KERSPLAT!

Author © Scott D. Zachary

       How could my perceptions be so untrue? I was confident that the ball was destined for the centerfield bleachers—if not entirely out of the park. I even imagined the fans cheering at the top of their lungs and the Jumbotron flashing my amazingness for all to see. Out of the park is right, albeit, not the way I had construed it.

       Then I heard a distinct “THUNK!” resonate from the catcher’s mitt. The ball must’ve slipped into one of those wormholes that leads back to where you are. The umpire hollered, “Strike three! You’re OUT!”

       Game over. Season over.

       How could I be so wrong? I felt my bat connect solidly with the ball. I know it did. There is no mistaking it. My mind was already preparing to take the magical stroll around the bases. I had visualized the three men on base waiting at home plate to lift me high into the air. Instead, they would give me jeers and sneers for having gone for the fence like the third-base coach had signaled.

       My shoulders slumped as I plodded into the dugout where our team’s manager declared, “You won’t be with us next season.”

       That’s exactly the degree of disappointment I felt when I plummeted, in one fell swoop, from “an amazing person” to one not worth being associated with—only because I had followed the third-base coach’s directive and didn’t play it safe. Only because I had unwittingly given away the key to my initiative.

       Perhaps it was meant to be. Maybe it’s time for a new game. A new team. A new season. Nine years is a long season, anyway. And what a season it was!

       Can you remember a nine-year-long stretch where you did not encounter the slightest little problem of any kind? I’m sure there must’ve been a few problems along the way, but I didn’t look at them that way. I always spotted the silver lining, brightened its halo, and veered around that dark cloud, avoiding its dismal specter. I kept my blinder firmly in place, consistently striving toward the next lofty ideal; that is until I was notified that I wasn’t worthy of any further care.

       In those nine years since Dr. Vance diagnosed my bipolar disorder and prescribed lithium carbonate to balance my moods, I have accomplished incomparably more than I had in my previous half-century. I’ve helped thousands of people locally, throughout the state, and around the globe. Instead of being applauded for my remarkable generosity and caregiving, I received a blunt notification from RiverValley Behavioral Health saying effectively, “Dear Valued Patient: You’re outta here.” And so I am.

       Let me back up a little so you can see the whole picture. For years, I had been using alcohol to treat a bipolar disorder that I didn’t know I had. I hammered the tops off my mania daily with uncountable bottles of Corona, preventing myself from completing the cycle into depression. Then, in May 2009, I began trying to control my drinking which allowed my mania to go unchecked for five solid months. During that time, I went all out to save the world: I broke the record at Children International for the most children sponsored by paying for a full year’s sponsorship for 29 children located in many countries throughout the world; I attempted to convert my 74-acre farm into a technical school where young Haitian men could be trained to rebuild their decimated end of the island of Hispaniola; I flew to New Jersey and jerked my buddy, Ed Matlack, out of his diabetic coma; and I quit my job, fully expecting God to provide the funding for my extravagance. Delusional?

       If I’d had enough money, I might’ve saved the whole world. I was earnestly working on it, anyway. But my controlled drinking spoiled everything. It allowed me to complete the cycle into depression. On September 28, 2009, I quit drinking entirely, which didn’t help matters. I plunged into suicidal depression, never imagining that my problem was a chemical deficiency. I was sure that it was a psychological problem that could be resolved by getting my focus outside of myself.

       After visiting Carol Johnson on her deathbed at the Atlanta Hospice Center back in 2004, I put a sticky note on my office wall as a reminder to volunteer at the Owensboro Center. In dire straits five years later, I find myself driving to the local Hospice office to sign up to help their patients help me. That interview with the Hospice Coordinator was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done—trying to pretend that I was of sound mind when all I wanted to do was die. Somehow, I got through that tribulation, drove home, put the barrel of my .38 caliber revolver to my temple, and tried my damnedest to pull the trigger. In a moment of lucidity, I ran down the hill and threw my gun into the deep end of the pond.

