The Diagnosis
[SCENE: DOCTOR’S OFFICE. JOHNSON, A MAN IN A BUSINESS SUIT IS SITTING IMPATIENTLY LOOKING AT WATCH. DOCTOR COMES IN, LOOKING THROUGH PAPERS ON CLIPBOARD]
JOHNSON: Thank God!
DOCTOR: Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry, am I late?
JOHNSON: Only seventeen minutes.
DOCTOR: I’m sorry, we’re having a very busy day today.
JOHNSON: Like I’m not. I...never mind. Did my tests come back yet?
DOCTOR: Yes, they did. All of your bloodwork came back this morning, and I had the chance to go over it carefully.
JOHNSON: Do I have hypoglycemia?
DOCTOR: No, it looks like you don’t. All of your tests came back negative.
JOHNSON: Then I do have ADD. I knew it.
DOCTOR: No, you’ve taken all of the tests for that, and you don’t fit the profile for Attention Deficit Disorder.
JOHNSON: Then what do I have?
DOCTOR: Well, I’ve gone over your medical history completly, and if you want my honest opinion, I’ll tell you, based on my experience.
JOHNSON: OK...well...what is it you think I have?
DOCTOR: You don’t have anything. You’re just a schmuck.
JOHNSON: What?
DOCTOR: At first I thought you were suffering from Work-Related Stress Syndrome. But you only work 30 hours a week as a night watchman. Then I thought you might be addicted to something, but just weren’t telling me. But none of your blood or urine tested positive for drugs. And then I thought you might have a point when you suggested you might have ADD, so I tested you for that. But when your tests came back negative, I started observing the way you interacted with the staff and the other patients. I also called your parents and talked to them.
JOHNSON: You called my parents?
DOCTOR: Oh yes, we had a long talk about what you were like when you were a kid.
JOHNSON: I don’t believe this.
DOCTOR: Try to look at it objectively. As a physician, I have to follow every lead possible in making a diagnosis. In your case it’s very simple. Diagnosis: Schmuck. You alienate everyone around you.
JOHNSON: Hey, I didn’t come here to be insulted. I’ve been living with this problem all my life.
DOCTOR: What problem is that?
JOHNSON: I got bad grades in school my whole life.
DOCTOR: Well that’s very simple. You were just too lazy to study hard.
JOHNSON: But I’ve had over thirty jobs over the years.
DOCTOR: That’s easy to understand too. Your co-workers just can’t stand you.
JOHNSON: Look, you can’t just say that I’m just a jerk.
DOCTOR: Mr. Johnson, your case is typical of a larger pattern occurring all over America. Thousands of people every year discover they’re hypoglycemic; i.e., lazy. Or they’ve got Attention Deficit Disorder; i.e., they’re a loser. Or they’ve got Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome: translation, they’re a jerk. The phrase of the day is "I’m not a jerk, loser, or lazy, I’ve got a Disease! I’ve got a ‘Condition’!" Well, I’ve had a enough of it. My prescription is, Take responsibility for your own damn life! If you’re a loser, be honest! Say, Hey! I’m a loser! If you’re a jerk, just say, "Hey, I’m a jerk! I happen to be highly successful and a terrific human being , but that’s what I am. Just because you’re not, don’t be asking me to make excuses for you!
(Nurse comes in. She is overweight. Goes over cabinet to get chart. Has to squeeze past patient.)
JOHNSON: That’s easy for you to say! You haven’t lived the life I have! If you had, maybe you’d be feeling differently.
DOCTOR: I’m sure I would be able to handle admitting it if I was a jerk, Mr. Johnson.
NURSE: Doctor, your two o’clock appt. called to say she’s going to be late.
DOCTOR: OK. Thanks Susan.
NURSE: Excuse me. (Can’t get past him.) Would you mind moving your chair? I can’t get through.
JOHNSON: Maybe you should try getting down to a size 22.
[NURSE doesn’t say anything, files chart and leaves].
DOCTOR: That’s what I’m talking about!
JOHNSON: What do you mean?
DOCTOR: What you just said!
JOHNSON: I said something wrong?
DOCTOR: That’s what I mean! You aren’t even aware of how you insult people!
JOHNSON: Well, what am I supposed to do? Never say anything because I might insult someone? I can’t make any comments about anything, whether it’s about the weather, politics, or your stupid tie?
DOCTOR: You think I have a stupid tie?
JOHNSON: Uh...no! I don’t think you have a stupid tie.... I mean most people, I mean some people would but I uh...don’t.
DOCTOR: Uh-huh.
JOHNSON: OK. Fine. I’m a schmuck. OK? Ever since I’ve been a child people have hated me. My parents used to say they adopted me and the agency wouldn’t take me back. But I can’t just say, "Hi, I’m a schmuck. I’m the biggest asshole you’ll ever meet!" I need a disease! I need to be diagnosed with something! I need an excuse, OK? Please! Have a heart! Give me a condition! Come on, please, you big fat slob! I mean... please help me, doctor.
DOCTOR: OK. OK. You’ve convinced me. I guess I can’t expect people to go around taking responsibility for being a jerk. I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a diagnosis right now. I’ll give you a terrific diagnosis! Let see... how about... "Personality Maladjustment Syndrome."
JOHNSON: That sounds great... except...
DOCTOR: What?
JOHNSON: Well... the abbreviation for that is PMS. Can I have something a little more...
DOCTOR: What?
JOHNSON: Macho-sounding?
DOCTOR: (Sighs) OK. Fine. How about... Masculine Maladjustment Syndrome?
JOHNSON: That sounds great!
DOCTOR: (Writing in chart): The underlying cause will be... testosterone poisoning.
JOHNSON: That’s perfect! How can I thank ever you?
DOCTOR: By paying your bill on time and staying out of my life.
JOHNSON: Thank you. Thank you so much. By the way, that’s a great tie. It just doesn’t go with your dumpy body. What I mean is...
DOCTOR: Get the hell out of here!
[JOHNSON makes a quick exit. Doctor looks at his tie uncomfortably in mirror.]
END.