#Neuropsychiatrist Near Me
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Dr. Mahesh Mishra - Neuropsychiatrist in Jaipur
Located conveniently, Dr. Mishra's clinic serves as a beacon for those seeking Psychiatry Near Me in Jaipur, offering accessible care and compassionate support. Whether it's mood disorders, cognitive impairments, or other mental health challenges, patients can trust Dr. Mahesh Mishra for expert Mental Disorders Treatment in Jaipur. With a commitment to excellence and a patient-centered approach, Dr. Mishra strives to improve the lives of individuals facing neurological and psychiatric conditions.
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Are you struggling with depression and anxiety and wondering how to find the best psychiatrist near you? If you are located in Delhi and seeking treatment for depression and anxiety, As a highly skilled psychiatrist, Dr. Anil Yadav has a reputation for providing excellent care to patients struggling with mental health issues.
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Anxiety treatment in jaipur
The best neuropsychiatrist in Vaishali Nagar, Jaipur. The most renowned and skilled psychiatrist is Dr. Shariq Qureshi. Following his graduation from the renowned Central Institute of Psychiatry with an MBBS and DPM, he passed the MRCPSYCH A and B exams at London's Royal College. With more than 14 years of experience, he is a well-known leading neuropsychiatrist in Jaipur with special abilities for identifying and managing mental health issues. A psychiatrist is a brain-mind doctor or masochist who specializes in depression, anxiety, GAD, bipolar, panic, OCD, phobia, addiction, schizophrenia, psychosis, headaches, and sexual disorders. Visit our clinic in C Scheme, close to SMS Hospital, Jaipur, if you're looking for the "best psychiatrist in Jaipur" or "psychiatrist near me.
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Dr Shariq Qureshi- Best Psychiatrist in Jaipur
J, 2/37, Pandya Hospital, Mahavir Marg, opposite Jai Club, C Scheme, Jaipur, Rajasthan 302001
07027815567
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Depression and anxiety clinic near me
Psykart India provides a variety of self-help resources, such as articles, videos, and exercises, to help you manage your mental health. They use a variety of evidence-based therapies, such as cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and mindfulness-based therapy. If medication is necessary, Depression & anxiety clinic, Psykart can connect you with a psychiatrist who can prescribe medication and monitor your progress.
Qualified To Provide Solution Of The Problem You Are Living With.
If you are looking for specialized individualized brain health care, Psykart clinic is a great resource. They can help you to find the best possible care for your needs.
We Are Committed To Helping Our Clients Through Every Brain Health Challenge Towards Spectacular Results
We are proud of the reputation we have earned for clinically excellent treatment within an environment that encourages long-term healing and recovery.
Through a treatment process delivered by compassion and empathy, we create a safe environment where you can truly feel comfortable. Our team of experts with whom we have partnered is dedicated to your overall well-being and journey to holistic recovery!
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Source - https://brainhealthclinicss.wordpress.com/2024/03/13/depression-and-anxiety-clinic-near-me/
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Neuropsychiatrist Near Me in Battle Creek
Borderline Personality Disorder | Online Consultation for Mental Health at Behavioral Health Care, P.C
Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is a serious mental illness marked by unstable moods, behavior, and relationships. In 1980, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders, Third Edition (DSM-III) listed BPD as a diagnosable illness for the first time. Most psychiatrists and other mental health professionals use the DSM to diagnose mental illnesses.
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Here know how Dr. Vivek Pratap Singh is the best neuropsychiatrist in Patna, Bihar. Best Psychiatrist in Kankarbagh, Patna. Former Psychiatrist in AIIMS Patna. Best Child Psychiatrist in Patna.
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What to Expect from A Counselling Therapist Near Me?
A couple visits the Best Marriage Counsellors near me with a lot of expectations. Sometimes expectations fulfill, sometimes don’t. Fulfilling expectations also relies on a problem a couple is going through. Each couple may have a different experience.
Visiting your first session of the Best Couples Counselling near me can be scary. It may feel awkward to both the partners as well.
Here’s what to expect from a Counselling Therapist near me:
Uncover Basic Information About the Relationship:
In a first session, a counsellor spends time in knowing both individuals personally as well as together as a couple. It is quite important for a counselling therapist near me to know partners on a personal level as a lot of things depend on it.
Questions regarding your childhood or how you met each other, etc. may be asked initially. Many couples feel clueless or discouraged as a bunch of questions being asked. But, as the session progresses the actual therapy continues.
Finding The Root Cause of the Problems:
There can be various reasons a couple opts for the Best Couples Counselling near me. Common reasons include:
Communication problems
Sexual difficulties
Conflicts about child rearing or blended families
Substance abuse
Anger
Infidelity
Physical or mental health conditions
Finances
Unemployment
Changing roles, such as retirement
No similarity could be found in everyone’s problem, but identifying the root cause of a specific problem is done by a female psychologist near me. Your therapist could soon bring to light that your relationship needs a strong foundation of trust and healthy communication.
As you share your interests, your advisor will search for basic, associating subjects.
Goals and a Timeline:
After identifying your relationship problems, a lady psychologist near me asks to set goals and timeline for your therapy. In fact, a therapists guide you for doing it so. Each couple’s objectives will appear to be unique. Possibly you need to begin to fall in love again or see each other better. A portion of your objectives can focus on specific skills as well.
Recollect that your objectives can advance throughout your therapy. So your underlying objective won’t really be your ultimate objective.
When you spread out your goals for therapy, you and you’re the Best Marriage Counsellors near me will build up a timeline. This will happen once you effectively experience a couple of meetings and they improve thought of where your relationship stands.
Adopting New Techniques to Improve a Relationship:
The main part of a marriage counselling is learning new aptitudes that will profit your relationship past the counselling sessions.
Some of the important skills that you’ll learn from a counselling therapist near me are:
Communication skills
Patience and forgiveness
Trust and honesty
Selflessness
Stress-management
Counselling sessions will realize the importance of these skills and how to use them for a healthy relationship.
Attending Couple and Individual Counselling Sessions:
Sometimes an individual counselling session becomes the need for an hour. Although couple’s therapy is the basis of counselling sessions, individual sessions help you realize the things that you need to work on yourself.
Personal sessions are a chance, yet no couple treatment is fruitful with only personal meetings. To be effective, you have to ensure both you and your life partner is focused on the sessions.
Outside of Sessions:
Working on a relationship does not mean it has to be only during the counselling sessions. The major part of a counselling therapy lies in what happens in between the sessions.
The Best Couples Counselling near me could assign you some tasks, homework, etc. to perform between each session.
