Go Retire Psychiatrist

Slow Down, Tithonus

What I sometimes don’t like about the X-Files episodes were the esoteric titles. One of them was “Tithonus.” I watched it again last night. It’s about a police photographer named Fellig who claimed to be about 150 years old because he cheated death sometime during the days of Yellow Fever in the U.S. in the 18^th through the 20^th centuries. He was in a hospital sick from Yellow Fever but didn’t look at Death, which was some kind of entity taking those who were dying from Yellow Fever. Death took his nurse instead because she looked at him.

Ever since then, he’s been trying to catch a glimpse of Death mainly by following people around who he somehow knew were about to die. I think the idea was that if he caught up with Death and stared at it, then he could finally die, because by this time he’s so tired of living that he’s attempted suicide several times. He often acts like he’s in a hurry to catch a glimpse of Death.

The main way Fellig knows who is about to die is because they look black and white instead of in living color. Agent Scully is working with another investigator who believes Fellig is a serial killer. Fellig looks at Scully and she’s monochromatic (black and white) which means she’s about to die. So, he tries to stick close to her so he can get a look at Death. The other investigator shoots Fellig and the bullet also hits Scully. Fellig tells her to close her eyes and he finally gets his chance to look at Death and dies. Scully survives.

So, that preamble leads me to talk about the title “Tithonus” a little. Tithonus in Greek mythology was this rich mortal with whom Eos, the goddess of dawn, fell in love. She made him immortal but forgot to give him eternal youth so he gradually because a shriveled up, demented old fart. This led to some pretty intense arguments between them:

Tithonus: So, here I am, senile because you neglected to give me eternal youth when you gave me immortality. This is just like the time you made me a Braunschweiger sandwich, but instead of using my favorite spread, Miracle Whip, you used mayonnaise!

Eos: How does that even make sense? I try my best! You should use your walker more often; then you wouldn’t trip and fall so much.

Tithonus: Excuses! And you hide my Geritol!

So, Eos turned him into a cricket to interrupt his constant babbling.

Anyway, occasionally I think about my mortality because I’m not getting any younger. I’m more forgetful. I can’t walk as far as I used to. I can still juggle, but I’m beginning to accept the fact that I may never be able to do the shower pattern or the off the head trick. Sena and I still play cribbage, but I’m starting to notice that I make certain mistakes in counting that I didn’t make in the past. I can’t stay up as late as I once did.

On the other hand, I can get along without certain things like TV, mainly because I notice I enjoy reading more. I ignore the news a lot more than I formerly did. I would rather listen to music or watch the birds. I admire Sena’s garden from our back windows, where I can watch the dawn arise.

I’m in no hurry.

The Demonic Robin Ignores Window Film!

This morning, we noticed the demonic robin flapping around our downstairs window well again. The window film doesn’t work, probably because it’s essentially clear and has a sort of light scattering pattern on it. So, Sena ordered a new film which is basic black. We’re hoping it eliminates refection, which we think is still the main explanation for the bird’s behavior.

I think this is a female because of the color of its head. Typically, a male robin’s head will be virtually black but a female’s head is mostly gray. That’s according to my favorite handbook on Iowa birds by Stan Tekiela, Birds of Iowa Field Guide, 2^nd edition updated in 2023.

I’m just remembering that it’s not entirely true that we’ve never had a problem with birds who had a poor sense of boundaries around houses we’ve lived in previously. In fact, one house we lived in was home to sparrows. We tried to scare them away with rubber snakes, but they didn’t work. I guess part of the trouble was they never moved unless we moved them around. And last year, a pair of house finches built a nest in the fake Christmas tree on the front porch of one of the previous houses we lived in. There were eggs in it when I found it. I set up a video camera to record their comings and goings. The eggs never hatched.

And that reminds me; we lived in a house many years ago in which a pair of mourning doves built a nest on one of our outdoor stereo speakers!

But before then, I can’t remember that we ever had birds’ trespass on the many properties we’ve previously lived in. It’s a common story. Bird encroachment can happen to you at any time in your lives.

There are many choices for how to cope with the issue, many of which you can find in the blog post with several years of comments, “How we stopped a robin’s pecking at window glass” I mentioned yesterday. Some suggested shooting the birds, although there is a law against it. Anyway, I’m pretty sure that, poor shot that I am, I’d put more holes through the windows than in any bird. Netting seems to be effective for some people, but for others only to the extent that they wrap themselves up in it because they’re fit to be tied from frustration.

While we’re waiting for the new window film to get here, I’m now wondering what’s going to happen to something else Sena bought the other day: patio tomatoes. We didn’t know you could grow tomatoes in a pot on your patio. Years ago, a garden center salesperson scoffed at the idea.

