I don’t know if it’s just me, or is mental health treated like an absolute joke in this country? I’ve seen countless examples that have just sent me into a state of rage because I can’t believe that something so important and so critical is so undermined and dismissed.
Mental health isn’t covered in our health insurance. Let me just leave that right there. Let it sink in and marinate.
There are countless people living with depression, anxiety, trauma and mental disorders. They’re all around you and you probably don’t even know it. Mental health, has in recent years, been brought to the surface and lightly discussed but let me tell you, it’s still stigmatized and always kept in the shadows.
Some families (who are very wealthy and educated) would rather pretend that their sons/daughters have a “Jin inside them” than admitting and accepting that their child is in fact ill and in need of desperate help. I say this out of real life examples I’ve witnessed and not just stating a silly opinion.
I set out to know what booking an appointment with a therapist entails. I asked around and did some research and ended up settling on three different places, all of which disappointed me immensely. The first clinic I called asked me to send them a 700 LE deposit straight to their bank account, without me even visiting the clinic. My problem wasn’t them asking me to send them money, it was in fact, the way their front desk secretary handled the call. It was an auto response with no emotion or understanding. She simply kept saying: “This is the rule” over and over. After sending out an extremely angry email, a sensible person from their management got in touch with me and explained. Their reasoning was as follows: “We are trying to make sure our serious clients who need help will find availability on our agenda instead of facing a lot of no shows, which negatively impacts the entire process.”
Now let me be logical for a minute. If the front desk had been trained to answer this way, it would’ve saved me a lot of trouble and anger. So just MAYBE (Underline, underline, captain obvious) the person taking appointments on behalf of the clinic needs to be properly trained and realize that they could, at any moment, receive a phone call from an extremely turbulent person and need to be equipped with the proper understanding and reasoning to answer them. The phone call ended with me screaming in her face saying things like “I am the one calling requesting your help” and “What do you even mean this is the rule, your rules make no sense, explain them to me.” Her response was simply “this is the rule.” Enraged and disappointed I moved on to my next clinic.
The second phone call was actually pleasant and professional. The prices, however, were anything but that. The secretary asked me to visit their website and told me to pick out my person of choice. I picked two people, an American and an Egyptian. “Could you kindly tell me about these two people.” I was clearly asking about their areas of expertise. The instant response I got was: “They are both two different fees. The American one is 2,000 LE an hour and the Egyptian one is 1,500 LE an hour.” How interesting? Thank u, next.
Why is this clinic clearly targeting expats who can afford such ridiculous prices? Are the Egyptian populous not worth getting affordable help with prices they can sustain? Nope. Clearly not. Why is the American one earning more than the Egyptian one? They both have a PhD. I had so many questions and I was still angry and confused. What the hell is going on? Why is it so hard for you to speak to someone when you need help.
The prices are ridiculous, the responses are ridiculous, the entire process is an absolute s!#$ show.
I had one last reluctant attempt left in me and I decided to go for it. “Hello! How can I help you,” greeted a sweet voice on the line. “Uh, hi, hello. I’m in desperate need of an appointment, could you kindly arrange one for me?” “Sorry dear, the doctor is booked until the end of February. Try calling back then.” I giggled a little. Not a happy one, not an angry one but an expecting one. “Thank you so much, I’ll call you then.”
I went into my office, shut the door, and began to write.
