The Troubled Therapist

February 1, 2010

Ethics, Wii Bowling, Big Pharma and Butterfingers

Filed under: comedy,humor,Uncategorized — Chuck A Stetson @ 4:13 PM
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Should a therapist be worried about morals and standards pertaining to the doctor patient relationship?  Unless one who practices Freud’s madness has good legal counsel on retainer, or high visibility as a cult figure fueled by patient transference, ethics are non-problematic. This conclusion is conclusive; I look upon my patients as nothing more than food feeding the psychometrics of my curiosity pertaining to psychobabble fueled by a psychogenesis that I transfer back to my patients via psychological dependence and psychoneurosis. And if my cult of personality comes into question, I’ve got the key to psychotomimetic psychosis—samples of various pills heaped upon me by Big Pharma sales representatives, or a prescription pad and verifiable DEA number.

Now I’m sure that skeptics of psychiatry [non-scientologists and Tom Cruise junkies who think his acting skills are worthy of recognition beyond a Thetan buzz generated by an over indulgence of Butterfingers laced with tetahydrocannabinol don’t count beyond the number two] will decry my methods—my ethics. But since I’m ethically challenged and ethnically ethnocentristic with no regard for ethonohistrionics or an ability to score well at Wii bowling, I maintain that my patients will welcome a real cool buzz or fuzzy feeling that will help further isolate and detach them from their feelings. That one extra pill [class II narcotic or any variation of benzodiazepine] prescribed as needed, added to an array of mind numbing antipsychotic and anti-depression meds is often called for in matters that really matter. Now perhaps if I try Wii bowling left-handed wearing 3-D glasses….


January 29, 2010

HIPAA and Play-Doh Huffing

Filed under: comedy,humor,Uncategorized — Chuck A Stetson @ 4:36 PM
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Sometimes I need to remind myself that the HIPAA laws have nothing to do with hippopotamus’ or hip replacement surgery. Imagine my surprise when of my former patients filed suit against me for revealing sensitive information concerning said patients addiction to huffing Play-Doh while simultaneously masturbating and listening to the Canadian National Anthem sung in Mandarin. Hey… I thought it would make for great comedy at the Please Say Something Funny Comedy Club and Sex Rehab Clinic’s open mike—held each Wednesday evening after the Nymphomaniac Poetry Slam. I was wrong.

The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996 [HIPAA] Privacy and Security Rules has many rules I would have read had I not been concerned with not reading them. Patient confidentiality? Hey, I respect the doctor/patient privilege. I make all of my patients sign confidentiality forms concerning my confidentiality as it pertains to my ex-wives, ex-lovers, ex-secretaries [ex-wives and ex-lovers] and the occasional midget mud-wrestler who wanders into my office just to disrupt the disruption of the chaos that is serious psycho-analysis. Like I said, hippos and hip replacement surgery—I’m not perfect. I know I shouldn’t have used Peter Swerk’s real name when joking about his Play-Doh huffing while simultaneously masturbating and listening to the Canadian National Anthem sung in Mandarin.  It’s not like I said he was the same Peter Swerk who owned and operated Sewrk’s Swedish Massage and Barber College in Hartford. Oops…!

January 27, 2010

The Fear of Fearing Fear or Mick Jagger

Filed under: comedy,humor,Uncategorized — Chuck A Stetson @ 3:25 PM
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Treating phobias are annoying unless they are dogging a patient with good medical insurance or a hefty trust fund. Let’s not forget potential patients who also willing to pay me $175 an hour for a forty-five minute session I usually start ten minutes late. Their criterion for treatment is the ability to pay in cash—no credit cards [American Express and Visa have contracted a hit on me]—or grape juice bars.

Now phobia is just an irrational fear of fear: attach a suffix and you can fear most anything. Arachnophobia. Hydrophobia. Sexphobia. Coca Cola-phobia. Mick Jagger-phobia. You get the idea. I do, but I fear fearing not understanding.

Drugs [preferably prescribed], alcohol [preferably micro-brewed beer or anything bourbon] and other distractions not listed in the DSM-IV [see: 292.0 thru 292.9] are a good start in conquering anything phobic. But if you fear anything in the previous sentence, I’m here to assist you. I understand that fearing fear can be fearful and downright frightening. My ability to remain objective despite a subjective conclusion to the contrary makes me as a therapist the ideal solution. And if you’re agoraphobic, I’ll come to you. Just remember that my fees are non-inclusive of traveling expenses [chauffeured limos]. If I must travel by bus… well forget it. I’m bus-phobic.

My practice is open.

January 26, 2010

A Bouncy Ball of Confusion

Filed under: comedy,humor,Uncategorized — Chuck A Stetson @ 7:55 PM
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Have you ever thought you were out of touch with reality—you know walking through life tripping over your shoelaces while wearing loafers? No problem… just wear sandals. Barefooting it will also work, except when you realize that you’re germ-phobic with OCD tendencies for clean feet and Bette Midler posters. Then you wear sneakers and seek out the services of a good therapist. Me? Maybe. Freud? Shit no, he’s dead; but Jung does offer his services to those who believe in disbelief.

A warning must be issued—the AMA and the Benevolent Association for Captain Kangaroo insists—my ability to diagnose and treat the foibles of mental illness is to be considered carefully before digesting any of my advice or Crayola crayons dipped in milk chocolate accented with horseradish and SSRs. That said, I’m here to help….

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