Countertransference, in one word summarizes my last six weeks spent within the walls of various psychiatric units. Every petition, every police report, every psychiatric emergency center report, I experienced some form of countertransference. Life experiences, which make us, or break us, happen every day and I am finding that as third year progresses, some “hit home” harder than others.
I had various reservations prior to starting the psychiatry clerkship, many which stemmed from my fear of meeting individuals similar to a person I know, a man with a social history pertinent for drug addiction. As I embraced this fear and entered the clerkship with an open mind, I felt entirely vulnerable. I felt that I would become exposed, or break down while interviewing a patient in front of my attending. These thoughts filled my brain and clouded my ability to relate to patients. I was only making superficial connections in order to protect both myself as a student doctor and more importantly, my emotional stability.
A turning point came when I met a man, petitioned for danger to self and others, who had a detailed past of drug abuse, family divorce, and abuse as a child. I can remember the moment, when the wall fell down, and I felt what this gentleman was telling me. These feelings of understanding crushed over me and although there was a physical patient sitting in front of me, my mind envisioned that of a specific person. Hearing a story told from a different perspective, helped me to witness a different viewpoint outside of the one I have generally had because quite honestly, I had washed my hands clean of the situation when I was an undergrad. The stress of schooling, the feelings of inadequacy, on top of living with a severe drug addict, were not in my mind the combination to success. I learned to suppress this person’s situation early on and eventually stopped being a good listener, let alone a good sister.
It only took 30 minutes to uncover 10 years of withheld emotions. Walking out of the room, reflection instantly began. This man, once troubled, is now achieving many goals he once found out of reach, and I, troubled with my past suppression of what truly was happening within his life years back. Ultimately inspired by the patient, I inquired to this person to tell me anything he wanted to share so I could understand him better. He agreed and desired to write a narrative depicting a life-changing moment.
The lights were so bright, they were circular-shaped and as white as snow. Two shadowy figures stood behind them. I couldn’t make out what they looked like, or even if they were human, all I knew was that they were here for me. I began shouting out things like:
“Why are you here?”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Please don’t hurt me!”
“Just leave me be, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
The lights became brighter as they approached, I felt a presence, and it wasn’t a good one. With all the awkward encounters I’ve witnessed in my 31 years on this planet, it would make perfect sense to finally make contact with that very lifeform us human beings have been questioning for hundreds of years. I asked myself, “Is this really happening right now? Am I about to be abducted by aliens? Has my time come to an end?” These thoughts ran through my head in a matter of seconds, and just before I was about to accept my fate, I heard a familiar phrase that no one likes to hear, “License and registration, please.”
Cops . . . it had to be cops. For some odd reason, I was okay with what my mind was playing out. I mean, my direction in life was on a pathway to agony. It couldn’t get much worse than it is now. They pulled me out of the car, and I could barely stand. I had been up for days prior to this blackout, so I was completely fatigued. They began to question me:
Officer 1: “Are they any drugs or weapons in the car?”
Me: “No, Sir.”
Officer 1: “May I search the car?”
Me: “Go ahead.”
Officer 2: “Do you know where you are at?”
Me: “Dude, I’m home in front of my house.”
Officer 2: “No, you are currently 9 miles north of your home.”
Before they even entered the vehicle, officer 2 had put me in handcuffs, stating that I was under arrest. When he put me against the car, I got a glimpse of what they had seen, drugs in plain view on the passenger seat with syringes and a scale. I knew right then and there I was screwed. I was going away for quite some time. This wasn’t my first rodeo, honestly, more like my 5th or 6th. They grabbed me by my sweater and walked me to their squad car, placed me in the back seat, and read me my rights. As he was reciting my rights, I finally came to, and realized what was going on. I had overdosed in front of someone’s house, and the police were contacted. “How long had I been sitting there?” I wondered. I had no idea. I just remember that when I had parked my car, there was daylight, and now it was nighttime.
Sitting in that back seat I felt a sense of safety, safety from myself and the destructive pattern I had been living. If the cops weren’t called, what could have possibly been the end result? Would I have died, or would I have continued on right where I had left off? All of these are possibilities, no doubt about it. One thing is for sure: it was inevitable. My way of living was going to catch up with me sooner than later, and on that very day it did. The dishonest, selfish lifestyle had consumed me, and I had finally hit what most people call “rock bottom.” I was ashamed and disgusted. What was my family going to think? Would my mom be ready to answer another call from county jail? Only this time, I wouldn’t be released right away. I was definitely going to do some jail time, much more than my last stint of 6 months. All of these thoughts were racing through my head during the drive in the backseat of the police cruiser. Then out of nowhere it hit me, that thing people call a “moment of clarity.” Everything began to make sense. I was ready for what was to come. God was doing for me what I could not do for myself. The help I had desired for so long and the critical time to get my mind right just fell into my lap. I needed to be saved and get off the streets and this was “his” way of doing so. I suddenly felt a calming feeling come over me, a breath of fresh air entered my body. This was my time to change everything about myself, my perspective on life, and all that I am surrounded by. These two police officers saved my life tonight, and as weird as it sounds, I am grateful they arrested me!
Ironically enough, the medical student within me wanted to diagnose him with substance-induced psychosis, given his depictions of aliens as officers, but I refrained from doing so. With complete admiration, I am proud of this man for displaying his openness and acceptance of his past with insight for his future. Second, third, fourth, and fifth chances do not become mistakes unless they are not acted upon, and I am thankful I took the chance to learn about a story very close to my heart. Having now become familiar with countertransference in a positive way via experiencing a pivotal life moment from someone close to me has made the entire process worth it. I would strongly encourage all to step into their patients’ shoes, inquire openly to learn more, and never stop loving the person you are becoming. We all can be and do great things in life, and each patient you meet impacts your life in many ways unimaginable.
Erika Lodgek is a first-generation medical student and part of the Class of 2018 at The University of Arizona College of Medicine – Phoenix. As a Phoenix native, pursuing her undergraduate education and medical education under the Arizona sunshine was an easy choice. She is the younger of two siblings and finds that the tough love gained is worth every tear and smile, for the joy family brings is undeniable. To contact Erika, please email her at elodgek[at]email.arizona.edu.