So, as many of you know, my husband, D, is a psychiatrist. For various reasons, he spends a day a week in service to a Case Management Agency, working with the mentally ill who are homeless or just plain poor.
He told a neat Father's Day story to me this morning.
A young schizophrenic man came to him several months ago, complaining of voices. After talking with him, D gave him a shot that lasts a month, that is a really good medication for schizophrenics.
The other day, the young man came in for a followup. Doc! The shot worked! I hadn't told you but I had two voices in my head talking against each other, and the only way I could make it work was to make a deal with them. If I walked constantly from sunrise to sunset, they would be quiet. And they were.
After I took the shot, one voice stopped altogether. The other one was still there, but after about a week, it stopped too. I went home and had an amazing sleep.
The next morning I called up my girlfriend. And now I'm going to be a father.
D's response: Well! Happy Father's Day!
(The case managers were all like: oh no a new little baby schizophrenic!)
The young man was so happy that D congratulated him and was happy for him.
I have some amazing fathers in my life right now: A and Sc and of course my beloved D. So Happy Father's day to each of you.
That's really neat!
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