The pertinent concern is whether birds, like the Ms. Demonic Robin, will poke holes in the tomatoes. We have two varieties, the cherries and the slicers. One cherry tomato is already visible. Come to think of it, a lot of critters will eat tomatoes, and many of them trot, hop, crawl, or stomp across our back yard in and out of the woods.

The other plant Sena got was a Maltese Cross (Lychnis chalcedonica) flower. Because of the shape of its flowers, it’s named after the Maltese cross. It’s supposedly resistant to deer and rabbits. It can attract hummingbirds and butterflies. I think robins won’t eat it.

ADDENDUM: I almost forgot another interesting time a robin did something ridiculous at another house we used to live. You can read about the hoorah’s nest a robin built on our deck in the post “Who’s a Hoorah’s Nest?

The Window Hating Demonic Robin!

Now we’ve got a female robin who is pecking our window well window and even tearing up the screen.

She can turn her head almost completely backward so I know she’s the window-hating, demonic robin from hell. She never pecks the window panes below the level of the well, which makes me believe this is still a problem with seeing her own reflection as another marauding bird.

I call her demonic because I caught pictures of her sitting on a wooden lath staring back at me with her head turned at pretty much 180-degree angle, glaring at me—like something out of the movie The Exorcist.

She’s been at it for over a week now with no end in sight. She’ll stay up most of the night flapping against the glass. Sena got the idea of trying some window film which has a pattern on it. Maybe that’ll break up the light. We taped it up just to see if it works.

It’s not like there’s a whole flock of birds attacking the house or the block or the town, like the movie “The Birds.” It’s not the Alfred Hitchcock thing, which he got from a story by Daphne du Maurier, also titled “The Birds.” I’ve never read it. I’m aware of one scientific explanation for birds attaching en masse, which was about the time thousands of seabirds attacked the coastline near Monterey, California because they ate neurotoxin infested phytoplankton.

It’s just one obsessed bird, and maybe she’s the only one snacking on poisoned phytoplankton. I can find plenty of advice on the web about how to stop this crazed bird-brain preoccupation. Take a look at the blog “Hinessight: How things look through an Oregonian’s eyes” and read the very long post “How we stopped a robin’s pecking at window glass.”

Read it for entertainment. And maybe you’ll find something workable to prevent devil-driven robins who spend a lot of time twirling their heads watching reruns of “The Exorcist” on their tiny screen TVs and get their kicks from pecking at your window. There are 13 years’ worth of comments, so get comfortable.

Comments Without Spoilers on the Svengoolie Movie “The Haunted Strangler”

Last night I watched the Svengoolie Show movie, “The Haunted Strangler” (1958), starring Boris Karloff as Dr. Rankin, which had psychiatric overtones, along with hints at demonic possession. This was evidently a rerun of a previous Svengoolie episode.

Without spoilers, I can point to a time setting goof you can see in two copies of the film on the internet Archive. It involves a line by the character Dr. Kenneth McColl (played by Tim Turner, in which he attempts to explain Dr. Rankin’s behavior using the term “projective identification.” The problem is that as far as the time setting of the film’s story (from 1860 to the early 1880s), this psychoanalytic term for a defense mechanism was not invented until the mid-1940s by psychoanalyst Melanie Klein.

The point in one of the Internet Archive copies of the movie “The Haunted Strangler” where “projective identification” is mentioned by Dr. Kenneth McColl (played by Tim Turner) as a way to explain Rankin’s behavior is at 1:03:28, added on 09/02/2019 by Amalgamated. It’s also at 1:28:44 on the Internet Archive copy “Creature Feature: The Haunted Strangler” which is actually a Svengoolie episode, added by “Uh? Want Entertainment” on 02/22/2022.

Another interesting feature pointed out on the Svengoolie show includes the lack of complicated makeup for the transformation of Dr. Rankin into a homicidal monster. Karloff just removed his dentures and grimaced. I’m pretty sure it saved money on production costs.

The other psychiatric connection of “The Haunted Strangler” to psychoanalysis is dissociation both as a mental disorder and a defense mechanism. It’s also connected to dissociative identity disorder. In fact, the character Dr. Kenneth McColl mentions “dual personality” in the movie “The Haunted Strangler.”

There’s an echo also to “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” which was a novella published in the mid-1880s by Robert Louis Stevenson, which was adapted from Freud’s concepts of the id, the ego, and the superego. And we got the 1920 film “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” (which I’ve never seen) arising from the dual personality idea. I think Svengoolie showed “Abbott and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” which I’ve also not seen.

