An all time personal favorite psychiatric patient of mine was a man that believed he was God….
He was a bit of an ornery old man, white hair with a full beard, maybe something like we would expect God to look like. They would let him watch the religion channel on television. I’m not sure this was entirely therapeutic or even appropriate all things considered, but like many questionable decisions made regarding patient care back then, I went along with it. We would see him watching ever so intently mere inches from the screen, nodding knowingly as the people on the screen spoke, especially when they prayed.
This patient was a bit “resistant” to medication as they say. In fact he was so resistant that taking any kind of daily medication by mouth was simply not an option, or you would most certainly have a fight on your hands. The solution came in the form of a monthly injection of an antipsychotic medication designed to work over an extended period of time, for just such a situation.
Tensions were high on “shot days”, for both patient and staff. His favorite staff members would be gathered from throughout the building, of all ranks and titles in hopes of keeping him calm for his injection and avoiding any ugly altercations. This plan usually worked, and he would receive his shot without a violent altercation, however the rest of the day would likely consist of threats of floods and other Biblical wraths that only a true deity could be capable of. Once calm, and back at his psychological baseline, he would always apologize for his actions. True remorse could be felt with his words, by his face, and his very presence. He would be moved to tears on occasion. Anytime there was any type of natural disaster on the news, he would become tearful, and apologize, after all they were his fault, for he was God. And on every “shot day” that I can remember….it rained….