Monday, August 21, 2017

R.I.P. Martin Nicolai Nielsen, M.D. (1943-2017)

This controversial psychiatrist in Sussex County not only did a profoundly offensive disservice to me 30 years ago, but has been the most-complained-about p-doc in the county, with aggrieved patients cutting across varying lines of age, profession, and level of sophistication

About 13 or so other people, patients or advocates, with negative views of Nielsen will be noted below (identified or not as is suitable)

Subsections below:
[introduction]
A quick history of his involvement with the Newton hospital, during my high school years
If Dr. Nielsen arrived at the CMH in 1980, this was amid my college period, when I was away from the county
A CMH social worker’s verbal inroads and presumption were inflammatory, to say the least; Dr. N stonewalled a complaint
In the 1990s, I only dealt with Nielsen in a sort of default way of having him be a normal-consultation doc
Dr. N’s shortcomings would prove prodigiously numerous, and often sensational, among other patients
Other measures
My becoming a “critical-of-practiced-psychiatry” activist

[Edits 8/23/17. Edit 8/29/17. Edit 8/31/17. Edit 10/13/17. Editorial note 1/26/18: About two weeks ago, someone I'll refer to as Barbara L. e-mailed me and said Dr. Nielsen had gotten established as a doctor in the county in 1976, in Sparta Township. If this is so, it makes sense, because it helps explain how "Joan," whom I mention well below, could have seen him about 1980 and been egregiously snubbed by him--she must have seen him at his private practice. And I have no memory of him being at the version of the Center for Mental Health that existed from 1977 to 1979 (even though a Dr. Ira Kramer, a talking therapist I last saw in 1979, said on the phone from his New York location in 1987 that he had some memory of him); the only p-doc I knew from the CMH in 1977-79 was a consulting doc from Mendham. So it's quite plausible Dr. Nielsen was a private practitioner in Sparta from 1976 until whenever, and only started helming the CMH in about the early-to-mid 1980s. Edit 1/23/19: Here is a scan of an April 1989 letter from Rev. Ernest Kosa, and a later June 1989 letter from me to him, showing our dealing with improprieties at the CMH in 1987, which I started addressing with Rev. Kosa in 1989. My obituary on Rev. Kosa, at a later date on this blog has a link to a 1987 letter from Rev. Kosa.  Edits 4/22/19.]

I do not salivate at the prospect of writing about Dr. Nielsen, as if I can “take revenge,” as that would be too cheap to do, and anyway my obituaries are meant to be balanced, at least to some degree. I also wrote an obit on Dr. Ivan Goldberg in 2013, when he died that November. I wrote it as soon as I found out the news of his death, and I left the obit essentially as I wrote it off the cuff, as I felt was the best way. I especially have left the obit standing—and it is among my most linked-to blog entries—because, strangely, The New York Times or its ilk never did an obituary on him. Why, I don’t know, especially as he was a long-time fixture among Manhattan practicing psychiatrists, as well as an author.

I also felt I personally owed Dr. Goldberg the memorialization, since he had accepted the minor “burden” of driving to Sussex County no fewer than three times to give lectures I was arranging in those days. And at least one of the times, he drove himself (in his car that had the customized license plate with the inscription “SSRI”; he was in his seventies when he drove, and worked in Manhattan and had a home in Westchester or Rockland County, N.Y., I believe).

Dr. Nielsen is a far more ambiguous prospect (for a standard, positive representation, see an online memorial site on him here). I didn’t want to post a dark obit that held forth while his family was dealing with his immediate memorial services, etc., and I felt that for my own news purposes I need not post this immediately. Reasons for delay aren’t hard to come by; when a woman died in the county several months ago (last winter) who had been a several-year exponent of the local NAMI group, I considered writing a blog entry on her, and ended up declining. I had moderately strong feelings about her, as there were ambiguities about her to address, but they can be kept in reserve. Dr. Nielsen is a far different matter, due to his standing in Sussex County going back to about 1980, and due to his profoundly negative effect on me in 1987 and after.

Incidentally, a line in his obituary in The New Jersey Herald (August 11, p. A9) is, I feel, tendentious at best, and can be put into some question by even just half of what I have to say in this blog obit: “Nicolai was recruited to develop the Newton Memorial Hospital[’s] Center for Mental Health, which became a nationally acclaimed mental health center due to its quality care.”

While his family, as is their right, can represent that he had a role in setting up a mental health center in the county, I feel it must be said that (from anecdotal information I developed a rich trove of when with support groups here 10-15 years ago) he was, hands down, the most complained about (informally) psychiatrist in Sussex County in the past 37 years. His main faults, to the extent they can be safely generalized from a host of reports and remarks, were in his being not empathetic enough and relying too much on medication.

I would add to these two points the important quality he maintained of his aiming to build, shore up, defend, etc., a health practice as a business as if its business prerogatives were PARAMOUNT, while he felt empathetic service to patients was of secondary importance at very best. He might not have articulated this “principle,” but it was demonstrated in his behavior time and time again.


