It was the middle of the afternoon and my clinical day was almost over. So far it had not been a bad day but I had not seen anything different than what I had seen before. The next chart was up in the slot located outside the exam room door. I looked at the chief complaint. I know the staff that answered the phone and set up the appointments did not have a lot of medical education except for what they did and heard in the office. I read the chief complaint and it said, “I am having a nervous breakdown.” I looked at the age and sex of the patient. It was a 22-year-old female who’s name was
I lightly knocked on the door before entering. As I walked inside I noticed
“So what brings you in the office today?” I asked.
“I am always angry and have anxiety,” said
“When do you feel angry?” I asked. My pen was getting ready to write the subjective part of my SOAP note.
“When I am around him I just get angry and feel anxious. He is my husband,” said
“Do you feel like this at any other time during your day? Like at work?” I asked.
“No. Just around him. When I am around him I just want to explode! He just pisses me off!” she said. Her husband continued to read the magazine. His leg was moving faster. I started to write my note.
“I just don’t know. Every time I am around him I just get mad. Plus he doesn’t help any by making things worse,” said
“Why don’t you tell her the whole story?” said her husband. I looked at him because it was the first time he spoke. Even with talking he continued to look down at the magazine.
“Be quiet or I will ask you to leave!” said
“If I leave you will have to find another ride home!” he loudly said.
“Yeah whatever. The police were at our house a few times,” said
“Police? Was it a domestic violence problem?” I asked.
“Yes,” said her husband.
“How long have you been married?” I asked.
“Two years,” said
“How long did you date before you got married?” I asked.
“Not long enough,” said
“Have you thought of marriage counseling?” I asked.
“Yes I have. But he won’t,” said
“I just feel like I need some medication or something to help me feel less angry and anxious. Especially around him,” said
“You can say that again!” said her husband continuing to look down at the magazine.
“Oh Lord,” I thought to myself.
“Why don’t you just tell her everything?” said her husband. I knew that would provoke another response within seconds.
“I swear I will ask you to leave. This is my appointment and I allowed you to be in here if you stayed quiet,” said
“Okay…” I thought to myself. I remained on the roller stool. Her husband continued to look down at the magazine. I saw
“Don’t tempt me. If I leave you will have to find another ride!” said her husband. I needed to change the subject and quick.
“Why are you on the Wellbutrin?” I asked. I was wondering if there was some sort of connection.
“To quit smoking,” said
“Oh. Well there goes that theory,” I thought. “How long have you been on it?” I asked.
“About two weeks. I know it takes more time,” said
“Has it worked for you?” I asked. I wrote that down. I put down under general objective, “arguing with husband during history taking.”
“I am down to two cigarettes a day. I have not had the urge so I guess it is working,” said
I did the physical exam and everything looked normal. I looked back at her husband and he continued to look down at the magazine. It was a funny thing how the pages never turned. I guess he just needed a distraction from his wife. It was time to go talk to my preceptor. I excused myself and closed the door. The thought of hearing things crash against the wall came to mind. I wondered if I would need the medical assistant to call 911. I could not believe the amount of anger in that room.
While discussing counseling and medication options for Sandy, her husband opened the door and told me he was out of there and he could not take it anymore. I had the feeling
I had the feeling the police would probably be at their home more in the future. I also hoped the Prozac would help with her anger problem before their marriage ended if they did not receive counseling. I told my preceptor I did not believe the marriage would survive. There was too much hate in the room and there was no one pill that could help it.