These assignments could be:
Go out on a date without your phones.
Get intimate with your partner.
Keep a log of your emotions and any arguments that arise.
Read a self-help book together and hold discussions.
A definitive objective of this homework is to get you to a point where you can work out your issues all alone outside of counselling sessions. You’ll begin little with a couple of tasks yet in the end, you’ll have the option to handle any issue that emerges.
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[Alice Nine Fanfiction] ASYLUM
“You can’t say this world is kind to people. That’s how it is.”
Saga's body freezes instantly, paralyzed. His throat is choked painfully in order to endure a scream that refuses to come out of his chest, a feeling of intense fear gripping him but he is unable to do anything about it. Shou said he means no harm, but Saga has no reason to believe him. If the family that gave birth to and raised you could be so cruel, is there any guarantee that a stranger like Shou won't do the same?
Chapter 01 [Lingering]
Author: beautiful-de4mity
Fandom: Alice Nine
A/n: inspired by ASYLUM that is always incredibly stunning during lives and I have always been captivated by Saga x Shou’s relationship both on stage and real life. This is my first time ever writing Alice Nine’s fanfiction in English, I’m going to need maaaaaaaany critics 😥💦
Inspired song: ASYLUM from PLANET NINE Album
Disclaimer: Alice Nine belongs to themselves wwwww
At two fifteen in the afternoon, all of Shou's classes for the day finally ended. In one deep breath, the handsome young man tidies up all his belongings and hurriedly moves outside the campus. He should have met with Amano sensei at the private central hospital in Shibuya at one o'clock, but Professor Hisashi, his lecturer of Psychological Testing and Measurement, suddenly asked for additional classes after lunch since he has to attend a seminar out of town next week.
Shou's heart skips a beat groggily as he reaches the nearest bus stop, opens his cellphone and checks the reply email from Amano sensei two days ago containing an invitation to meet the man in his office. Shou fell at the first glance with that young neuropsychiatrist—since he was still a freshman to be exact. At that time, the campus held a seminar on Speech Language Disorder by inviting several experts as speakers and Amano Tora was one of them. Shou recalls vividly how fascinated he was watching the young doctor's every move up to the podium, explaining the material on Aphasia for about thirty minutes in a casual manner contrasted with his deep voice. From then on, Shou was secretly determined to focus his studies on neuropsychiatry and began to diligently read articles in that field.
Shou ends his flashback when the bus that is going to take him to the hospital arrived. In a bit of a hurry, Shou gets on the bus and pays using IC card before sitting in the back seat near the window, still trying to calm his nervousness. In the past few weeks, Shou has been working hard on a research proposal on mutism (after reading an article of which Amano Tora is one of the contributing authors) and sending it to the young doctor and asking him to become the instrument validator. Shou didn't even update the contents of his YouTube channel to make a perfect proposal, he was overjoyed when Amano sensei replied to his email and invited him to meet!
The trip to the hospital is painfully slow for the impatient Shou. The young man keep tapping his feet on the bus floor, tidying his shirt, his brown hair, and muttering what words he will say to Amano sensei later. As soon as the bus stops at its destination, Shou jumps excitedly from his seat and hurries off. By his pair of long slender legs, Shou has no trouble getting to the hospital building in less than ten minutes.
“Anou, sumimasen. May I know where the psychiatry ward is?" asks Shou at the hospital information center.
A young female staff member smiles kindly and explains to him where the psychiatric ward is. Shou rushes to follow the female staff's direction while taking out his cellphone again from his pocket to inform Amano sensei that he is already in the hospital.
"Ohara?" Shou's head automatically lifted when someone calls his name as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. His heart is racing when he realizes it is Amano sensei.
"Ha—hai," Shou bows a little too deeply. "Amano sensei, thank you for accepting my research proposal and agreeing to become a validator," he stammers.
Amano sensei chuckles as he waves his hand, “Don't be so formal with me. Just call me Tora sensei or Tora. I'm not that old."
"Eh?" Shou's beautiful eyes widened to find how casual this person he’s always idolized. "Ii desu ka?"
Amano sensei or Tora then nods and invites Shou who is still a little bit overwhelmed to his office. Shou silently watches the side profile of the young doctor; their height is not much different so that their shoulders almost brush, Tora's stern facial lines and unlike Japanese men in general make him even more charming, his enormous figure is clad in a dark shirt with folded sleeves up to elbows and the top two buttons of his shirt are loosely open. Shou’s face starts to heat up and he immediately looks away.
"Please come in," Tora opens the door to his room.
Tora's workspace is large enough to accommodate a set of assembled PCs on his working desk surrounded by paperwork and important documents. There is also a cup of cold, half-drunken coffee and an ashtray filled with cigarette butts. Shou raises an eyebrow at how 'carefree' this young doctor is, in fact he doesn't reflect a doctor-like personality at all. Or is it because his area of expertise is psychology that's why Tora has this happy-go-lucky attitude? Shou subconsciously starts analyzing in his head.
"Please sit down, why are you staying there?" Tora chuckles at the empty chair across his work chair.
"Ah, yes, alright ~" Shou sits up awkwardly.
"Hmm, so I've read your proposal and I have to admit it's the most interesting topic I've read in the past year, let alone an undergraduate student who compiled it," Tora opens the conversation.
Receiving such praise, Shou can’t help but blushes.
"What attracted you to mutism?"
Shou immediately swallows hard. There's no way he can say that the reason he brought up this topic was because of the article he read last month in which Tora was one of the contributors. Shou was silent for a long time before simply answering the truth.
"I—read an article written by Professor Matsuda about mutism in traffic accident patients and was interested in exploring the topic."
Tora lifts an eyebrow, "Oh," the young doctor rises from his chair and takes something from the bookshelf, Tora waves a print out of a twenty pages-thick paper. "Case Study of Neurogenic Mutism in Traffic Accident Patients with Brain Damage, 2016?"
Shou nods, his hand feels cold.
"I was involved in this research too, it is very interesting indeed." Tora smiles then sits back down on his chair, Shou lets out a sigh of relief. “Actually I invited you here with a wish to offer something, too, if you don't mind."
A slipping sensation like jumping two stairs at once occupies Shou’s belly when he heard that. "What is it, sensei?"
***
You can’t say this world is kind to people;
that’s how it is.
Did I lose something? I don’t know what it is,
in this empty dissonance.
The surroundings are always cold even though the air conditioner is not turned on and these white clothes cover his whole body. The young man is sitting in the corner, staring at a small aquarium with bluish neon lights located near a large glass window where people usually watch him and take notes on his every move. It doesn't stop there, every corner of the room has CCTV connected to a computer somewhere in this big hospital, he doesn't know, he doesn't care. He just wants to live quietly. He just wants some warmth.
