dr strabismus - visit report

8/14/2019 Dr Strabismus - Visit Report

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Directors:Fluids: Marshall Batleaf

Geriatrics: Wendy Pope

Mental Health: Barnaby Rudge

Disability: Gerald Knee

Administration: Crisply Effective (Ms.)

West Dorset Primary Care TrustClaxton Puttock Court

Weston GobchytheDorset DT3 9FX

Tel: 01305 88712

Patron: HRH The Prince of Wales

Assessment report:

Client: C***Y, A****w

Special Number: PY 31729

DoB: Not given

Date of visit: 20/7/2009

Referred by: Community Support

Assessor: Dr. J. B. Strabismus

Background

I visited Client at his home as he had reported a number of

site-specific symptoms and manifestations to his GP and

referrers and it seemed appropriate to check these out.

Clients home is fairly remote and I wondered whether I

should have taken a priest or coracle with me.

Notes

Client was mowing when I arrived, although he had said on

the telephone that he might be moving. I queried this and he

said it was probably a typographical error. I asked how he

could have made a typographical error on the telephone buthe dismissed my question as unduly pedantic. In fact, Client


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was not mowing but was repairing or servicing his mower.

He greeted me warmly enough and showed me what he

claimed were lengths of seaweed wrapped around his

mower blade. I identified the weed as Bladder Wrack (Fucus

vesiculosus), which has been used for centuries for its

antifungal and antibacterial properties.

Although Client lives near the sea, his home (which he shares

with his lovely wife, who appears quite sane apart from a

funny thing that happened with some dogslobber) is several

hundred feet above sea level and, therefore, not noticeably

awash with seaweed. On looking around, I saw a young oak

tree nearby festooned with seaweed. When I asked how this

had happened he said something unclear about the Irish and

moved on.

At my request, Client then showed me round his garden and

pointed out a Scots Pine tree draped with multi-coloured

wool and a large bonfire site surrounded by swarthy logs

one of which oozed pine sap all over my jacket. We also came

across some deflated balloons on an old twig, two bright

pink chairs and a bunch of twigs wrapped in more coloured

wool. At this point I began to suspect that satanic ritualsmight have occurred (see below under Big Chicken). n.b. I

had previously established that no minors were in residence.

Client now enumerated a list of what he called

polychromatic, kinaesthetic sensory experiences involving

other imaginary people and objects. For the record, theseincluded:


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A red woman rolling with a large log and beckoning

enthusiastically (this seemed simple enough to interpret).

A blue woman moving thoughtfully towards the compost,where she made herself at home and formed a tangible

relationship with a very big chicken (voodoo connotations

seemed obvious).

A colourful young Norman bouncing off trees and

apparently falling in love with life rather recklessly, before

surrendering (again, sexual imagery seemed foremost). A pink woman toppling, recovering and then exploding

with laughter on a wall, accompanied by tissues (the

explosive imagery, pinkness and tissues make

interpretation unnecessary here).

A tree masquerading as a cross roads but serving as a

temple to the intentions and travels of others (puzzling). A sea of intentions, accompanied by a sprinkling of seeds

and cushioned by numerous bodies, hearts and minds

(more intensely fleshy imagery).

A strong presence coming down from the empty top

corner with questions and certainty paradoxically

encompassed in the same movement (again puzzling).

An almost unpronounceably long woman with her feet

wrapped in copious red strandiness and a tendency to

favour unusual wordy wanderings (mother complex).

An enormous pie and failed meringues (presumed sexual

inadequacy).


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A magical woman wrapped in sounds and the seaweed

progressing through the trees like the echo of a future half

heard (again puzzling).

A sumptuous granny cooing in a sublime way whilstacknowledging the emergence of new life but having no

nonsense from anyone anyway (resurgence and

composting).

Someone piddling noisily (coarse child attempting to

shock).

A foreign chap with more than one mobile phone goingabout slowly slowly but noticing a great deal and laughing

(?).

A golden yellow woman tinged with wet ash and the soft

wisdom of tears flowing (I found myself quite moved at

this point).

A reggae band called The Nine Postures, of which the mostengaging member was re-membering how to lift down,

like dust settling in water (here I began to cry openly).

An octopus already in relationship with a home spider

(grappling legs and tentacles, hideous melangism).

The wisp of a German professor bearing my name and a

curved penis (ghastly).

A soft-faced quietist, drawing in to her tent and then

clearly becoming her being speaking by the pond (quite

beyond me).

A bright, bright light stepping through the vegetables and

finding her staying by the bees (here I became calm butvividly alive).


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A powerful red parachutist, small but bubbling with life,

glistening between the trees (no comment).

An accompanying pink expression (why so much pink?)

conducting a sheet and immersing herself as noisily as acloud in the between trees.

Others, besides the granny, preparing to become ancestors.

A dictionary of the nebulous and the uncertain.

A new dog learning old tricks.

Conclusions

I was impressed by the vividness of the colours that Client

reported, the way he moved with ease between that which

was on the far horizon, that which occupied the mid distance

and that which was near to hand. In walking round the

garden I also experienced peals of laughter, salty wet tears,

the decontractions of long-held sorrow and something rising

up, lifting up, as of community or communion deftly held

and lithe as a fluttering dove ready to fly. Finally, I noticed an

unusual light in the garden both shining and illuminating.

When I asked Client how he felt about being in this garden

he said, What kind of twat psychotherapy question is that?and proceeded to move between the trees, twisting and

turning like a young tortoise, glancing back along the

diagonal and playing with the onrush of life glistening.

Eventually, I offered a course of CBT and a 30-day

programme of fish oil supplements but Client declined my

offer with a smile, mentioned something uncertain about anOverhelm and licked my face until I left.


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Recommended action

Keep a close eye on the situation and watch for any

recurrence. Were I less sceptical I should say that something

quite remarkable and transformative had occurred in that

garden.

JBS

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