I live in Rochester, Minnesota, which basically is famous only for being home to the Mayo Clinic. My biggest health problem is mental, not physical (I’m bipolar).
Several years ago, my internist snagged me a consultation with the psychiatrist who is nationally known for his work with bipolar disorder. After a three-hour discussion that felt like it ranged from birth to present day, he asked if I had questions. I said yes, just one: “Is this ever going to get any better?”
He then felt compelled — after all that time — to tell me the research showed it got worse as people aged, not better, and he was very sorry, but he couldn’t help me.
I was a little irked, as you might imagine.
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