The doctor doesn’t eye me suspiciously before printing the prescriptions like I expected he would; he just flat-out refuses while staring at the screen. He says he wants a letter from my previous GP. How do I explain that I don’t have a GP? How can I detail my thirteen-year career as a consumer of mental health service – from Canberra to Newcastle, Sydney to Cooma, and back to Canberra.
“I slept with a rolled up hand-towel under my freshly shorn (still grieving) skull.”