His bony arm is lifted, revealing an iron plaque on his wrist with some information about him engraved on the surface. The young man is stunned to stare at it for a moment.
Name: SAGA
Age: 18
Admission date: 2019/05/12
Two people has just come and study him through the glass window, catching his attention. One is Amano Tora, one of the neuropsychiatrists who is assigned to take care of him, while the other one—Saga tilts his face intrigued—a tall, slender fine-looking young man with brown hair and a pair of big beautiful eyes who is now smiling at him. Amano Tora seems to explain something to the beautiful-eyed young man, they seem to be engaged in a serious conversation. A few moments later, the door opens and the two men enter to greet him.
“How are you doing today, Saga?” asks Amano Tora in a friendly tone that always make him feels weirdly relaxed and safe.
He nods curtly while his gaze darts on the other young man standing beside Amano Tora.
“Ah, yes. I bring a friend today. He is Ohara Shou and he is going to assist me in treating you from now on,” Amano Tora explains. “He’s an undergraduate student, you guys are the same age, I’m sure you can get along well in no time.” The doctor flashes a charming smile.
The beautiful-eyed young man named Shou comes forward and introduces himself, “Hajimemashite, Saga san, I’m Ohara Shou. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu!”
Shou is confused because Saga doesn't respond and stares at him intensely as if judging him from head to toe. Even so, Saga's dark irises fascinate him. Shou can clearly see Saga's jawline because his body is so thin, his eye bags are sunken and blackened, and his short dark hair is messy that almost covers his entire forehead, his body looks thin and frail. Earlier, Tora had already explained Saga's condition. He is a mutism patient who has been under the supervision of a hospital research team due to years of physical abuse from his own family. Until now, the research team has not been able to determine whether Saga’s case is a neurogenic mutism or the other type of mutism. The MRI scan showed that he had brain trauma which should not have affected his speech ability, but from the day the children welfare discovered him and admitted him to this hospital, Saga hasn't spoken a word to anyone.
After a few minutes allowing himself to be glared at by Saga, Shou kneels in front of the skinny young man and smiles gently at him, causing Saga to move back in fear. “It’s okay, I mean you no harm.” Carefully, Shou tries to reach Saga’s hands and holds them softly.
Saga's body freezes instantly, paralyzed. His throat is choked painfully in order to endure a scream that refuses to come out of his chest, a feeling of intense fear gripping him but he is unable to do anything about it. Shou said he means no harm, but Saga has no reason to believe him.
If the family that gave birth to and raised you could be so cruel, is there any guarantee that a stranger like Shou won't do the same?
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Primum non Nocere
Summary:
"First, do no harm."
Part 1 of Medicus.
Sansa is the new neurosurgeon assigned to work in East Watch by the Sea Veterans Memorial Medical Center where Jon Snow has been working for five years as a Trauma Surgeon. Sansa doesn’t seem to fit in very well and is seen as indifferent and unfeeling, while Jon is well loved. A case brings them together and Jon starts to understand that they were all wrong about Sansa’s heart being colder than the Wall
Primum non Nocere
Jon
12:10am
ER, East Watch by the Sea Veterans Memorial Medical Center
It had been one of the busiest shifts he’s ever had. Being in a more secluded area, East Watch by the Sea didn’t get that many patients especially this era of peace. But this day was exceptionally toxic. A freak accident at Castle Black involving the winch the Watchers used gave and broke, sending five that were on it plummeting twenty feet down and over five more Watchers below, the wreck stretching to injure ten more.
It was chaos in the E.R., especially for an understaffed center and this all had to happen on my shift.
Stretchers upon stretchers were wheeled in, three I’ve already declared dead on arrival, while Val, the E.R. specialist was busy declaring four more to join my three while the others were lucky to have survived with only minor injuries.
All hands were on deck for the carnage, as blood, snow, and dirt painted the septic floors soon, as the familiar stench of all three mixed with that of death and dying filled the room as did the sounds of pain, panic, and order echoed against the white walls.
I had just finished setting the bones of a young Watcher, a teenager from his looks when the blaring horn of an ambulance nearing was heard, as it did for several trips back and forth already.
I looked over and saw Val trying to revive another Watcher, her eyes glued to the monitor showing the trace, spiking with each pump, her intern made as he took turns with a nurse in doing compressions. Val’s expression grim and we both knew that the moment they stopped pumping, the spike in the trace would too.
I gave her a gesture that meant I would handle the new patient and she gave a nod of gratitude before she ordered the last-ditch effort of another epi to be given.
Pulling my stained gloves off, pumping an antiseptic on my hands quickly before I changed into new ones, I pulled my surgical mask down and waited by the double doors with the nurses at the ready.
Once the ambulance was parked and the EMTs were swift to open the backdoor of the ambulance, we were greeted with the sight of another Watcher, barely recognizable under all that blood and swelling that was starting on his face, one EMT bagging him, while two were pushing the stretcher down the ramp and into the ER.
I ordered Satin, one of the nurses to prepare the intubation kit and another to set up a double line while I rushed to examine the patient as we wheeled him to one of the gurneys, curtains hoisting at once to accommodate us as Grenn, I recognized as one of the EMTs endorsed quickly while I checked for pulse then breathing. Pulse was there but his breathing almost nonexistent without the bag. Satin came back with the ET kit and I slipped on a sterile glove quickly while Satin handed me the laryngoscope, two other nurses working to get in two lines and another was inserting a catheter while I intubated. Sweeping the tongue gently with the blade, I thanked the gods that I was able to view the trachea at once. I pushed the tube in and pulled the stylet off, putting on my steth immediately to check if I was in. Satin bagged, two rapid ones and pause then repeat as I checked each quadrant. I nodded once satisfied and helped them secure the tube while I continued my examination.
“We almost didn’t see him. Half buried under all the rubble. His head took the brunt of the hit. GCS not looking good, only responds to pain stimuli and his left seems weaker than his right but we’re not sure if it’s because of the physical injuries or if it’s more. Broken ribs on the left as well. He wasn’t breathing when we found him, pulse is erratic but it’s strong,” he explained.
“What’s his name?” I asked while I immediately took out my penlight and checked his pupils. They were anisocoric, not good.
“Waymar Royce,” Grenn answered.
I nodded and began patting his shoulder. “Waymar, Waymar can you hear me?” No response. I pressed against his hand. “If you can hear me, Waymar, squeeze my hand. Can you do that? Squeeze my hand or open your eyes.” Nothing.
