Hi everyone

Lately I have been thinking about the topic of trust.  I may write a little series about this with regard to our healthcare.

Here is a little story from my past which has colored my view of "the system" for many years.  Yesterday I had posted about my personal experience with trying to come to terms with mental illness in my family.  My mother has schizophrenia and I watched how she attempted to get help from the mental health system and I have to tell you that for the most part...it didn't work so well.  I grew up with a bias and a mistrust of the people and the process involved with my mother's mental health treatment.

Probably the peak of my distrust happened when I was about thirteen or fourteen.  My mother had a mental breakdown and needed to hospitalized.  At this time behaviorism as a method for treating mental illness was rampant.  I received a phone call from a social worker from the hospital where my mother was inpatient.  They had her on a behavioral program where she would earn points for engaging in what they deemed as "good" behavior.  If she complied with going to therapy or the scheduled activities this earned her so many points.  Her rewards included snacks, free time, and her personal favorite...her smokes.  Is anyone else's gut screaming out about such a scenario?

Now here is why they were calling me.  See...I could help my mother earn points and get her smokes if I would come in to talk with them.  The woman on the phone seemed genuinely interested in me and my welfare.  You have to understand that despite my mother's severe mental illness, the fact that we were living in poverty, did not seem to warrant much interest from the system.  Nobody had ever asked about me before.  And here I could also help my mother earn her points.  All I had to do was come in and talk with them.

I show up and the social worker heaps on the empathy and asks me how I am doing and how I cope with all of this.  I begin talking openly and honestly feeling that maybe...just maybe this was someone who could help me and my mother...that my mother and I wouldn't be ditched by the system when she exited the hospital like all the other times. 

So I am sitting there feeling more at ease and hopeful...I am pouring out my story.  And then the social worker stops me.  She shows me a tape recorder and asks if I minded being taped.  You see...they were doing a study. 

Imagine the sound effect they use in movies of the screeching record which stops the music. 

They were actually using me to get something they wanted.  Not only were they attempting to use me...they were using my wish to help my mother as leverage.  If this woman had been straightforward and told me that this was a business transaction I could have maybe coped with it a little better.  But when people pretend to care and then take advantage like that for their own gain... or misuse power...I have real problems.