A quick history of his involvement with the Newton hospital, during my high school years

Dr. Nielsen apparently came to the Center for Mental Health at what was called Newton Memorial Hospital in about 1980. The MH center was very rudimentary at that point. When I first attended talking-type psychological counseling in Newton on a regular basis in 1976, there was a small set of professionals at what was called the “Family Counseling Center” on Trinity Street in Newton, N.J., and there were a few social workers there; I don’t recall if there was a psychiatrist there. In 1977, the Family Counseling Center basically moved to the hospital, in the old (original) part of the hospital complex (it was a forbidding old building, to me as a mid-teen, with high ceilings and some of the doors big; an old-time smoke stack loomed over the old building, in the back), and I saw my talking counselor (a social worker) there, after starting with him at the Trinity Street location. (This was Daniel Yurwit, who left the social work field many years ago. Prior to him at the Family Counseling Center, I saw a Robert Young, I think his name was, whom I have very few memories of. I saw him through December 1976.)

When I had to start seeing a psychiatrist for prescription of medication in winter 1978, who I saw was a consulting psychiatrist, Dr. Laurence Mundy, a Brit immigrated into the U.S., who was domiciled in Mendham, N.J., and had consulting status at the new Center for Mental Health. (Dr. Mundy died in 1997.) I don’t remember a Dr. Nielsen being there at that time.

From February 1978 to April 1979, after the Center transferred me from being seen by Mr. Yurwit, my talking counselor was Ira Kramer, a Ph.D., far and away the best talking counselor I had there, though when seeing him, I felt a bit alienated from him at times. It was one of the true cold learning experiences of my life. For medication I saw Dr. Mundy on a periodic basis. It was a straitened, sad time. As a function of progress I made (at least in part), I stopped seeing Dr. Kramer on a regular basis in April 1979, and from then on for close to a year at first, I only saw Dr. Mundy for occasional med checks. I would see a talking counselor again only in 1980, from March through August, about nine times. This was when I saw Bill Towle, another social worker (I believe he had been at the Family Counseling Center when I went there in 1976-77). This period of intermittent visits was in the wake of my grandmother, Gertrude Ludwig, dying by suicide in December 1979, though I don’t recall speaking to Bill Towle about this particular event.

(When I saw Towle's session notes from those days—I was in senior year of high school—they were remarkably banal, all the more so in light of his criticism in late 1986 of Dr. Kramer’s session notes of 1978-79, which were overall much more astute and ground-covering than Towle’s, if on the abbreviated side. I can interpret them based on my knowledge of what went on then. Mr. Towle’s notes could include something like, laboriously written out, “He has a new T-shirt from the college he’ll be attending. He doesn’t seem too excited about going there”—one of the great zero-foresight comments of all time by a counselor in my session notes.)

All this shows the humble situation I was in, related to dark struggles of my life. I don’t recall seeing Dr. Nielsen (passing in the halls, or otherwise present) at the CMH in 1980, either.

In sum, I saw a succession of talking therapists from about June 1976 through April 1979; a saw a "p-doc" from February 1978 on; and the only other talking counseling I had in the normal way was a few times from March through August 1980. After that, I never saw a talking counselor in the normal way again. I did, however, see a "p-doc" for periodic medication-check visits, from 1978 onward. [Added 8/31/17: This meant seeing a long series of different doctors, often for no other reason than a kind of doc turnover at the CMH. For details, see this Word document.] This was a routine established in my college years, when my competence as a person, both attending college full-time and working at paid jobs, was clear and was ongoing. For people not to understand how this limited regimen got started shows their lack of imagination and education on how psychological assistance can go, rather than anything about my being "perverse" in my use of such help.


If Dr. Nielsen arrived at the CMH in 1980, this was amid my college period, when I was away from the county

If you wonder why I shape this history according to my school career, the reason will become crystal-clear before long.

If Dr. Nielsen came to the CMH at any point in 1980, in any event this seems to have been within the first year that I was in college, when I was standing on my own feet (with limited use of psych professionals), forging my professional identity in school.

I would attend college from 1980 through 1984, and would live in the Washington, D.C. area (in Arlington, Virginia) until February 1986, working in D.C. Though I stopped at the Newton CMH a couple times in 1983 and 1984 on visits home (this was so routine and almost unimportant related to my med use that I barely remember these CMH visits), I saw a psychiatrist (again for routine med checks) at a strange facility in D.C. (the "D.C. Institute of Mental Hygiene," I think it was called) across from the entrance to the national zoo. From 1980 until 1986, I very deliberately did not see a talking counselor. In this period, I only saw psychiatrists for routine med-maintenance consultations. (This whole non-crisis situation ranged over many years, and should define my status as a patient like nothing else, though over the years since then, and among doctors not least, various people with not the best of motivations have interpreted quite other, usually ludicrously so.)

The limitations of what service I got, within my college years (two majors, awards for work in both, while I worked at a part-time job throughout, including 80 hours a week a couple weeks in summer 1983), should speak for itself. And it certainly puts the lie to the idea, which you hear floated at times and in various contexts, that if you get psych medication, you also must see a talking therapist, and that once you start down this route, you’re in the same “regimen” forever.