There were several warnings (more than I usually have seen) to viewers about the possibility some scenes in the movie might be too intense for younger or sensitive viewers.

Update on the Tree Bag Thing

I have a quick update on the tree bag project around here. The landscaper dropped by and replaced a plant. Sena asked for his opinion on tree bags. He says tree bags are good.

Sena got four of them, one on the front yard maple and three for the rest of the trees in the back yard.

What’s a tree’s favorite song? “Please rebag me, let me grow, for I’m so thirsty anymore…” Think Engelbert Humperdinck. It’ll come to you.

I bet you didn’t know Michael Jackson did a song about tree bags. “You know I’m bagged; I’m bagged…, you know it…Who’s bagged?”

Reasons to Be Proud and Hopeful for the Future

As the month of May Mental Health Awareness draws to a close, I reflect a little on the Make It OK calendar items that are salient for me: 3 things I’ve done that I’m most proud of and 3 reasons I’m hopeful for the future. I’ll keep it short.

One thing I’m most proud of is being the first one in my family to go to college. The biggest accomplishment was going to medical school at The University of Iowa in 1988. That was also the year Michael Jackson’s pop hit “Man in the Mirror” was released. That’s sort of how I felt about what I was doing that year—making a big change.

The more I reflect on this the more I realize the other thing I’m most proud of was getting a degree from Iowa State University in 1985. That paved the way for the path to becoming a doctor.

This process seems to work backwards because probably the first thing I’m proudest of is making a change even earlier in my life to land a job with a Mason City, Iowa consulting engineer firm, Wallace Holland, Kastler Schmitz & Co. That came before college and they’re all like stepping stones on the path of achievement. I think I started at the minimum wage back then, which was about $2.00/hr. I was an emancipated minor and couldn’t afford an apartment so I lived at the YMCA. It was a cramped sleeping room with no kitchen, a communal bathroom/shower, and a snack vending machine from which I got a worm infested candy bar. There were strict rules about what you could keep in your room—which somehow didn’t prevent one guy from building a motorcycle in his. Now this is getting too long.

In order to move on expeditiously with the mental health awareness calendar items, I’m going to cheat on the 3 reasons I’m hopeful for the future because they involve what is most important to a teacher. That’s what I was. I was so proud of the many medical students and residents I had the honor to teach. There were a lot more than 3 reasons to be hopeful for the future. I used to take group pictures of them and me at the end of each rotation through the consultation psychiatry service. We got a kick out of that because the only way I could do it was by using my old iPad that had a fun remote way to trigger the snapshot. I leaned the iPad up against something on a table. We all gathered as a group at the other end of the room. We posed, I raised my hand and counted to three, then closed my hand into a fist. That was our cue to smile. The shutter clicked.

Every time we did that, I was proud. Wherever they are, I hope they know how proud I am of them.

What’s Up with Tree Bags?

Sena got some tree bags for keeping our trees watered. They don’t come with explicit instructions; I’ve never had to deal with them. As always, I suspect extraterrestrials and other strange beings are involved.

Apparently, the tree bags are supposed to provide enough water for young trees so they grow and thrive in your yard.

Here’s what I found when I consulted the extraterrestrial manual for help. There are certain factors to be aware of, such as you want to make sure you get tree bags on sale. A reasonable price is around several thousand dollars, so you want to arrive at Lowe’s or wherever with a wheelbarrow full of cash.

There’s no fancy water sewer hookup. You have to haul the water out to the tree bag so you can immediately accidentally dump it on your clothes. This is mandatory.

Be on the lookout for wandering elfin archers, who use tree bags for target practice. And if the bag doesn’t work out, you can always wear it as a super hero cape.

I’m skeptical about the whole theory behind tree bags. The trouble is it probably doesn’t hold water. See what I did there?

Good luck!

So, I Got the Covid-19 Booster Today

After giving the Covid-19 summer booster a lot of thought, I got it today. What the heck. I’m an old guy and the experts all agree that the summer surge is real, including the current leaders of the FDA Center for Biologics Evaluation and Research (Vinay Prasad, M.D., M.P.H and Martin A. Makary, M.D., M.P.H.).

I read their article “An Evidence-Based Approach to Covid-19 Vaccination” published in the New England Journal of Medicine on May 20, 2025. It sounds like they’re going to require placebo-controlled trials for new vaccines for almost everybody except those over age 65 and high risk because they’re not recommending it for certain other groups such as healthy children.

I didn’t think it was worth the wait for the upcoming CDC ACIP meeting on June 22, 2025 in order to decide whether or not to get the summer vaccine. It’s the same one I got last fall and the same one the FDA advisory committee decided at this month’s meeting would be appropriate going forward (the JN.1 lineage).