I began to rub at his sternum and I let out a breath of relief to see his swollen eyes fluttering open, his hands moving towards his chest, noting his right was stronger than the left, while an audible sound of grunting left his lips.
“We need to page neuro,” I almost didn’t want to say, knowing we only had one on board and she had just left an hour ago after her own twenty-four shift. But we had no other choice. This looked like a bleed and she’d have to operate. “He needs to get a CT and some X-rays while we wait.” Knowing it wasn’t wise to leave a neuro patient alone, I volunteered to come wheel him down to radio with them. “Let me know at once if you get Dr. Stark.”
Pyp, my other nurse frowned but nodded despite knowing that we should be grateful to have her onboard. Dr. Sansa Stark, worked as both neurologist and neurosurgeon and was overworked enough as it is because she was the only one for the whole western North. That and she was so skilled – genius, to be honest that I swear most of the patients here in our hospital were hers, some traveling from beyond the Neck to seek her out. Well, we did have my great-uncle Dr. Aemon Targaryen, as our neuropsychiatrist but he was already ten years from his retirement, only entertaining some calls but he clearly praised Dr. Stark when she came on board.
Dr. Stark had a great promising career working in Visenya Hill Medical. Top of her class in Citadel University, the number one medical school in Westeros, was prided for having the finest hands for surgery that everyone thought she’d have a go at Plastics with her almost invisible stitching skills, and not to mention, the looks to make her aesthetic practice more than believable. Sansa Stark was painfully beautiful. Everyone was shocked when she chose to brave it out amidst the male dominated field of neurosurgery, even cutting her hair close to a shave as all male neurosurgeons did during residency without a shred of complaint. She'd have shaved it all off if she had to as was the rite of passage for them but her mother fiercely objected and lobbied high and low for her daughter's rights to stay in the program. That caused her some problems from the traditionalists, but she proved them all wrong when she emerged to be on top again. And she's since, grown her hair past her shoulders once more.
Still, especially in the conservative North, no matter how much she achieved, somehow, she was still not taken seriously by the senior staff – doctors and nurses alike. Despite the number of patients that sought her service, the referrals were always late and done only when there was no other choice, opting to call Dr. Aemon first who would hand them over to Sansa. This was very insulting but Sansa never complained. Just worked.
Worked and worked. She was all business and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her outside the hospital these three months that we’ve had her here. She usually stays in her apartment, her dog keeping her company. I knew because I had the unit across from hers. But the rare times I saw her smile it was with her patients. And they weren’t fake ones. They were always sincere and I knew that Sansa wasn’t the frigid Ice Queen that people make her out to be.
I wish I did more to help her out. Sure, I would chastise the staff when they talked behind her back enough that they never spoke against her when I was there.
Pyp in particular grumbled though one time. “You don’t have to defend her just because she’s your cousin, Jon. She’s a snobby princess who thinks she’s better than us.”
The glare I gave him then made sure no one ever questioned why I looked out for her. All except her.
As we made our way towards Radiology, I remembered a sort of conversation we had when she was only two weeks into her stay here.
We were in the scrub room, washing our hands and arms after a joint surgery when she suddenly spoke to me.
“You don’t have to you know,” she whispered coolly suddenly while she ran her arm under the spout, not looking at me.
I was drying my arms and hands when she spoke, I almost dropped the sheet. “Have to what?”
She took a moment before continuing, grabbing a disposable drying sheet of her own. “Look out for me. I can take care of myself.”
Oh.
I crumpled the sheet and threw it on the disposal. “I know you can.”
The tension in her shoulders that I didn’t see before suddenly gave – at least slightly as she nodded. “Thanks. I know you mean well, but you don’t have to.”
I almost sighed but decided to grab another sheet and hand it to her. “I know I don’t have to.”
She looked at me then and I almost faltered under her the intensity of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen – eyes that were filled with pride, anger, confusion, and deep sadness.
I managed to pull a corner of my mouth up as I offered her the sheet but she didn’t even blink as she continued to study me, eyes never leaving my own.
She blinked then after a few seconds and I saw the tiniest pucker between her eyes as she took the sheet and nodded gratefully before turning away again, eyes concentrating on her task as silence enveloped us again.
I wanted to say something but I couldn’t find the right words. I didn’t even have to stay but I couldn’t…leave her.
“We saved a life today,” she said looking up at me suddenly and giving a small smile that left as quick as it came that I was struck for a moment before I hastily answered, my heart pounding erratically for some reason. It occurred to me that in the couple of weeks that she’s been here, we haven’t had a proper conversation.
“Yes. Yes, we did. Well, mostly you did. I was practically useless there,” I attempted to smile at her, my hand automatically reaching behind me to rub at the back of my neck.
Her nose wrinkled and I swear a hint of a blush swept on her face that left as fast as her smile did seconds ago. She tilted her head and studied me with her eyes again, her face unreadable. Gods what I would give to be able to see and hear what goes on in that mysterious brain of hers.
After blinking – her lashes were so long and curled elegantly at the ends – I noticed as they swept low on her cheeks for the briefest moment, she shook her head slowly just once before speaking again. “You were far from useless.”
I tried again. “That’s high praise then, coming from you,” but that proved to be the wrong thing to say as her face fell a little before smoothening into her neutral mask she’s worn since she came here.
“I – “I started but what more could I say?
She shook her head and gave a polite smile “It’s really not,” she said so softly before she walked towards the bench, propping a foot on it and leaning down to unroll the bottom of her scrubs one by one then standing straight, reaching behind her to untie her cap, her long shiny red hair tumbling down her back like crimson waves against her dark green scrubs that I lost all coherent thought completely. I could do nothing else but stare at her, completely fascinated.
As if noticing an audience, she craned her neck at me and the tiny puckering movement of her brows came and gone again as she looked at me.
I blinked, coughed and turned away from her gaze and I swear I almost heard the softest laugh but when I looked back at her, she was already halfway out the door.
She paused. “Jon?”
“Y-yeah?” I answered weakly, my name sounding nice on her lips. We were cousins in name and blood but we were strangers and this was the first time she called me by my name.
“You don’t have to tiptoe around me. I’m not made of glass. And again, you don’t have to look after me.” she said without looking at me. I was about to protest when she cut me off. “But…thanks,” and without waiting for my reply, she left.
We never spoke outside of work since that day but since then it’s now been my life mission to make her feel wanted and comfortable in the hospital that needed her more than she needed us – it.
