Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Head.Wall.Splat

Let me introduce a special breed of patient: the obnoxiously anxious patient.

This is the patient for whom every word you speak is to predict their impending doom. They're so afraid you're going to tell them they have something earth shattering like high blood pressure, cancer, Ebola, or an ingrown hair that they start interrupting you asking "Do I have THIS!!!!???!! AM I GOING TO DIE"...
Uhh, no. I was only going to say that everything looks good. But suddenly I'm delighting in conjuring up ways to kill or maim you, and at the very least wish famine and plague on you and your house after this oh-so-thrilling time we've had to together. These are patients that when the attending is writing their obligatory Xanax scrip, you ask for two or three for yourself because this batsh*t person has just sent your normally fine BP through the roof, and incited a murderous rage within you.



What is it about anxious people that makes them seemingly insist on making you as crazy as they are!!

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