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In November 1986, after I had been living back home in the Highland Lakes, N.J., area since February, I was preparing to do VISTA service in Somerset County, N.J. I went to see Bill Towle (basically for the first time since 1980) in an intended one-off visit for a talking-counseling “consult.” As a premise for this, I thought he remembered, indeed had met, my family (my mother and my sister). In 1986, I consulted him about my mother (this objective was predominant and express; Towle even commented on my efficient manner in coming in [I had an appointment to keep to try to sell some record albums], as if there were something remarkable about it); I’d had concerns about my mother since returning home in February. This was an unavailing visit, to say the least. He had a litany of banal and expectations-limiting things to say (which I ended up detailing in a narrative that also included later, and much richer, developments). I expected never to see him again, and wrote him a letter expressing disappointment. I was off to VISTA service.

He eventually wrote back (my mother forwarded to me the letter when I was living in Somerset County), with his expressing being miffed. He suggested curtly that we should meet to “clarify matters.”

I wondered whether to respond to him. I did, and this led to the most conflagration-like experience I ever had with the mental health system.

(Its personal affront to me regarding a family issue was the essential problem; though its insulting me as an honored psychology student would also seem relevant, this was not the key problem in 1986-87.)

I had no idea that the CMH had changed its philosophy of operating since 1980. I was looking at how things unfolded (in 1986) purely from what my needs were (and based on my knowledge of it in its small-scale way in the late 1970s). And I just assumed Mr. Towle remembered me from 1980 (though I was mistaken about whom in my family he’d actually met then).

It could be said, in long retrospect, that the CMH went from—in the late 1970s, when it was very rudimentary—“passive mediocrity” to, in 1986, “aggressive mediocrity.”


A CMH social worker’s verbal inroads and presumption were inflammatory, to say the least; Dr. N stonewalled a complaint

Bill Towle’s contentions about my family were so outrageous; in the series of exchanges we had, both on the phone and in person, he alleged things about my father that not only were untrue, but were not supported by anything in my psych records (though he made a less-than-sincere attempt to back himself up with the same records). He had never met my father, who had died in 1970; and as a psychological professional, for him to allege what he did about my father (on no factual basis) broke some boundaries of professionally acceptable standards.

Let me not seem cagey: Over a few meetings in November and December 1986, Mr. Towle claimed, and I worked diligently within my own areas of proof (such as a frank discussion with my mother--all while I was working in VISTA [added: I drove home for the conversation with her, from Somerset County in the project van]) to verify (and debunk), (1) the idea that my father had been schizophrenic (false as to facts; and in counselor-ethics terms, a bad move to claim in Towle's absence of never having met him); (2) Towle's trying to back himself up via a written remark by Dr. Kramer (in 1978) in my files suggesting this "diagnosis" of my father, while the written record had Kramer's own qualifier "probably," and there is the 1970s-type looseness about the conception of "schizophrenia"; this "diagnosis" was on the reckless side on Kramer's part, and Towle's trying to use this in 1986, while hiding the records from me in our personal get-together, to justify himself, omitting the word "probably," was ridiculous (I have a copy of the relevant 1978 record). Accordingly, (3) also to be fought was the concomitant argument, just how Towle implied it, that I should accede in X treatment "because" my father didn't want treatment for his schizophrenia, a juvenile kind of argument in any event, and all the weaker for the lack of factual basis mentioned in (1) and (2). This was the worst aspect of many features of Towle's dealings with me in late 1986, and it helps explain the months of a complaint process that followed in 1987, which overall frustrating situation has haunted me, though increasingly faintly, in the decades since.

[Added 10/13/17: Towle's preposterous claims about my father included that my father didn't want to take antipsychotic medication he was allegedly prescribed, and not only was this false because my father was never prescribed this medication (nor was he ever diagnosed with something that would condition it), but there was not anything in my records at the CMH that could be construed to even remotely support this notion (I have copies, both hard-copy and electronic, of my CMH records that are relevant to this). My father was a type 1 diabetic, as led in part to his early death, a sort of issue that has haunted me for many years, in a way I won't go into here. Towle was reckless in how, in 1986, he showed a mixture of pulling false notions out of thin air and a willingness to fight me almost out of spite. This all might have been forgiven if the CMH didn't, when I complained about Towle, fight me for months in relation to what started with Towle's claims, with Nielsen capping the mess with weeks of stonewalling. I would find many years later that Towle was apt more generally to resort at times to false claims in dealing with a client/patient, as I heard in the support-group context from a patient that Towle had lied to him about something that was equal in importance to the father/medication issue, too.]

A memorial card for my father can be seen here (406 KB, color), in case you think I can't be respectful about old doctors on their demise. (My father died April 17, not April 18, 1970.)