The backstabbing, the gossiping, the off-handed remarks were almost nonexistent, well, at least not to my hearing distance, but was now replaced with maximum tolerance which was worse in some way.
She saved so many lives, improved many others and never had a bad thing to say to anyone, much less, complain that the staff quickly ran out of things to say about her bur praise – which they barely gave.
Why was it so hard for them to accept her?
She was polite, and skilled, and always gentle with the patients and more so with the relatives. Then I understood that Northerners held pride and stubbornness. Never mind that she was by birth and by name, a Northerner.
Four months ago, the hospital was at the brink of being closed down if not for Northern Minister Ned Stark and my father, the Prime Minister. Long story short, Dr. Sansa Stark was the bargain.
What I’ve failed to mention before was that she was the youngest neurosurgeon in history, and she was one in only a handful of female neurosurgeons in the country. But everyone seems to keep bypassing her new position as deputy chief of surgery while the hospital was undergoing an overhaul in management, as something she earned rightfully with her academic prowess and successful cases but rather one handed to her on a silver plate.
I could understand because I suffered the same when I was offered to be the chief over the more senior Dr. Allister Thorne. But the difference was I declined it, wanting to get my years before I feel worthy enough to accept it if they give it to me once more. There was a reason I wanted to work here after all. I was miles and miles away from my father’s shadow, I even changed my name to show how serious I was in earning everything on my own merits.
Though I saw the resistance in Sansa’s eyes when she was announced as the deputy chief, she didn’t say anything, just quietly accepted the job she was given, even if that meant uprooting her from her blossoming career in the South to work in a hospital that was barely holding on before the Starks saved it.
She could’ve left at any time. If she requested it, she could. She didn’t have to stay and endure this. But she’s still here.
I felt a hand move past my shoulder, surprising me almost off my chair. I craned my neck and saw the intense blue eyes that haunted me for weeks ever since that conversation at the scrub room.
There were shadows under her eyes and tinges of red in her sclerae and her hair was down and loose, betraying that she had likely woken up from her deserved rest. Looking away from her eyes, I noticed she had her hand half-withdrawn.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you Dr. Snow. I was just pointing out the bleeding, right there,” she reached out again and pointed at the very ominous crescent on the right lower hemisphere that flashed on the black and white screen. “It’s an epidural bleed and its started to herniate down. I need in there right now,” she explained quickly.
I nodded and was about to order when she beat me to it. “Prep me an OR, stat,” she said firmly but with incredible amount of calmness. How she manages to be calm all the time, I’ll never know. “Please,” she added and I almost shouted that she didn’t have to say that. “Kindly have four bags of blood ready. Did you test his type yet? If not, do so, please,” she ordered politely despite the seriousness of her eyes that were turning steely now as she quickly went to check on the patient, doing a neurological exam as fast as possible.
I followed her and endorsed the patient’s history, a summary of injuries, and my assessment. “Waymar Royce, 17, a steward. He was GCS 9, E2V2M5, pupils anisocoric, six and three, left, and his left is weaker than the right when I checked him. No lucid interval since. We were able to stabilize him but he’s not breathing on his own and I had them page you right away.”
She kept nodding at me as she went on with her examination. “Our exams match, but his left pupil dilated to eight now. We need to decompress immediately.”
“I started him on mannitol before we went to radio.”
She nodded at me. “That was the right thing to do but I have to push more, his blood pressure is spiking.” I checked the monitor and it was indeed spiking. I was about to start the infusion pump for the Nicardipine drip when she shook her head at me.
“No, just help me please with the Mannitol. We can’t drop it quickly,” she explained while she took out the 50ml syringes, loading it with Mannitol she produced from her bag. I began helping her extract Mannitol into the tubes as she started pushing one on the line that was on the crook of Waymar’s right arm. I handed her the next one, taking her empty syringe and refiling it.
The blood pressure was dropping gradually as was the spiking pulse. She gave one last push then checked on the pupils again while I checked on the breath sounds and the urine bag and others for signs of congestion. “Clear.”
“It’s down to five and three but we really need to take him up now,” she looked at me.
“We can’t wait, let’s wheel him up now and find an OR.”
She nodded. “You need to scrub in too.”
“Hm?” I answered when I went to the head of the gurney and started pushing while she maneuvered at the foot to pull.
“You need to see to his ribs. They could puncture his lungs,” she pointed at the x-ray. Gods, I almost forgot!
I nodded right away.
Pyp came back and helped us while telling us that OR 4 was ready.
It took close to eight hours as Waymar kept crashing. Being the night shift, we didn’t have full staff so I had to be Sansa’s assist and she had to be mine.
I was about to tell her that I’ll be fine on my own since she did work six of those eight hours while I assisted almost uselessly beside her. Neurosurgery was usually a one-man job with the assist touching as little as possible because one damaged brain tissue meant paralysis or dysfunction, unless you were also a neurosurgeon assisting too.
I felt bad that she had to do this because in her twenty-four hours she did four major surgeries, the shortest taking four hours and she still squeezed in some rounds. But there was no one else who could do this right now. Only her.
And I remembered I lobbied for her not to take E.R. shifts anymore for this very same reason. She was our only neurosurgeon and she had to have ample rest to not just be in tiptop shape but because damn it, she should be able to take much needed rest as much as she can for all her hard work and dedication. I suggested that she just be on call and if she wished to, take only a maximum of 12-hour shifts, but she insisted that we were already understaffed to begin with. Everyone on the surgery department had to have a twenty-four-hour shift at the E.R. at least every four or five days, why would she be different? We only had two orthopedic surgeons, one cardiothoracic surgeon but another that was on call from Karhold, and one for urology after all. She had to have hours too. I was fortunate to have three alternates in Tormund, Karsi, and Cley Cerwyn, the four of us making up the team of trauma surgeons.
So I tried once more to tell her to go lie down, even suggesting for her to sit on a stool or the floor with a promise to wake her if i needed her but she stubbornly shook her head and never left until the final stitch was done and to her credit, she never showed any sign that she was tired or frustrated and that motivated me to work as fast and as efficient as I ever did in my life.
Then it was done and Waymar Royce was in significantly less danger and had a great chance of waking up sometime this day or tomorrow.
Everyone congratulated us, though they were still frosty with Sansa who just shrugged it off. But I couldn’t take it.
“You were exceptional as always, Dr. Stark,” I said loudly.
She looked up at me for a moment and I think her eyes softened for a second before she turned around and simply gave me a nod and a soft thanks.
“I mean it,” I touched her shoulder. “You did great. He has a fighting chance to wake up from this because of you and everyone knows it.”
