The Social Security Void-Comp Test

I'm a huge fan of just about anything Science Fiction oriented (and so is my wife), and one of our favorite movies is "Blade Runner", directed by Ridley Scott. It stars Harrison Ford as a "Blade Runner", an agent of a police force designated to hunt down and "retire" renegade "Replicants". A Replicant is an artificial being created to perform tasks and serve humanity in ways that might be dangerous (working in space, for example) or gratify (prostitution). They look human, and are virtually undetectable from human beings.

To aid in the detection of renegade Replicants, the Blade Runners devised a series of questions that make absolutely no sense at all and are designed to provoke some type of response that is unique to Replicants and not humans. This is measured by a device that measures pupil dilations, breathing patterns, etc in response to the questions. It is called the "Void Comp" test. Respond in a certain way, and you're Human...in another, you're a Replicant.

The questions asked are something along the lines of, "You're in a desert, and you see a tortoise lying on its back baking in the sun, do you help it?" or some other nonsense like that. It is with some irony that I watched this DVD on Wednesday evening, and I had my psychological exam for Social Security benefits yesterday...and they had their own version of Void-Comp to see if I was "worthy" enough to claim the tax benefits that I've been paying into for almost 30 years.

As I mentioned in previous posts, I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've also been diagnosed by one psychologist as being moderately bi-polar. In March of this year, I had to change psychiatrists because my wife was now working and my old shrink was not in the new medical network. So I was lucky enough to get my current Psychiatrist (who I'll call Dr H) whose specialty is PTSD and addiction. His Practice usually doesn't take on new patients because it's at capacity right now, and he doesn't usually take on new patients within the Practice because he is the head of Psychiatry at three hospitals and on the Board of Directors that run all three. He's also the Medical Director of this particular Practice.

My wife is a Registered Nurse, and she approached another Psychiatrist who she knows well from her job in the Hospital that is in that Practice to see if she would take my case. She said she'd see what she could do. It turns out that Dr H wanted to take on my case himself. After two sessions with him, he suggested that I apply for Social Security Disability benefits because (as he put it), "I wouldn't put you in any job right now, including one where you have to ask 'Do you want fries with that?' ".

So Dr H already confirmed what I already knew in my heart; that I have some serious issues that need to be addressed before (and if) I can go back into the workforce. Some of these issues include (but are not limited to) being unable to concentrate for long periods of time (including writing this blog), being in large crowds of people, "zoning out" mid-sentence, and driving long distances...especially on the highway.

So after filling out a myriad of government paperwork that would make those forms in Terry Gilliam's "Brazil" simple to understand, faxing and re faxing (has anyone in Social Security heard of e-mail with attachments?), and a state government shut down in early July; they finally got around to me after 4 months of jumping through flaming hoops and spinning plates while "The Sabre Dance" plays in the background. ("...And next, we have Topo Giggio!"). They now have all the records of my latest physical, the hospital records from 9/11/01, both of my Psychiatrists' histories on me, and the insane forms that I filled out detailing why I think I'm worthy enough to receive my hard earned benefits.

So they want me to see their psychiatrist to see if Dr H (who has 31 years of experience and more letters after his name than some HTML programs) is correct in his assessment that I'm fucking crazy. So, off they send me to Dr Blade Runner (who only has half the experience of Dr H) armed with a letter telling me to report to his office at such and such a time and bring all of my current medications. So my wife drives me over there, then goes off to pick up my kids, and then will return to pick me up.

I knew this was going to be an interesting experience, because there was no receptionist in his office, only a sign that said "Push button next to who you are here to see and have a seat". I did that, had a seat and started to look for a magazine; needless to say every magazine on top of every pile was about the 5th Anniversary of the 9/11 attacks...not exactly my thing to read. (I was hoping to read FHM, but had to settle for a copy of New Jersey Weekly...much more my speed, but without the beauties on the cover) Another thing: why the hell would you even have magazines all over your office covering 9/11 when so many of us in the Northeast were affected by that?