       I struggled to get off the sofa day after day for some weeks until my AA sponsor got me into the Crisis Stabilization Unit at RiverValley Behavioral Health. I had severe reactions to the first two medications that Dr. Vance prescribed for me. Then he gave me lithium, and my virtual F-16 has cruised swiftly and steadily ever since.

       To renew my lithium prescription, I’ve had to visit a psychiatrist at RiverValley periodically for the past nine years. Upon reading my extraordinary self-assigned “List of Accomplishments and Plans” in October 2012, my doctor, Dr. Basit, said, “I’d be proud if I accomplished all of that in six months!” The last time I saw Dr. Basit, she extended my six-month visits to one year.

       I told my next doctor, Dr. Harmon, that due to my extraordinarily responsible behavior, Dr. Basit didn’t require me to see a therapist every three months as other patients are required to do. He said, and I quote, “I wouldn’t dream of changing a treatment plan that’s working.”

       On January 15, 2016, I met with Dr. Vance after not having seen him since my last visit to the Crisis Stabilization Unit in early 2010. I don’t know how much time is usually scheduled for the psychiatrists’ appointments, but I am absolutely certain they are not an hour and forty-five minutes. I handed Dr. Vance my six-year sobriety token as I told him that my life keeps getting better and better. I shared with him about having attended EMT School in the evenings after working all day as a systems analyst and showed him my instructor’s letter of recommendation saying that I graduated top of the class out of 36 students. The same goes for Nurse Aide School that year and the instructor’s subsequent top-notch recommendation—at 55 years old. I described how I felt about my first skydive for my 56^th birthday during the weekend before I went on my first Christian medical mission as a dental assistant. I shared how I had studied optometry and performed as Team Lead for the Optical Clinic for the next six missions to Nicaragua and Honduras. When I told him that I had quit smoking and ran the Triple Crown and Derby Half Marathon three years in a row, he shared with me about his daughter running those same races. I talked about having volunteered for Hospice and the homeless shelter. “I taught myself Spanish, too!” I declared as I fluently read and translated the Mayor of Rancho Grande’s ornate Diploma of Recognition thanking me for vastly improving the quality of life for the population of Rancho Grande, Nicaragua, and the surrounding region.

       Dr. Vance touted, “I love seeing someone who turns the world upside down like you’re doing, Scott. Heaven knows it needs it!” He was so thoroughly bedazzled by all my accomplishments since I had last seen him at the beginning of 2010 that he obviously did not want to end our session.

       His eyes twinkled with emotion when I shook his hand, saying, “Thank you, Dr. Vance, for saving my life!”

       That was the last time I saw Dr. Vance. Good fortune had my four-tiered, rainbow extravaganza gift arrive from the Popcorn Factory on the day of his departure, expressing my heartfelt appreciation. The enclosed card read: “Thanks to you and your staff, my life is one big rainbow now!”

       I saw Dr. Harmon a couple more times after each subsequent six-month period. Then I received a letter from him addressed to “Dear Valued Patient,” saying, “I will no longer be accepting or scheduling any appointments for adult patients.” Although my name was not on the letter, I assumed that he was referring to me as one of those adults.

       I began seeing Dr. Perry in July 2017. She inspired me! You may have read my previous short-story memoirs, “An Amazing Person” and “Your Care Is Precious,” which feature Dr. Perry. In those stories, I illustrated Dr. Perry’s amazed reaction to my lists of accomplishments and plans. If you haven’t read those two stories, you should; then you will understand precisely why she was so amazed by my extraordinary generosity and caregiving.