She blinked at me, lowered her mask and gave me a brief smile. “Thank you, Dr. Snow.” Then she made her way to the scrub area.
“Give it up, doc. She doesn’t care. And if you didn’t manage him first and page her, Waymar would be good as dead now,” Cottor Pyke, the OR nurse snorted.
I felt incensed. “I pray to the Old Gods every day that one day all of you will open your eyes and see how much we need her here.”
Daeron, the other O.R. nurse rolled his eyes. “We know. We all owe our pathetic jobs to Dr. Stark’s generosity.”
I pulled him by his scrubs all ready to hit him when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned and all my anger melted away when I was met with blue eyes once more.
She was frowning then and gave a slight shake of her head before speaking in her neutral voice again. “Dr. Snow, I need to ask your expert opinion on something. Will you come with me?”
I nodded at her while I shot Cottor and Daeron another glare before following Sansa to the scrub room.
When we got there, she didn’t say anything, just stepped on the switch for the faucet and started washing her hands and arms, methodical as ever and I realized she just said those things to me so I wouldn’t start a fight.
I sighed and washed my hands as well. But I couldn’t let it go no matter how much I tried. “You shouldn’t let them talk to you like that.”
She didn’t look up. “But they didn’t.” She dipped her arm under the spray. “They didn’t talk to me at all.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “You know what I mean.”
She sighed then and nudged the switch off with her foot while she pulled a drying sheet. “It doesn’t bother me.”
I threw the scrub I was using to remove some of the dried blood that caked on my upper arm. “Well it should.”
She looked at me then and her eyes flashed with something before turning cold and expressionless, her chin tilted up slightly as she spoke in that damned detached calm voice of hers. “What do you think I should do? Tell them off? Yell at them? Demand an apology? Grovel at them? Kiss ass? Explain how I didn’t ask for this? Any of this? Explain that this was a duty that was asked of me?”
I yanked my cap off and ran my hand over my hair. “I don’t know. But you have to say something – anything. Your indifference is doing nothing to help you.”
She looked taken aback then – the first chink of her armor. And finally, her face contorted into that of anger as she tore off her cap, her red hair tumbling once more as her eyes blazed with emotion. “You think I’m indifferent? That I don’t care? That this doesn’t in the slightest affect me?”
I stood there stunned to silence but she wasn’t done yet.
I saw her body tremble, her chest heaving as she drew angry breaths, her eyes blazing, her mouth curling, revealing pearly white teeth as her red hair whipped around her face in gentle waves, slightly mussed from being tucked the whole time, bouncing as she spoke, her tone low, calm but deadly.
She placed a hand on her heart and looked me straight. “I care.”
“I care,” she repeated more furious than the first time.
Then her face fell but her body still trembled and there it was.
“I care,” she whispered, her words catching and breaking and all I wanted was to hold her and make everything alright. "More than you think, I do care."
She was beautiful without even trying, but now she was downright glorious in her fury, and impossibly heartbreaking when she was vulnerable.
I made a step closer when she suddenly took a step back and shook her head, her eyes closing in defiance as she stood rigid.
“They told me that many people died not getting the treatment they needed in the North. They told me how much it took to cross the Neck just for thirty minutes of a simple consult that couldn’t be given here. And… they told me they were closing the hospital that saved my brother’s life. They didn’t need to give me any other position other than just being allowed to serve. I would’ve said yes without questions regardless. But if a duty was given to you and from people who are honorable and who you trust completely, you don’t question, you just do it. If I leave just because I can’t endure some bad words, and scathing, judging looks, then I would be selfish, and most of all I would violate an oath,” she said slowly and carefully.
She looked up at me then and gave me a soft look.
“Primum non nocere,” she said before she left me alone completely.
I sucked in a breath and my heart was filled with incredible awe and respect for Sansa Stark and equally incredible shame for myself and the whole bloody staff off this bloody hospital.
Primum non nocere.
It was part of our Hippocratic Oath, sworn by every doctor, though not in the oath itself, but it was implied as was taught to as part of the four main principles of bioethics every sworn doctor takes to heart.
First, do no harm.
“If it won’t help the patient, don’t do it.” I remember Dr. Tyrion Lannister explaining it as he lectured back in med school.
“Primum non nocere,” Sansa’s voice ghosted once more.
And that was when I knew I fell in love.
I found her on the roof deck, sitting cross-legged and half-hidden in a shaded corner, the dull winter sunlight showing it was near mid-morning. She was still wearing her scrubs and was puffing on a cigarette.
“Those things will kill you,” I started, holding back a chuckle. She didn’t look up, just shrugged and took another drag.
I sat down beside her not caring if I was invited or not. I held my hand out and she eyed me at last before soundlessly handing me her stick. I took a long drag and exhaled smoke both through my nose and my mouth, remembering like a green boy that my lips were touching what was only moments ago, was between hers.
“I mean it, these things will kill you,” I repeated while taking another drag like the stereotypical hypocrite doctor and his vices.
“Now more than ever, now that I’m inhaling second-hand smoke. And you’re one to talk when I see you sneaking one in almost every after two surgeries,” she pointed out.
I chuckled. “Didn’t think you’d notice that.”
She placed her face on her hands and leant forward a bit. “I notice everything,” she breathed.
My chest caught and I held back a sigh and kept my hands in my pockets lest I pull her to me and rock her against my chest while I scream at the world.
“This is only the second time I’ve seen you smoke. I don’t want you to start a habit. It’s really bad for you,” I decided to press.
I saw a corner of her lips twitch. “Didn’t think you’d notice that,” she echoed my words and I laughed then. “Maybe you haven’t been looking too much to catch my third and fourth time smoking.”
“No, believe me, when it comes to you, I notice,” I said deciding to be brave and upfront for once because I knew she’d appreciate it.
Definitely a restrained smile there but she didn’t look at me still.
“Still, you should quit before you get hooked. We took vows, you know,” I pressed. "And I used to smoke after each surgery. I'm on my way to complete recovery soon."
A laugh escaped. It was brief and borderline sarcastic but it was lovely. “I’m not harming anyone. I smoke in open air.”
“Yes you are. You’re killing yourself,” I pressed some more. “And we need you alive, Dr. Stark.”
She started to sigh but I stubbed the stick and flicked it over the trash and started talking before she protested. “I don’t mean us – the hospital though we do need you. I meant your patients and patients-to-be.”
She looked at me then and quirked a brow. “You still said ‘us’ though. And I don’t recall you being my patient. Or did you hit your head recently.”
I laughed again. She was too smart for her own good. “Maybe I did.”
