By Jeremy Katz
updated 12:01 p.m. ET, Sun., July. 13, 2008
I sit in the glass-walled nurses' station, waiting for my day to begin. A steady stream of people — all living with obsessive-compulsive disorder, or OCD — approach the half door and utter some variation of "I have to go to the bathroom." The attractive young woman on duty smiles and hands over a small quantity of toilet paper, a squirt of soap in a specimen cup, and a paper towel with a cheery "Here you are!" This is what grade school must have seemed like to George Orwell. Read More
No comments:
Post a Comment