       For starters, in the three years since I last saw Dr. Vance, while working fulltime as a contract systems analyst and maintaining zero debt, I sponsored the drilling of two complete water wells in Africa and another two in India, trained on water treatment technology and hygiene/sanitation procedures, donated nine M-100 Chlorine Generators for my water treatment mission trips to Costa Rica and Ethiopia, helped young girls in Thailand escape human trafficking, achieved nine years of sobriety, went on my eighth and ninth Christian medical missions to Nicaragua as Team Lead for the Optical Clinic, paid for eye surgery for two children afflicted with strabismus (crossed eyes), assisted Maria Fernanda Cuero through College in Ecuador, spoke Spanish while leading seven Nicaraguan men and women to accept Jesus Christ as their Savior, promoted sponsorship of impoverished children as a ChildFund representative at Thompson Square concerts throughout the tri-state area, repaired and measured the prescriptions of 2,737 donated eyeglasses for distribution around the world by Christian mission teams, volunteered to donate a kidney, single-handedly created and remotely maintained K2 Marine’s manufacturing and accounting software since 1996, wrote 647 pages (45 percent) of my short-story memoirs, provided reader eyeglasses for all the men at St. Benedict’s Homeless Shelter every five weeks, and a whole lot more. Oh yeah, and two-hour massages, which I have since increased from monthly to biweekly since I am now bereft of my professional psychotherapy. I told Dr. Perry that I choose and employ my massage therapists as psycho-therapists as well, baring and examining all the intimate details of my life while being pampered.

       In line with Dr. Basit, Dr. Harmon, and Dr. Vance before her, Dr. Perry likewise did not require me to see a therapist every three months as is expected of nearly all other patients at RiverValley. In fact, I told Dr. Perry, “I don’t have any issues with seeing a therapist. I’d just come in and waha them like I do you. I don’t have any problems to talk about. Whenever I encounter a problem, I take care of it right away. Besides, there are lots of people here who really need that time.” I repeated Dr. Harmon’s quote to her: “I wouldn’t dream of changing a treatment plan that’s working.”

       Dr. Perry emphatically replied, “I live by that.”

       I last saw Dr. Perry on November 19, 2018. Three weeks after that appointment with her, I received a letter dated 12/10/2018 telling me the following:

     Mental treatment is a partnership between the psychiatrist, therapist, and patient. As such, it is important for your mental health condition to be regularly evaluated and treated at scheduled appointments. As a minimum requirement, you must see a therapist at least every three (3) months and more often than this if recommended.

     During a recent review of your mental health record, it was discovered: you have not scheduled or kept appointments with your therapist or psychiatrist as recommended over the course of your treatment.

     At this point, it appears that you no longer wish to have your mental health conditions treated by RiverValley Behavioral Health.

       There were a couple more paragraphs, but I didn’t bother reading them. This termination letter was signed by “Dr. David L. Harmon, DO” who hadn’t even seen me for nearly two years. What the hell?! What happened to not changing a treatment plan that’s working?! He lied. Or did he simply pull a Flip Wilson and give me the shuck and jive?

       Furthermore, according to my records, I’ve only had to see a therapist two times at RiverValley over the past nine years. One time was to get back into RiverValley’s system in July 2015 after I had moved away for a short while. That was reasonable. The other was when RiverValley jammed a therapist into my usual treatment plan in September 2016.

       I suppose I could’ve gone down and talked to one of their receptionists about Dr. Harmon’s termination letter, but they didn’t know what they were talking about last time, so why would I think they’d know anything now?

       I sent Dr. Perry the following letter on December 20, 2018, along with a copy of Dr. Harmon’s notice of treatment termination:

Hi Dr. Perry,

     I received the enclosed letter this week. Has something changed since we talked on November 19^th? I have always kept my six-month appointments with Dr. Basit, Dr. Vance, Dr. Harmon, and you.

     I would really like to continue my “six-month plan” [as Dr. Perry called it] with you. If you could take care of this misunderstanding, I’d appreciate it. Please let me know before my treatment is terminated.

     You may email me or call my phone number below anytime to let me know where I stand.

     Thank you and Merry Christmas!

Scott

       It’s been 22 days now, and I’ve heard nothing from Dr. Perry. How could I possibly go from “an amazing person” who sincerely expressed to my psychiatrist in a Haiku poem that “Your care is precious” ... to KERSPLAT!? When I last saw Dr. Perry on November 19^th, she asked me to call the desk in April to make an appointment for May. Her last words to me were, “You really are an amazing person, Scott.”

       Really?

       It was a miserable Christmas and New Year waiting and wondering if Dr. Perry could or could not be bothered to contact me. Am I not worth a phone call to assure me that they would continue to provide the lithium that has enabled me to not only function normally, but that would also allow me to continue helping thousands of people locally, around the state, and throughout the world?

