

You don’t matter. You have no matter.


People, like you and me, weep around the world.

A man cries for his son who will not live to start school because of the cancer in his brain. A son cries for his mother who died in an accidental plane crash. Someone cries for a friend of 60 years because their heart stopped beating.

Death from disease and the random events of life already causes suffering. Do not cause more suffering by killing other people. You will not only destroy others, but you will also destroy yourself.