“Did what? Say ‘us’ or hit your head?” she smirked.
I looked her straight in the eye then. “Both,” I paused. “I think I hit my head when I started falling for you.”
That wiped the smirk off her face then as she regarded me, looking for any sign that I was joking but I have never been serious as I was now.
She was the first to look away, bringing her knees closer to her chest as she continued to look beyond the Wall. “Maybe you hit your head too hard. Because what you’re saying makes no sense.”
Silence again and then she spoke once more. “You don’t have to.”
“Have to what? Fall madly in love with you?” I challenged.
That brought a blush to her cheeks. “Whatever it is. You don’t have to be nice to me, or talk to me or –
I cut her off by kissing her and pulling away but keeping my forehead pressed to hers. “I don’t have to do that either.”
She didn’t pull away but she didn’t lean closer either and after a pause she spoke. “No, you don’t.”
“Primum non nocere,” I whispered before pulling away slightly.
She looked at me with confusion in her eyes.
“Am I violating anything here?” I asked.
She blushed some more and was seemingly debating in her mind before she finally relaxed and shook her head, her eyes she shutting close before leaning her head on my shoulder.
I grinned as I let her. My hands twitching to wrap my arms around her but I knew it wasn’t prudent at this time.
“You don’t need to protect me. I don’t need protecting,” she said after a while.
“You don’t,” I agreed.
“I can handle myself,” she continued.
I nodded. “You can.”
“No one can protect anyone, not really,” she whispered.
“I know. But there’s no harm if I try, right?” I asked.
She looked up at me then and after a few heart beats she finally graced me with a beatific smile. “No.” She looked away shyly. “Not if you really want too.”
I tilted her face to look at me then, stroking her cheeks until her eyes met mine. “I do. I really want to.”
“You don’t have to,” she said again but this time with significantly less convincing tone.
I chuckled. “I know. But I really, really, want to.”
“Why?”
I gave her a playful smile. “Why? Because you don’t deserve their treatment? The damned hospital doesn’t deserve you, period? Because you are the most selfless doctor I’ve ever met and everyone should see that? Because it’s part of my new vow?”
She quirked her head. “Vow?”
I nodded. “I vow to hurt anyone who hurts you,” I said smugly.
She frowned at me and pinched my arm hard. “Ow!”
I looked at her and she arched her brow at me. “That’s not a very good vow.”
“Oh? How so?” I massaged my arm.
“Because no one can hurt me without my permission,” she said haughtily and I swear I fell in love with her more.
“That’s true, your highness,” I retorted, getting the reference right.
She laughed then and I was struck dumb at how beautiful it was.
She looked up at me with that adorable pucker in her brows again. “What?”
“You should smile more. I don’t want to relinquish my title of Dr. McBroody yet,” I winked.
She laughed again, trying to cover her mouth demurely as she did. “Fine,” she nodded. “Gods, forbid.”
I laughed with her then and after the high we found ourselves both smiling at each other.
I traced the shadows under her eyes and felt her lashes flutter against my fingers as she closed her eyes.
“You should really get some sleep. I know you’ve been up here since the surgery. Believe me I checked the quarters many times.”
“I’m sorry for getting mad at you at the scrub room,” she apologized, ignoring my statement.
I shook my head. “You needed that. Hells, we all need to apologize to you.”
She sighed then shook her head in turn. “I can’t help how other people feel for me. I can only just be myself and do my job.”
I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well you’re right about one thing.”
She opened her eyes then and peered at me. “Hmmm?”
“You can’t help how other people feel for you,” I repeated her words. “Just as you can’t help me from having feelings for you.”
She blushed again before biting her lip and looking up at me from below her long lashes, the light in her eyes dancing. “Oh, I think I can help you with your feelings a little.” She said as she fiddled with the ties of my scrub top.
I couldn’t help but grin then. “How?”
“Will I… be violating anything if I kissed you right now?”
I groaned and cupped her face with my hands. “Sweetheart, you could never be more benevolent. Put me out of my misery Dr. Stark, and kiss me.”
“Well if it really helps you –
I cut her off by kissing her again.
People were definitely going to talk once they see us together but I’m not going to keep this – us – a secret and I’m not going to let her endure further scrutiny alone anymore. She’s right. I can’t protect her, not really, but damn it I’ll try.
First do no harm.
I’m sure the gods will forgive me if I pommel the next guy who slanders my Sansa. Because gods damn it, “harming” her was going to cause more harm for everyone. Not when she was only doing her job above all which was much I could say about everybody else. And doing this would definitely be the lesser evil.
Primum non nocere.
There were three corollary principles with this vow.
One, where harm cannot be avoided, we are obligated to minimize the harm we do.
Two, don’t increase the risk of harm to others.
Lastly, it is wrong to waste resources that could be used for good.
And protecting Sansa and treating Dr. Stark with the admiration, love, and respect she deserved, and throttling all the little shits that mistreats her would be checking all the boxes of fulfilling my Hippocratic Oath.
She pulled away and smiled at me. "We saved a life together, today."
I grinned back. "We did."
And just like that reality decided to burst our bubble when my pager beeped.
I sighed as I read it.
"Time for you to save more, Dr. Snow," she poked me.
I kissed her again, stood up and held out my hand to her. "Time for us to save some more, Dr. Stark."
She laughed as she accepted my hand as I helped her up, shaking her head. "Oh not for another twelve hours, Dr. Snow. Unlike you, I'm still technically off-duty."
I chuckled. "You truly are too smart for your own good."
"Come on, let's go. Do your job and maybe I'll have breakfast with you on your break."
I swung our hands that were still clasped together as we walked. "You don't have to." I teased her.
She smiled widely at that. "I know I don't."
"But I'll be happy if you do," I admitted.
"There's no harm in making a doctor on duty happy, is there?" She beamed at me.
I had to stop and kiss her again. "Definitely no harm at all."
http://archiveofourown.org/works/10311980
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Choosing our psychiatry service means prioritizing your mental health with a commitment to excellence. We stand out for several compelling reasons:
Expertise: Our team comprises experienced and qualified psychiatrists dedicated to providing top-notch mental health care.
Comprehensive Care: We offer a full spectrum of psychiatry services, addressing various mental health conditions with a personalized and holistic approach.
Affordability: Quality mental health care shouldn't be a financial burden. We ensure our services are priced competitively, making them accessible to a broader range of individuals.
Patient-Centric Approach: Your well-being is at the forefront of our practice. We foster a supportive and open environment, prioritizing the doctor-patient relationship.
Proximity and Convenience: Our strategic location ensures easy access to quality psychiatry services, emphasizing the importance of timely intervention in mental health.