       I guess not.

       Perhaps Dr. Perry didn’t know about Dr. Harmon’s letter and didn’t receive mine as well. After countless hours of my analytical ruminations, Bobbie told me that I should give Dr. Perry the benefit of the doubt. I shared this story with my new physical/mental therapist Alicia during my two-hour massage session last Sunday, January 6^th. After I spilled RiverValley’s beans for nearly two hours, Alicia sided with Bobbie in support of Dr. Perry. In their optimistic light, and mine, there are lots of possibilities down that alley: the most obvious being that Dr. Perry resigned, got fired, or died before my letter arrived and/or before she had a chance to reply to me.

       Okay, here’s one possible scenario: Let’s presume that Dr. Perry found out about Dr. Harmon’s treatment termination letter after it was sent to me, and she likely stood in my defense. And let’s hypothesize that Dr. Harmon’s supposed jealousy over Dr. Perry’s fascination with my amazingness spurred him to lash out with “Live with it, biatch!” Under those circumstances, I could picture Dr. Perry slapping him silly and resigning in protest over my mistreatment. Yeah, that’s the ticket! Let’s go with it.

       At this point, it appears that RiverValley does not differentiate between bottom-dwellers and superstars: We’re all losers, and nobody merits bonus points. Nobody.

       That’s alright. For a time after this rejection, I began to feel that my bipolar disorder and my alcoholism had confined my potential—when, in fact, these two ailments are my greatest assets. Their illusory limitations have defied me to become the very best man that I can be. These handicaps are my leverage, my vault, toward ultimate inner bliss. I don’t need fanfare. The Lord has showered me with fountains of joy. Aye.

       It’s a pity that I might never have the opportunity to share with Dr. Perry what enabled me to accomplish all of those remarkably generous feats while still maintaining zero debt. I provided clean water for tens of thousands of people around the world by not buying a new car like most “well adjusted” people would’ve done. Instead, I sparingly repainted my weather-worn fourteen-year-old Altima, refurbished its glazed-over headlights, and had a mechanic fix everything that was “iffy.” My boss, Nelson, remarked, “Instead of looking like an old car that had been ridden hard, it looks like a well-cared-for older car now.” Besides, I prefer the satisfaction that I receive while driving it down the road and contrasting that with the waha-look-at-me feeling that a brand-new car would’ve provided.

       It occurred to me that this is the first time in nine years that I have considered drinking alcohol again. I do have that as a fallback as well. I know that alcohol is an effective treatment for my bipolar disorder—as long as I don’t try to control my alcohol intake. It worked for forty years, but I’ll see if I can score some lithium elsewhere before I resort to retrieving raw lithium from the South American Lithium Triangle or becoming a drunk again.

       It took me three weeks—with the help of my hero, Kevin McCallister (Home Alone)—to find the silver linings this time. Foremost, this has helped me see that I need to break my dependency on RiverValley, especially since they’re apt to shuck and jive. RiverValley’s fickle treatment plans have also encouraged me to study methods for extracting lithium from other compounds and to try alternative remedies for my bipolar disorder such as lithium orotate (available without a prescription), Essential Oils, and meditation. And not least of all, I needed to be sideswiped down off that “amazing” pedestal, anyway. God is amazing. I just get to have the fun of doing all these wondrous things that He not only made possible, He planned into existence billions of years ago through His Son, Jesus Christ. THAT’s amazing!

       All told, I will dearly miss my fan club at RiverValley. Their cheers inspired me to achieve beyond my wildest aspirations, including Dr. Harmon who set my passion for writing on fire when he scoured my manuscript and exclaimed, “Wow, this is really cool!!”

       Incidentally, I just called Bobbie from Lawrenceburg where I’m working on contract at Gardens Alive. She told me that I received my new passport today, so I’m good to go! Costa Rica and Ethiopia, here I come to save the day! Oh, yeah, and Mexico, but that’s another story.

       Thanks to the doctors at RiverValley Behavioral Health, I’m having more fun than ever at age 62.