Roughly ditto regarding my mother, whom he’d also never met before (to my surprise; yet he seemed to think he knew where things stood with my mother, especially as our consultations went on, even though he had no first-hand acquaintance with her [until one short phone call in winter 1987]). About my sister, he tossed off the glib notion that she’d had a “drug problem,” and that was it; this despite her having engaged in three years of mayhem, including her running away from home in 1978; the police being involved in some issues at least twice; my having to pick her up at a ski resort when she was so drunk that she couldn't stand up; her having (in 1980) a house party at our home that led to damage and stories between my mother and me for years; etc. And it all amounted to a two-word “drug problem.” With some hyperbole on my part here, it’s like someone attempting to be encyclopedic about Nixon by saying he had a “politics problem.”

(Among Towle’s presumptuous responses in [probably] my first visit with him in early November, he said I should work out my problem with Dr. Pfeiffer, the megavitamin huckster [which I’ve written about in my blog series on the Brain Bio Center]. As if I merely had a transient problem with Dr. Pfeiffer and NOT as if [as I was starting to come to terms with in great anguish in summer 1986] Pfeiffer was perpetrating a fraud that would be solidly regarded as such years later [as could be seen on the Internet today--see references to Stephen Barrett in this entry], and about the invalidity of whose therapy there was scholarly literature in a book in 1979 [which I got ahold of by early 1987], and even similar material going back to 1973 [which I never saw until many years later].)

Well, after my numerous exchanges with him through February 1987, as I first thought was quite worthwhile, I complained about Bill Towle to a series of workers at the CMH, which by then (1986-87) was hugely beefed up from the rudimentary, almost sad thing it was in 1978-79. (Its workers numbered in the dozens by 1986, including support staffers, after it had been a scant handful of people in 1978-79.)

As I was duly referred to during my complaint process, I spoke to Richard Finkelstein, Ph.D. (the immediate supervisor of Mr. Towle), who made an effort to be helpful (while hewing to the CMH’s prerogatives in some way), but ultimately wasn’t good enough (eventually, many years later, relations between him and me became patched enough that, after it happened that he hadn’t been working at the CMH for years but was in an independent group practice, I arranged for him to give no fewer than three educational lectures in my lecture-arranging period in the county of 2002-07, and he showed me no hard feelings from the 1986-87 complaint period).

Above Dr. Finkelstein in the chain of command, I spoke to a John McNaught (this was in April 1987, I believe), who to all appearances had never done counseling work and who had, I believe, a master’s in health-care administration [correction 4/22/19: he had an M.A., I don't know in what, and he had certification in health-care administration]. He was a stuffed shirt and, compared to Dr. F, he was distinctly less helpful (even was obscurantistic, such as to suggest in a letter in a baldly gratuitous way that it was unclear what I sought when consulted Towle the previous fall; not only do I have a 1987 letter from him, but I have a transcript of a conversation or two I had with him that year, one of which I taped, with his permission, in his office).

One thing McNaught was especially piqued by was my claim that Bill Towle had taken the “line of least resistance” with me. This has remained a good way to put what my beef was (though I would certainly stop looking for satisfaction from them regarding this, after I achingly and quixotically did this in 1986-87). His questioning this went right along with the CMH’s new philosophy of “aggressive mediocrity,” I think.

This whole situation I ended up (by 1988 or so) writing a collected, detailed narrative of, which was quite worthwhile; part was based on rigorously-taken notes of phone conversations, and part was actually transcripts of taped conversations. The whole thing remains a fascinating set of human exchanges that I would classify, if it were released in book form, as “lapsing-professional noir.” Adding to the shadowy oddness of it was the depressed condition I was in, following a demanding 1986 and with me serving in VISTA (here is a scan of the first page of a newsletter I made for the service I was helping set up, with the VISTA ID card superimposed in the lower-left corner of the scan).

(Not only was I interested in doing a sort of "nonfiction-novel" narrative, but I did research, over a number of slow-progress years, into issues of psychiatric practice for nonfiction purposes [a lot of this research was done at the medical library at what I believe was called the Robert Wood Johnson facility of UMDNJ at Piscataway, N.J.]. See here for a passage from a doctor who outlined the ethics of psychiatric diagnosis. In the sideways scan, the paragraph noted with the arrow--and see especially where I put brackets--speaks eloquently in contradiction of just the mishandling [regarding diagnosis] within the issues I presented at the CMH in 1986-87; that is, the article outlines how psychiatric diagnosis, and this in the context of inpatient settings [while I always operated in the outpatient setting], is handled in a systematizing way that runs against indicating respect for the dignity of the patient and his viewpoint. This is the sort of thing that I think Nielsen didn't recognize, and certainly did *not* act thoroughly on, at all. [8/23/17: This paragraph was written during tricky editing. The main point is that Nielsen clearly enough did not seem to recognize that psychiatric diagnosis, at least in an inpatient setting (not relevant to me and others in outpatient), involves an abstract way of regarding the patient, which a truly ethical person would realize was a paradoxical disposition to be in.]  Reference: Walter Reich, "Psychiatric diagnosis as an ethical problem," in Psychiatric Ethics, Sidney Bloch and Paul Chodoff, eds. [Oxford Univ. Press, 1981], p. 79.) 

