To the Doctor Who Showed Compassion During My Mental Health Crisis

The urgent care center you work at is right near my apartment complex. I’ve been there before for other things. Everyone was really nice. This particular day I had been crying for hours. It had been getting worse all week. I was hugging myself tight, as tight as I could, in an attempt to hold myself together. I was in pieces. I had been trying all day to get a hold of my psychiatrist, but I couldn’t. And I didn’t want to go to the hospital because I can’t take the time off of work.

It was overcast and almost dark when I left my apartment, but I wore my sunglasses — it helped a little to hide the tears. I was shaking. I was trying to talk to myself out loud but I was stuttering. When I got to your urgent care center and checked in, I was trying hard to hold back tears. The receptionist was friendly. I curled up in a chair and stared out of the window for I don’t even know how long.

When you saw me, you were kind, patient and understanding. You could see I was in an extreme amount of emotional distress. You wanted me to go to the hospital, you wanted me to take time off of work. But you understood that I couldn’t do that. You sat with me for a long time. You were the only doctor there that night and there were other patients waiting, but you didn’t rush me through like many others would have. I explained to you I have bipolar disorder, and that I was in crisis and didn’t know what to do. That I had tried and failed to get in contact with my psychiatrist. You listened. You cared. You sympathized.

You asked me a barrage of questions, but it didn’t feel like an interrogation. You asked about my illness, my meds and my care team. You asked about my family, support network and work. You asked about my history, what’s been happening in my life, what could have triggered such a huge breakdown. You listened.

Some doctors would have sent me straight to hospital, no matter my protest. Some would have dismissed me and sent me on my way without any real help. I understand that doctors are busy and there are other patients, but what about me? You cared about me. You kept talking to me until you found a solution that worked for both of us. On the provision that I go to the hospital if things got worse, you let me leave with a prescription and a letter to give my psychiatrist. As I left I apologized for wasting so much of your time. You told me I was never wasting your time. I smiled a little as I walked out.

You were clearly very well-trained in how to help people that are going through a mental health crisis. You are a young doctor and this gives me hope — hope the next generation of doctors follow in your footsteps. Because trust me, it makes a difference. It made a difference to me. Thank you, a million times, thank you.