Fired

Author © Scott D. Zachary

       There is no question in my mind that RiverValley Behavioral Health’s “six-month plan” for treating my bipolar disorder paid big dividends over the past nine and a half years, especially after I sprouted the bright idea of preparing my “Accomplishments and Plans” document for the psychiatrists before each half-year appointment. (Little did I know that I was preparing my own treatment plan for them.) I’ve often wondered exactly how much bearing my anticipation of reporting to the doctors and their subsequent “Wow!” have had on the fruit of my life.

       I thought about the psychiatrists’ exuberant reactions to my bountiful results a lot—both the reactions that they had already gasped and the ones they were going to gawk when they saw what new marvelous initiatives I’d concocted. I think a good deal of my spirited efforts were sparked by what I call “The Wow Factor.” How much? Who’s to say.

       The psychiatrists at RiverValley may have received as much icing on their cake as I did on mine. Dr. Harmon once asked me how I was doing when I walked into his office. I replied, “Fantastic!” He mumbled, “Finally.” Dr. Harmon’s response was obviously in reference to the way my response contrasted to all of his other recent patients. At the end of that session, after I had blown him away with my bag of newly accomplished goodwill initiatives, Dr. Harmon said, “I’d love to see you every week, but I’m going to make your next appointment for six months from now, instead.” I juiced his psychiatric enzymes, so to speak. I inspired him, too! I have no doubt that my enthusiasm carried over to Dr. Harmon’s treatment of other patients. That’s why he wanted to see me every week.

       The same goes for Dr. Perry. When I told her that I get excited about coming to see her, Dr. Perry responded with, “I get excited too, Scott, when I see your name on my schedule! I’m always eager to hear about your amazing accomplishments.” In my book, excited anticipation produces more positive fruit than any other stimulant.

       And that mutually super-uplifting hour-and-forty-five-minute session that I had with Dr. Vance speaks for itself.

       It’s a pity that the upper management at RiverValley quixotically changed my treatment plan from semi-annual appointments with my psychiatrist to eight appointments per year solely to corral everyone into the same one-size-fits-all treatment plan. Why would they change my treatment plan without considering my exemplary performance? Dr. Harmon had declared, “I wouldn’t dream of changing a treatment plan that’s working.” And Dr. Perry affirmed, “I live by that.” Nonetheless, it’s done. My wings have been clipped.

       Using Bobbie (my angelic wife) as my sounding board, I debated at length as to whether or not I should make an appointment at RiverValley to see if they would reconsider their having revoked my long-standing exemption from therapy every three months. If I did and they said “no,” I intuitively knew that I would be fit to be tied, and my desire to do good for others and myself would be substantially replaced with spite, at least until I could work through it. Thus, I decided against giving RiverValley heads-up.

       During my analysis, I seriously contemplated suing RiverValley for their malpractice. I felt as though their management had stolen an invaluable coping mechanism from me by blatantly and negligently disrupting my treatment plan without regard to me. I resoundingly trashed that idea when I considered the fact that Dr. Vance had saved my life and Dr. Perry had given me wings. But that didn’t mean I had to tolerate RiverValley’s subsequent incompetence.

       I called the receptionist at RiverValley on Tuesday, June 11, 2019, at 2:30 p.m., stating, “Hello, this is Scott Zachary. I’d like to cancel my appointment on August sixth at one o’clock.”

       I could hear the receptionist typing, and then she asked, “Would you like to reschedule that appointment?”

       “Nope. You guys are fired.” I could hear a chuckle commence before I said, “Thank you very much” and hung up.

       According to my phone history, that entire conversation took 25 seconds. Upon hanging up, I instantly knew that I had made the right decision. A tremendous burden lifted from my shoulders and my heart. Guess what I did at 2:32 p.m.? I called the front desk for the therapists and fired them, too. There was no angst in my voice nor in my thought process. Just resolution.

       It’s also a shame that the management at RiverValley may never know why I fired them. Unfortunately, highly educated people tend to be so self-righteous that you can’t teach them anything, especially about their errant ways in the fundamentals of their profession. (I’ve often seen this phenomenon in my field of computer science.) It’s sort of like what television’s Dr. House once said: “Relative to its size, the barnacle has the largest penis of any animal.” Yes, their applied logic makes as much sense as my simile, perhaps even less.

       What’s sad is that most of RiverValley’s other patients don’t have my wherewithal to manage through and beyond RiverValley’s erratic treatment.

       What’s fantabulous is that RiverValley’s collaboration with me contributed toward my helping thousands of people around the world. And then RiverValley had to go and try to cage my initiative. Silly wabbits. Any good manager knows that attempting to harness an extraordinary employee’s initiative is like trying to control the direction and intensity of the wind. The same goes for a patient, a child, or anyone else who is achieving far beyond all expectations.

       Nevertheless, I will have to find another cheering section to fill my inspirational tank with rocket fuel now that the wind has blown RiverValley’s train off its tracks.

       Just when my reserves of inspiration were running low, I received the best present ever. Bobbie and I had sponsored the drilling of two water wells in India through Alpha Ministries in the fall of 2018. Yesterday, I picked up a large package at the post office from Kelly Urbani at Alpha Ministries. It contained two beautiful framed pictures of the villagers who encircled the water wells that we funded, along with testimonials from several women in each village about how the wells had dramatically changed their lives for the better. Bear in mind that these villagers in northern India are not allowed to drink from the local well because they are Christians; therefore, they had to walk for miles to retrieve filthy, contaminated water. Also enclosed in my package were heartfelt thanks from the Christian pastors for those villages. Now, all of that is pure, unadulterated inspiration!

       God certainly does provide. Aptly, Matthew 11 says, “Come to me all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens.”