It wasn’t like there was a long wait time to get the vaccine today. There wasn’t a line. I scheduled it but I didn’t have to because I got right in.

It’s true that vaccine uptake has been low. However, I think on balance they’ve been proven to be safe and effective so I’m not sure that placebo-controlled trials are warranted. I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.

Reference:

An Evidence-Based Approach to Covid-19 Vaccination

Authors: Vinay Prasad, M.D., M.P.H., and Martin A. Makary, M.D., M.P.H.Author Info & Affiliations

Published May 20, 2025

DOI: 10.1056/NEJMsb2506929

An Anecdote About “Supportive” Psychotherapy

I just read Dr. George Dawson’s excellent blog post on supportive psychotherapy (“Supportive Psychotherapy—The Clinical Language of Psychiatry.” If you’re looking for an erudite and humanistic explanation of supportive psychotherapy, I think you’re unlikely to find anything superior to Dr. Dawson’s essay.

Now, about my take on “supportive” psychotherapy—there’s a reason why the word supportive is wrapped in quotes. It’s because I have a sort of tongue in cheek anecdote about it based on my experience with a staff neurologist in the hospital. It was long enough ago that I’m not sure what level of training I was in exactly. I was either a senior medical student or a resident doing a rotation on an inpatient neurology unit.

Dr. X was staffing the neurology inpatient service and I happened to overhear a brief conversation he had with the psychiatry consultants about what approach to adopt with a patient who he believed had a gait problem due to a psychological conflict. He wanted a psychological approach, preferring something on the psychodynamic side. I remember the psychiatric consultant said flatly, “We’re pretty biological.” I can’t remember what their recommendation was, but he disagreed. Later in the day, Dr. X gathered all of the trainees and we rounded on the patient in his hospital room.

We all crowded into the room with the patient, who had a severe problem walking due to what seemed to be unexplained hemiparesis. This is where the “supportive” element of Dr. X’s approach to psychological treatment came in.

Whether due to a deformity or past injury (I can’t recall which), Dr. X walked with a pronounced limp. He asked the patient if he would be willing to try walking vigorously with him across his room. Dr. X promised to assist him up and made it very clear that, despite his own limp, he was going to walk with the patient as normally as possible, together using both their legs.

The patient was very hesitant. Dr. X offered a lot of reassurance and encouragement—and then hoisted him up out of bed and marched with him across the room, ensuring that the only way this could happen was if he used both legs. The scene was comical, Dr. X limping but strongly moving in one direction while hauling the patient along with him.

The patient did it—twice and with increasing speed while obviously using both legs, never collapsing to the floor while Dr. X effusively praised him. He looked embarrassed and also seemed genuinely grateful for this miraculous cure. I was impressed.

I’m calling this a form of supportive psychotherapy partly in jest, but also to make a point about what support can mean, both literally and figuratively speaking, under certain circumstances according to how differently trained health care professionals might define psychiatric help.

Later in my career as a psychiatric consultant in the general hospital, I often found that many medical generalists and specialists preferred patients with these kinds of afflictions be transferred to psychiatric wards.

I don’t recall Dr. X ever suggesting that.

The personal identities of both doctor and patient were de-identified.

Find a Tee for Mayree!

Sena alerted me to a news story about an Iowa City 8^th grader landing a 68-pound flathead catfish yesterday in Iowa. While it’s not the all-time record, you have to admit he landed a monster fish. The record is an 81-pounder caught in 1958.

Now why would that remind me of KCCK Jazz and Blues Radio, Iowa’s only jazz radio station? It’s because of John Heim’s (aka Big Mo) blues show comedy bit on the Friday Night Blues Show featuring Mayree’s hand-battered catfish (“It’s better because it’s battered!”). You can hear more about it and other “Sponsor De Faux” on the Big Mo Pod Show 003.

It would be cool if KCCK sold a tee shirt that featured Mayree. Hey, don’t blame me; it’s Big Mo’s idea! I’ve searched the KCCK web page, but can’t find a tee for Mayree (hey, that rhymes, good for marketing!) but there’s a nice Big Mo tee in medium and 3XL sizes.

Anyway, I was fooling around with the idea and came up with a design for the tee today. Tell Big Mo what you think at email bigmo@kcck.org. It’s OK, he reminds listeners every Friday night how to get in touch with him when he hosts the Big Mo Blues Show, starting at 6 PM in the evening.

I’m pretty sure one of you could come up with a snazzier design. And just remember, Mayree’s hand-battered catfish are cooked to perfection, with manic delight, and they are just packed with nitrates! I can’t fit all that on a tee, which would have to be bigger than a tent.