Transparent Communication: We believe in transparent communication, ensuring you are well-informed about your treatment options, progress, and any queries you may have.
Positive Outcomes: Our track record includes numerous success stories of individuals who have experienced positive transformations in their mental well-being under our care.
Prioritize your mental health with our psychiatry service – where expertise meets affordability, and your well-being is our foremost priority.
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Ready to take the next step to better your well-being? Book an appointment with one of our doctors today, or reach out to us at 98283 60447 to learn more about our services.
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What do I do when I spent thousands of dollars on an assessment only to have the specialist be dismissive from the start, not examine certain areas I felt were important, and misremember and misinterpret my answers, then, because of all that and because I learned to cope (such as forcing eye contact and studying others' behaviours then forcing myself to emulate them) she says that I don't quite qualify as autistic and left me doubting myself more than ever and without any alternate theories.
I don’t know you and I don’t know the specialist, so I can’t really tell you if that evaluation was accurate or not. However, if everything you’re telling me is factually accurate, you should consider seeking a second opinion. From an economic standpoint, if you’re in the U.S. you should look into teaching hospitals, as they may have lower costs. Try to go to a specialist who has actually studied autism (many don’t know what they’re talking about). Ideally, find someone who is a neuropsychiatrist, lists developmental disorders as a specific interest, or has had previous experience with autistic adults. If you live near Chicago I can recommend a few people, I guess send an off anon ask if you’d like a list.
-mod Ari
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Lessons from the dying
SUSAN HILL
A nurse friend recently finished six weeks in a Covid intensive care unit where she witnessed many deaths and always ensured that nobody died alone. She sat holding a hand, listening, reassuring. Now on leave, she is writing down some of her experiences with the dying.
A wise priest I knew said that no matter how strong your faith, your view of what happens at death and ‘the life of the world to come’ should be an agnostic one. But he still recounted some remarkable things he witnessed when sitting with the dying, and my nurse friend described similar experiences. Unbelievers, whose one certainty is that we are snuffed out like candles, will deny that these accounts have any meaning, attributing them to self-deception or hallucination — that is the atheist position, not the agnostic one, but many hold it and they will not have any truck with what follows. So be it.
My nurse friend said that when she sat with a dying patient, even in the bedlam of ITU, a palpable stillness and peace surrounded them, a bubble in which they rested. Dr Peter Fenwick, a neuropsychiatrist who has spent much of his medical life studying dying and experiences surrounding it, says the same and that, aside from the medical signs, at some point seconds or many minutes after a patient dies, there is a strong sense that they have now ‘left’ — the soul has finally parted from the body and gone on. It is the same sense a friend had after she came in from work one evening and found her husband dead in his armchair. He had not been ill, there had been no warning. She said: ‘I knew he was dead straight away, mainly because he wasn’t there any longer.’
I had the same experiences — of the leaving, and much later, of the empty body — when our infant daughter died. They were also completely unexpected and undeniable.
People used to open a window when someone died, to let the soul out. ‘Go forth on your journey, Christian soul,’ as the Anglican last rites have it. You can find millions of spiritualist and paranormal sites on the internet telling you what happens when you die (not the legitimate accounts of near-death experiences, which are widely recorded). These others are varying degrees of whacky though probably not deliberately written to deceive. Who would bother? But I am certainly agnostic about the likelihood of meeting my mother in her apron, she having baked a cake and put the kettle on for me.
My nurse friend and the priest talked not of the afterlife but of dying. Though you could say the latter had an agenda, the nurse didn’t, and she had had plenty of experiences around death in her working life. One Covid patient she sat with emerged from a deep coma, opened his eyes, his face suffused with amazement and joy, as he took a last breath — the easiest breath for weeks.
Many dangerously ill people enter hospital in pain and distress, but mainly in fear, parted from family and among strangers in alarming surroundings. Intensive care is a scary place, but even on an ordinary hospital ward, if you are dying you need comfort, human presence, attention and reassurance, never more than in these last hours. The dying do not need false cheeriness, and they certainly do not need a refusal to talk with them about their situation. Their deepest concerns ought be taken seriously — no dodging the issue.
A friend told me her husband kept asking medics what would happen to him, where he would go after death and how, what would it be like; questions repeated to each new doctor or nurse, who all pretended not to hear, or left quickly, with embarrassment and maybe: ‘You’ll be fine…’ Finally, a clergyman came: ‘You will go to God.’ ‘Yes, but how? What does that mean? Will I see things, will I know I’m there?’ No replies, just formal prayers — but he didn’t want those, he wanted a human conversation, the most important of his life.
Surely agnosticism has then to yield at least to talk of possibilities. Nobody, especially when young, really believes they will die (though everybody else will), but there comes a moment when death is close. I have been there, close to death — but perhaps not quite close enough, so I have no clear answers, though the experiences have given me an unwavering inner assurance that death is not the end but a new beginning. The Christian faith is the right one for me — though the reasons for that include the cultural one, and if I had been brought up as a Muslim, say, my beliefs would be framed differently.
You might turn to a 19th-century mathematical genius and logician, Augustus De Morgan, for a different sort of reassurance: ‘I am perfectly convinced that I have both seen and heard, in a manner which should make unbelief impossible, things called spiritual which cannot be taken by a rational being to be capable of explanation by imposture, coincidence or mistake.’
I have also had such experiences, so convincingly that they leave me in no doubt about immortality.
Yesterday I went to look at the sea. It was green as bottle glass, stirring deep down, the surface changing as the sun came and went, a wind blew, rain veiled the horizon. I felt a great peace, and an odd sense of lightness and freedom. Lockdown is over after the mass protests made nonsense of our own small attempts to isolate, but if/when Covid returns it will be familiar.
So this is my last column. I have been made to think about many things and tried to make sense of them by writing some of my thoughts down here. It has been a pleasure and a privilege. Thank you.
From 'The Spectator' June 2020
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Bipolar disorder, also known as manic-depressive illness, is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, and the ability to carry out day-to-day tasks. Symptoms of bipolar disorder are severe. They are different from the normal ups and downs that everyone goes through from time to time. Bipolar disorder symptoms can result in damaged relationships, poor job or school performance, and even suicide. But bipolar disorder can be treated, and people with this illness can lead full and productive lives.
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Dr. Vivek Pratap Singh… is the top psychiatrist in Patna, Bihar… Best Psychiatrist in Patna Kankarbagh. Former Psychiatrist in AIIMS Patna. Dr Vivek Pratap Singh - Psychiatrist Patna.
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