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Intrepid in spring 1987 (but in what would be in a sort of “tragic” way), finally, I tried to appeal to Dr. Nielsen, who was next above McNaught. As it would turn out, the trouble really began.

Let’s recall again the line in Dr. Nielsen’s obituary:

“Nicolai was recruited to develop the Newton Memorial Hospital[’s] Center for Mental Health, which became a nationally acclaimed mental health center due to its quality care.”

And let’s also recall my assessment:

[He aimed] to build, shore up, defend, etc., a health practice as a business as if its business prerogatives were PARAMOUNT, while he felt empathetic service to patients was of secondary importance at very best.

For his part in what had become my long complaint process (five months total), he stonewalled. And stonewalled. By about July 1987, he claimed through a secretary to be unavailable due to vacation schedules, etc. This went on for weeks. When my patience had run out, I appealed above Nielsen to the Rev. Ernest Kosa, who was the drug-and-alcohol and mental health administrator for the county (and he wasn't located at the hospital, but had an office in a county government building, I believe). Rev. Kosa kindly wrote back that Dr. Nielsen was busy and it would take some time to review the case, etc. He acted as if I only need wait on Dr. Nielsen (as if Nielsen would have interacted with me in good faith when he had the time), and Rev. Kosa’s tone seemed promising, unlike Nielsen’s frosty aloofness.

I had to leave the area (for St. Louis) in August 1987 for graduate school, and Nielsen—after requesting I give proof I was going away to grad school, and out of indignation, I refused—remained in his own role in the complaint process as one of stonewalling/nonaction until I left the county.

(Interestingly, when I phoned Dr. Ira Kramer in April 1987, among other things—he remarked as soon as I greeted him with my name, “I remember that family!” as if he was a bit daunted by us Ludwigs—he said he remembered Dr. Nielsen [which would mean Nielsen was there in 1979, the last year Kramer was there, which I find surprising], and I should be able to find him reasonable.)

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When I was back in the county in 1988, I dealt with Dr. Finkelstein at the CMH to get copies of records, etc. I was in a humbler process of gathering information, partly for my own purposes, not necessarily for a complaint. I don’t remember trying to deal with Nielsen in 1988.

In 1989, I tried to pursue a subordinate issue with Nielsen, including (as I found) a counselor’s having violated (in the process of my 1987 complaint) the hospital’s own policy about access to records in dealing with my complaint in 1987. Still no answer from Nielsen.

In about May 1989, I appealed to Rev. Kosa, who met with me in his office at the hospital. He was cordial and even quite nice. He spoke of being vexed by Dr. Nielsen’s stonewalling even him about my complaint when Rev. Kosa duly inquired. (Rev. Kosa mentioned to me, as a World War II vet [4/22/19: I'm not sure about the WW II connection, though I had a memory he mentioned this to me; but a report shows he was a chaplain in two later U.S. wars], how in the old days you carried your medical records around, as if things were vastly different then from 1989 days where bureaucratic prerogatives could trample on your rights regarding medical records.)

(By the way, here from early 1987 [1 MB file!] is a color scan of a letter I received from the Sussex County Office of Aging when I was quixotically looking into helping run a center in Sussex County like the one I was working within in Somerset County, the “PeopleCare Center.” Also, here (975 KB file!), when I was domiciled again in Sussex County and way back in 1988-89, is a scan of letters to editors that I wrote in those plodding-editorial days. The last page has a big letter on "Prime Care...," which was a corporate entity, emanating out of the Newton hospital's Center for Mental Health, that was trying to set up a group home in Andover Township, and apparently ran into serious flak from the public there, because Prime Care--consider that Nielsen probably was a big motivator behind it--was too high-handed in opting for that group-home location. An earlier letter in this scan-set, on the first page and small and to the left and from 1988, touches on this discussion.)


In the 1990s, I only dealt with Nielsen in a sort of default way of having him be a normal-consultation doc

I was done dealing with Nielsen until the early 1990s. While I was going to the CMH as the main psych facility in the county, following a med-check stint with Dr. Steven Sarner in 1988-91, for medication follow-up I was seeing Nancy Grossman, a D.O., from 1991 through 1995, while working at the first phase of my editorial career (All American Crafts; AB Bookman; CPG; then freelance in 1995). Eventually I found that, as Dr. Grossman found objectionable, there seemed to be some issue of Dr. Nielsen second-guessing other doctors’ work at the CMH. He seemed to want to change or modify diagnoses of patients, such as what she did with me. (The standards-related unacceptability of this move of his should be obvious.)

This second-guessing stuff he was doing was one reason Dr. Grossman was leaving the CMH. (I would be in touch with Dr. Grossman again, cordially, in an informal e-mail exchange sometime after about 2002.)

