The ADHD Test

“You’ve been well for a few weeks now.”

Dr. D says this in his forensic voice. The way a parent might say, “Hmm, the kids are too quiet.”

There’s something coming. I don’t know what, but this man has six degrees - including two doctorates - so he’s worth a listen.

“Do you have trouble concentrating?”

“Yes, when I’m depressed. You already know that.”

“How about when you’re not depressed?”

“Well, yes especially with adults, because most adults are painfully boring. Children are interesting and unpredictable, but on the other hand you don’t really have to concentrate since they don’t care so much, so. . ."

He cuts in. He always has to cut in.

“Most people don’t run eleven different threads of conversation at once.”

“Did I do that?”
I can see by the look on his face I have in fact done exactly that.

He puts a piece of paper in front of me; it's a series of questions with a ratings scale.

“Just tick the boxes and don’t think about it too much.”

“Thinking is what got me here in the first place, remember.”

It’s an ADHD symptom test.
I’m not surprised, since I burn more calories in a 1-hour meeting than people do running a half marathon.
I figure most people feel the same: they just don’t show it. Anyway, everyone knows the meeting’s over when the good biscuits are taken and only the plain ones are left - which is usually about ten minutes in.

I do the test.

My answers range from the middle to the far right.
In truth they should all be on the far right, but Dr. D has allowed for the Attempted Manipulation Factor.

In any case, I am not Normal.

Dr. D shows me his test. All the ticks are on the left of the page. Not even one in the middle.

“God you must have been bored.”

“I did it to show my patients where I am. It helps them understand where Normal might be."

“You once told me I didn’t want to be Normal.”

“Correction, I told you that you didn’t want to be average when you complained that you wanted to be a reasonably plump housewife in a floral dress with no interest in the world outside.”

“Average, normal . . . same.”

“A good example of how you’re not interested in the finer details. You know the difference, but you can’t be bothered listening.”

I get up and walk around the room.

“You’re bored now, aren’t you?”

“Well the test was fun but now it’s kind of dull.
Am I ADHD?! If so then I can tell everyone who’s still waiting and for me to write The Great Book that I am, and I’ll be totally off the hook.”

“Ah but we have medicine for that sort of thing. You’re not getting off the hook that easily.”

Are there NO perks to be abnormal?? 
Guess waiting for normal will have to continue...

Liz Fraser