Q. Define Bizarre.
Ans. I see a man standing on the moon and peeing on the Earth.
I looked around. Faces struck in windows, mouths wide open and eager hands stretched out, with periodic pronation and supination waiting to grab you in the very first catch. This was the impression the Bolly/ Tolly- woods and friends who already happened to visit the Psychiatric wards (especially the ones who got slapped while taking a patient’s history) left on me. I didn’t find any of them though it was easier to recognize the wards, as it was the only one with the entrance closed and a guard attending it, at all times.
I ran across the hall with ‘symmetrically’ parallel beds occupied by ‘unsymmetrical’ minds as they moved their eyeballs from one corner to the other, from where laughter arose, which seemed more intelligent and sane over the others that filled the hall, which is perhaps, the venue for my class. I was alone, but not scared. I opened the door slowly, just to make enough space for one single eye of a suspicious peeping Tom. The room was fully packed and not surprisingly, everybody was already examining this innocent eye through the narrow hole. Now, knowing that I am late, scared, I said nothing. The bespectacled, rough bearded man, the only one not in an apron other than the patient, who seemed to be the oldest and the wisest of all brought his double chin to his chest at once and again. The classic non-verbal! As I entered, he looked towards a serious young doctor who continued . . .
“ Mr. Balasubramaniam, aged 32 years, who hails from the Shimoga district of Karnataka presents to Kasturba Hospital on 16/07/09 with the chief complaints of . . .[which generally is the starting point of unbelievable non-existent, non- English, this time struck me like a thunderbolt!]
I see God (full stop) My heart (hyphen) his gateway.”
My jaw fell to the ground. He continued-
“ History of presenting illness-
I feel all energetic and believe in the capability of achieving anything I want . . .
The people of this country need a great leader and I am ready to give it to them . .
After my BSc Chemistry, I felt closer to him [G O D] . . .”
Past history-
h/o thorn prick. Didn’t feel like going to school.
I was tempted enough to grab a copy of the patient’s history. The duration of the conversation with the patient was recorded as an unbelievable whole 2 and half hours! Further, in the report-
Content: {All the dominant preoccupations of the subject including ideas of reference, persecution, grandeur, worthlessness, hopelessness, guilt, sin, nihilism, negation, love, control, infidelity, etcetera}
“ I feel the power of ten [10] people within me.”
Insight: {Awareness, attribution and acceptance of intervention}
“ I have no problem. Ask God, if you want.”
As I flipped through the pages, a lot of thoughts were randomly being fired in my mind. For once, I, funnily, thought-
Well, here is an ideal Indian and where should he be?
Y-e-a-h! The Psychiatry ward.
The Professor closed his eyes half way through the presentation, life less till the moment, suddenly erupted from his old wooden chair and exploded.
“ You! The young man in the blue, yes, blue checks”, he said. “ Is Malaria curable?”
My class mate took the chance and ran down the entire list,” Chloroquine, Quinine, Atovaquone, Proguanil . . .”
“ Oh? That’s impressive. So what are these drugs for? Against whom are your murderous intentions?”
The room giggled in union.
“I mean the cause of your Malaria, young man. The cause!”
“The protozoan parasite. The species of Plasmodium. “
“Exactly.”
“Let me ask you one more question, give me a cure for a mental disorder. Okay. I’ll be lenient this time. Any mental disorder. Any!
Silence.
“ What happened?” He laughed violently. “I wont blame you. Humans haven’t found the antidote for emotion yet. Emotions have no reason.
To find a cure, you need the cause. When your target is lame, bizarre, retrospective, where is the word ‘cure’. There is no mental illness with a cure”, he declared. “ So is Hypertension, Diabetes mellitus, other chronic diseases, and psychiatric disorders, controllable, BUT are not curable.”
Suddenly, the nurse in the milk white uniform entered and spoke in a hurry.
“Doctor, doctor! The patient in bed no.32 is trying to kill herself again!”
“Aah! That old woman! Not again!” he said, flung the door wide-open and stormed out.