In 1995, just before many workers of the CMH (with Dr. Nielsen as their head) would leave the CMH en masse and set up InHealth, a group practice first located in Sparta Township, N.J., I started seeing Dr. Nielsen (when he was still at the CMH) as my “p-doc” for med follow-up. [Added 8/29/17: InHealth, as a separate corporation operating within the CMH, was formed in 1992, I believe.]

A risky proposition, you say? I had little other choice (as there was no other psychiatrist to see, with Dr. Grossman gone, other than Dr. Sarner, whom I’d left in 1991 and didn’t want to see again), and I thought I would be optimistic and try to be constructive with him.

I moved with him when his new practice InHealth went to Sparta (the CMH at the hospital became a shrunken pile of leavings as a result). Before long, he saddled me with an unacceptable diagnosis I fought against. In 1995, when (1) I was at a temporary editorial job at Reed Reference Publishing and I had lightheadedness phenomena related to my medication, and when (2) a company HR person wanted me to supply emergency info tied to this, Dr. N expressed (in this case, proper) hesitation at conforming with their demand. But the information he ended up providing in a signed letter did not acknowledge the actual phenomenon I was experiencing, but talked only in hypothetical terms regarding possibly lightheadedness tied to my med, and concomitantly gave a banal possible treatment for it (my lying down), which any idiot could have thought of. I.e., he was being evasive about my specific health issue.

(Incidentally, it was shortly before this that I’d had published, among other medical items I’d written when working for CPG, an article on medication, related to side effects, that involved my working from a conference tape and even consulting with the author doc by fax or the like. See here. As it happened, for my writing-related purposes, I shared this article with various professionals, communicating by mail, whom I located in various ways. I forget the context of this, but I got this response from a Dr. Lee Tempel in 1994 to a letter I sent him that was accompanied by a copy of the vitamin E article.)

This conforms with how, in addition to (by 1986) the CMH’s engaging in “aggressive mediocrity,” it also followed this much more plausible (if not entirely respectable), and I think fairly universal, model for a health-care facility: among the doctors, minimize the sense of personal responsibility (to the patient) and heighten vigilance to guard against legal liability. (This sort of practice could be seen in a New York Times article some years back [in 2013?] looking in close detail at a young man who misused ADHD medication, with his feverishly getting prescriptions for it, and ending up dying. Session notes were quoted, and they had the same old thing I saw in latter-year CMH notes, sketching what a doctor did and minimizing close attention to the patient’s picture, while guarding against liability.)

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Finally, in 1998, when I fought with Dr. N one more time about a diagnosis he had for me (which no one has seriously given me since, nor had anyone before), he changed the record “in accord with what I contended” and threw me out of his office. This was a distinction to be proud of (a “Nixon’s enemies-list honor”).

(For a sense of how I was faring in work, compare this scan [279 KB] of a page from a reference book from 1998 that shows information on me—look for my name in about the middle—and shows how I was doggedly pursuing my career interests, no thanks to the CMH docs.)

In 1998, nervous in the wake of Nielsen's sudden shove-off, I went back to the, by then, erratic CMH (which was under new management) for use of p-docs for medication follow-up, and would do so until about 2007.

(Dr. N could have taken credit and solace in that the erratic nature of the CMH after he had left it with InHealth in 1995 only became worse thereafter, as I would find firsthand starting in 1998. But also his own separate group practice would shrink over years, to the point that, apparently, in his last years, it was basically just himself, with his wife [a nurse and a key worker there], an office manager, and maybe one or two others, from what I can gather from a Google review posting.)

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I did not have dealings regarding Dr. N again until 2002, when I was starting to arrange lectures for a DBSA group in Sussex County. He had been suing a former colleague, Dr. Sandra Squires, for her leaving InHealth in 2001 to start her own private practice in Sussex County; he sued her for violating a contract provision of InHealth that a doctor in the group shouldn’t set up a competing practice within a five-mile radius of InHealth’s location (within a certain period). The suit went on for months (there was an article about it in The New Jersey Herald in January or February 2002, possibly in December 2001); at one point I spoke with Dr. Squires’ attorney to offer help (some details of what he said will be conveyed below). Finally, as Dr. Squires had changed her situation to be the in-house psychiatrist within the psych-inpatient unit of the CMH, the suit was dropped.

As may seem ironic, in about February 2002, I sent a letter or fax to Dr. N asking if he would do one of our (DBSA’s) first lectures, but with a catch, which I knew would effectively give him cause not to do it (as I really didn’t want him to do our first lecture anyway): our lectures would implicitly (and necessarily) affirm patient dignity. No surprise, he opted not to lecture (though he had lectured for the DBSA group in about 1992).


Dr. N’s shortcomings would prove prodigiously numerous, and often sensational, among other patients

If it was just based on my own experience with Dr. Nielsen, I would have affirmed (with all good faith and no small amount of solid emotion) that he was a psychiatrist in the county who stood out above all others for leaving much to be desired (in not just a precious, too-idealistic way you assessed psychiatrists). As I’ve said, he placed administration of a group practice, with himself as president, above all other considerations as a psychiatrist. For whenever it mattered, I had no problem (in terms of factual basis) with being apt to speak highly critically of him from my own experience, but I would find from being richly involved with the DBSA and NAMI chapters in the county that many other patients (or advocates) had such negative things to say about him that they cemented his status as the most complained-about psychiatrist in the county, beyond question and by a long shot.