A door opens, and out comes a smiling Dr Blade Runner wishing his last patient well. He sees me and obviously doesn't recognize me, but he sees the Social Security Letter and a zip lock bag with my meds in it. The expression on his face changed to one of, "Oh God...another Social Security case". Never shook my hand, never introduced himself...all he told me was he didn't even review my paperwork yet and had to get it in the file room. Like Garfield the Cat says, "This...is not good". After a few minutes, I see him thumbing through my documents from Social Security and he calls me into his office. (Cue up the Vangelis Soundtrack now, folks)

I'm going to give you a sample of what happened here: Dr Blade Runner's questions will be in italics, my answers will be in the standard font, and what I'm really thinking during the SS Void Comp Test will be in bold:

Did you drive yourself here?
No
If you read the papers, you would have known I have a bit of a problem with that.

How did you get here?
My wife drove me
I sprouted wings and flew

So what seems to be the problem?
I have PTSD

Do you know what PTSD is?
Yes, I've been in therapy for it for several years. I shake often, I have trouble concentrating, I'm uncomfortable with people.
So let me get this right, you have the MD after your name and you're asking whether or not I know why I'm fucked up.

Why don't you like people?
It's not that I don't like people, I'm a bit uncomfortable around large crowds and people I don't know.
Let's see...I was trampled on, injured, and running through the streets of Manhattan for my life...what part of this equation don't you understand?

I'm going to say three words to you, please repeat them back to me.
(He tells me the words, I ask him to repeat the question because I couldn't hear the second word, "tulip" and I repeat them back to him)
Ah...just like in Blade Runner last night...interesting!

Do you currently use drugs or alcohol?
No, I don't do either.
Ahhh...not lying here, he never asked me if I abused drugs or alcohol. Hey, that's why it's called Alcoholics Anonymous you idiot!

I'm going to give you a set of numbers, and I want you to repeat them back to me
(He gives me a set of numbers, and I get to about 6 or 7 digits)

I'm going to give you a set of numbers, and I want you to repeat them backwards to me
(He gives me a set of numbers, and I get about as far as 5 digits)
Oh, this is SOOOO Blade Runner!

What was your job prior to your illness?
I was a Vice President for a major Bank, I used to run a major incentive program with a $28 million budget. I also used to build databases for financial modelling and forecasting.
...and I was always on budget and could do complex calculations in my head; now I'm lucky if I could balance a checkbook you idiot!

I see you were prescribed XXX, that's usually for Bi-Polar disorder. Were you diagnosed as such?
Yes, moderately so. I was on a medical leave for a few months in 2004 before my job was eliminated after I became active again. I also worked full-time from home.
If you read the fucking reports, you would have seen that. Now, I'm starting to feel like a Replicant.

What happened in 2004?
Well, I launched off on my boss.

"Launched off"?
Well, I kind of had it out with him about something.

Did you assault him?
No...just a lot of yelling and screaming and lost my control
I actually wanted to throw the bastard out his plate glass window, but I didn't...otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here, I'd be worrying about dropping the soap in a correctional facility...

There were a few more questions, and then he asked me the final on:

Do you remember those three words I asked you before?
The only one I remember is tulip
...and that's only because I had to ask you to repeat the word twice already!

Then, he told me we were done...yes folks, your taxes at work!

The whole thing took about 15 minutes. He walked me out, told me that Social Security would be in touch with me. He explained that he just reports the answers to the standard questions that SS provides him and they'd be in touch with me. He just gets paid by SS, not me. He then put on that stupid grin again and called in his patient who was waiting...knowing full-well that he'd be getting full-price from private insurance rather than the US Government.

I went outside to wait for my wife and have a smoke. She arrived and asked me how it went, and what it was like.

I turned to her and said, "You're in a desert, and you see a tortoise..."

She smiled, and we drove off for home.