The following is from an updated version of my manuscript The Temps (some of this repeats some of what I said above):

After 1998, a year in which he essentially threw me out of his office (by then he ran his own MH facility separate from the hospital’s) (this throwing-out was over an issue I persistently raised regarding his diagnosing me) and our three-year association as doctor/patient was effectively (and relievingly, for me) at an end, I would find the following: (a) numerous patients in a support group nexus in the county (two groups, actually, of the DBSA network [Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance] and the NAMI network [National Alliance on Mental Illness]) had complaints about him, essentially, and in a most-common-issue fashion, these complaints conveyed that he medicated too much and wasn’t empathetic enough. Among patients with testimony about this were a (former?) stewardess (roughly middle-aged), another woman who was in her twenties (as I pretty much recall), and (as someone who had seen him in about 1987) pseudonymous Betty (who is a major focus of my unpublished memoir A College Try that Courted Trouble); she is the age-about-43 woman I helped (as a support-group leader) extensively, including in a domestic-abuse issue she was mired in, in 2002-03. I know there were two or so other patients from that time with other, distinct-enough complaints about Dr. N, but I can’t offhand recall their reports or who they were (even blurrily remembered).

(b) The most atrocious story came from the longtime leader (1993-2002) of the county chapter of the national network DBSA, “Joan,” who reported that in about 1980, she tried to make an appointment with Dr. N (presumably when he was at the hospital’s CMH) and he essentially declined, on the basis of that she couldn’t afford him (or such; this was curious of her to say, because I knew the CMH, which I’d been going to in about those years, had a sliding-scale capacity for payment); and in the wake of this, she almost committed suicide, as she said.

(c) Another remark strongly critical of Dr. N came from a woman, who was a social worker or such (I believe), who helped run the NAMI group in about 2002; she claimed Dr. N was an alcoholic (that I’m not sure I believe).

(d) Another woman who judiciously helped run the NAMI group for several years, Rita Wright (who has since died), said her son, who saw Dr. N as a long-term patient, hated Dr. N. [Added for this blog, to show family responsibility: Wright's daughter Peggy had been a news reporter for The New Jersey Herald and, for many years more recently, a reporter for the Daily Record in Morris County. She has written occasionally on mental illness.]

(e) Another issue with Dr. N that actually was reported on in the county newspaper [the New Jersey Herald] was that he had a lawsuit, lasting quite a few months, against Dr. Sandra Squires, when she left the group practice he formed in about 1995 when he left the hospital and took numerous of the CMH’s workers with him. After a few years in the group practice, Dr. Squires wanted to work in the county independently of Dr. N’s practice, and then he sued for what amounted to something like violation of a non-compete clause in their contractual arrangement (she counter-sued him). The lawsuit was reported on in the county newspaper in early 2002. Eventually the two doctors dropped the suit against one another, as Dr. Squires started working at the psych-inpatient unit at the county hospital (where the CMH was).

(f) In early 2002, when the lawsuit was still pending, I spoke to the attorney representing Dr. Squires, generally in order to see if I could offer her side some support in terms of anecdotal information. Amid our relatively brief phone discussion, the attorney remarked that Dr. Nielsen was regarded, implicitly fairly widely, as a “big jerk”—this comment was what the attorney was acknowledging in the process of pointing out to me the issue (related to a forward-looking strategy to the case) that he really wanted to focus on, which was (I think) the need for Dr. Squires to serve a certain segment of the psychiatric-needs population in the county, the pediatric. Anyway, the attorney’s “big jerk” phrase sounded as if he’d had a fairly good whiff of what general wisdom circulated about Dr. N.

Then, (g) as one last patient-based droll particular in my “case” against Dr. N, “Anneka,” a fellow support-group attendee with whom I went to educational meetings in Morristown for years, had seen Dr. N as her doctor for years until about 2013. I spoke casually with about the negatives about him and she seemed oddly impervious to my stories. Finally, she (who at first seemed so apt to “look past” the many anecdotal negatives I could relate about Dr. N) stopped seeing him, and started seeing another psychiatrist in another county; her issue with Dr. N was essentially (and not super-specifically speaking) what many others’ was, that he overmedicated and wasn’t empathetic enough.

[end of Temps stuff]

Interestingly, I found some Google-hosted ratings of Dr. Nielsen (a scan of the printout is here). You can add these to the set above; I don't know any of these people. These three were the total available at the page that this scan is from. Note that the woman who with her autistic son was dismissed from Dr. N's servicing them means that I had the somewhat-grim honor of being among several who were "shunned" by him: the three-or-four of us include "Joan," whom I mentioned above, in about 1980; and this woman and her son. Another person, Amy Munoz, who wrote a long review not accessed by me when I printed this page, reflects having been cast off by Nielsen's practice via his wife, in a practical sense set in motion by the office manager.

The number of patients and advocates from my Temps accounting, combined with the Google review people just mentioned, total about 13 or more. You can guess as to whether there are more.


Other measures

Dr. Nielsen’s way of being widely criticized, if not condemned, was not something you would think likely on meeting him. He seemed intelligent and level-headed, cordial. That he had played classical guitar was evident from a poster on his office wall in the 1990s. But that he could stick to his guns with some narrow way of interpreting you didn’t take long to be appreciated and objected to (and I’m sure he had some resentment toward me, since 1986-87, that was a driver of how he handled me in the 1990s).

He even was the only Sussex County psychiatrist listed in a legal-services booklet (my evidence is from, as I have a copy of a page from [not related to Nielsen], the 2009 edition of the reference book The Legal Pages, published by a firm apparently called the Law Diary, located in Newark, N.J.; you can find it in a public library in this state) as doing forensic psychiatry for the local area. Which could be called “another way he could be a prick.”

All this does not sound lovely, and my tone here is about as “nice” as can be managed given the many complaints about him.

One wonders why, if he so consistently failed to exercise empathy toward patients as numerous such people, from varied backgrounds, have felt compelled to remark on—why did he opt to be a doctor, or at least a psychiatrist? As someone from a family of health-care professionals—my father was a dentist, my mother was a hospital technician, and I have a degree in psychology (though I never worked as a practicing counselor)—I know empathy is a key factor in being a health-care professional (even though for specific practitioners, this ability may decline at times, or over time). With Dr. Nielsen, he seemed consistently to have missed this point about empathy.

In character for him, when I talked to him about borderline personality disorder in 1995, he remarked that this essentially meant the patient was a “pain in the neck.” Dr. Goldberg’s generalization about BPD (see extracted quote within this entry) shows some generosity (based on Dr. G’s elastic attempts to help the patients) amid the humor. Dr. N’s remark, however off-the-cuff and meant to show humor, has more of the cheapness that seems to have characterized him over a range of his dealings with patients.


My becoming a “critical-of-practiced-psychiatry” activist

In one way, Dr. Nielsen opened up a new vista to me. In 1986-87, when I was grossly insulted by the CMH’s handling of my complaint process as if I was a “nothing-but-trouble” patient, and after my glorious years majoring in psychology in Washington, D.C. (going to show one example, and the very best, of how my biggest steps of progress in my career and life have been outside of the cesspool-of-pettiness that is New Jersey), I began to learn about, and promulgate views and helpful technical information in, the patient-centered movements that were available in the late 1980s.

Dr. Peter Breggin, in his own controversial way, inveighed against the excesses of practiced psychiatry in books and media presentations that were starting to make waves by 1987. (I wrote to him and got a response in early 1987.) I got in touch with David Oaks by 1989; located in Oregon, he ran the journal Dendron, as well as the group that first was called Support Coalition International and eventually was called MindFreedom. I have tons of material at home (amid other tons of material on other subjects) related to such patients’ rights activity and publications. This was all before I got involved with the more “establishment”-type DBSA and NAMI from 2001 through 2007.

As I came to feel in no uncertain terms (on rich experience and deep emotions), the Center for Mental Health under Dr. Nielsen was an exemplar of how not to run an honest mental health facility. From 1988 to 1995, that facility seemed to be about nothing so much as doctors’ denying medication side effects and (within med-check visits, anyway) their being stubborn about how to talk to you about what issues you brought up and address issues of diagnosis. This was especially painful when I was going through the grind of publishing jobs with their own weird pressures from 1990 through 1994.

Accordingly, in my private (speculative) writing efforts (and occasional letters to editors), and even with some paid editorial work for a medical publisher, I often based some of my positions (or my clues for further research) on certain psychiatric issues on how, if the CMH seemed to follow X policy with talking to the patient about certain meds, the real, academically-based way to do it (or the way top-notch doctors outside the county would do it) was the opposite, or certainly different. It was amazing how consistent this practice of mine could soundly be. The series of lectures I helped set up (see a blog entry listing them here, most of which were well attended and which even involved some artistic touches, were good not only for their content but because in their philosophy they tacked away from how the CMH seemed to think, which was of patients as sacks of unfortunate chemicals.

The notion at large that gets bandied about so much—“We want to return patients to the community where they can get community support”—really depends on what you have available “in the community.” And if the community MH center is a disingenuous SHITHOLE, this doesn’t do much for the patient.

Dr. Nielsen’s heading InHealth lasted a long time (from 1995 to the 2010s, I guess), but that facility shrank over lengthy time, and various doctors (as suggested by Dr. Squires’ example, and Dr. Finkelstein’s some years earlier) left working with him, suggesting that Nielsen wasn’t an endless fount of having all local professionals cleave to him. His last practice in Lafayette, N.J., seemed to rely in part on Suboxone treatment of patients (which strikes me it can be done in ratcheted-through fashion) for its routine bread and butter.

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