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Please check out my latest post on “The Ink Blot” at Medscape/WebMD to read my thoughts on how challenging it can be to convince a patient (or the parent of a child) that they have a mental illness.
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“I’m interplanetary, my insect movements vary
It’s kinky if it’s hair, G, where I’m from
The firehoses blow, it’s purple wind and snow
I do a hit and go, SPLIT
It’s hip, what’s hip? When hip is just the norm
Cause Planets pledge allegiance to the funk in all it’s forms”- Lyrics to “Where I’m From” by Digable Planets
Today was a good day. On my walk to the hospital, I ran into a man who works as a “peer counselor” at my hospital and we had a nice conversation. When I stopped in a bodega on the way home, I ran into the man who recycles my trash and had a nice conversation. When I was walking my dogs in the park after work, I ran into two other folks who I know from the neighborhood. They both said, “hey doc, what’s up?” even though I never told either one of them that I was a doctor. It’s fascinating to me how they may have discovered this fact, and subsequently refer to me as “doc.”
The point of all this is that I love becoming a part of my community. I love that I know the folks who live in my neighborhood, and it brings me joy to know that I have friends interspersed throughout.
Was a busy but awesome day at the hospital today. Tomorrow is the big, yearly psychiatry residency exam. Time to eat and study!
Enjoy the photos with this post, both taken on my walk to the hospital today.
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“That boy needs therapy, psychosomatic,
That boy needs therapy, purely psychosomatic
That boy needs therapy
Lie down on the couch! What does that mean?
You’re a nut! You’re crazy in the coconut!
What does that mean? That boy needs therapy
I’m gonna kill you, that boy needs therapy
Grab a kazoo, let’s have a duel
Now when I count three
That, that, that, that, that boy.. boy needs therapy
He was white as a sheet
And he also made false teeth”- Lyrics to “Frontier Psychiatrist” by The Avalanches
Thanks to Shrink Rap for reminding how much I love the above song.
I had a good day on the adolescent girls inpatient psychiatry unit. Too hungry to write more at the moment.
Memorable exchange from today:
Me: So far I’m happy to see how much less violent the girls unit is compared to the boys.
Nurse: Yes, but girls can also be very violent, and very mean.
Me: You don’t have to tell me that…I have 3 sisters!
(Note: I love you, Julena, Briana and Corina!)
Photo: Me and my fellow “psycho” Diana, who donned a rain condom in preparation for the rain storm.
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“Boys will be boys. And even that wouldn’t matter if only we could prevent girls from being girls.”
- Anne Frank
Today was a good day. I actually ended up changing my mind over the weekend. I realized that I had decided to stay and rotate on the adolescent boys psychiatry unit out of a feeling of obligation. I knew that they were short staffed and could use the help. However, I realized that I wanted to gain a more diverse exposure during my second year of residency. So, I requested to switch to the adolescent girls unit for the month of October.
I enjoyed my first day with the girls today. I can already see the drastic differences with the girls. There is less testosterone and less physical violence. However, there is plenty of drama to go around. Also, since the unit has a lower census, I actually had the time today to THINK, which was a welcome change.
It’s time to study for my upcoming exam this Thursday. Enjoy the photos with this post, taken this past Saturday night of Oktoberfest fun (thanks, Chris! and shout out to Amanda, who reads my blog, yo!).
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“Walk into splintered sunlight
Inch your way through dead dreams
to another land
Maybe you’re tired and broken
Your tongue is twisted
with words half spoken
and thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do
to do for you to see you through
A box of rain will ease the pain
and love will see you through”- Lyrics from “Box of Rain” by The Grateful Dead
I just got home from a 16-hour day at the hospital. Adolescent boys galore.
Highlights from the day:
1. I made the decision to stay on the adolescent boys unit for another month. More on that to come soon. But the staff on my unit did seem pleased.
2. A nurse on another unit saying to me, “are you an emergency psychiatrist?” based solely on her impression of me from minimal interaction (and no emergency). That’s cool.
3. Getting accosted by a crowd of Hasidic Jews with sticks. (Lulavs are cool!)
4. Letting a kid beat me in spades as a form of therapy (no, but seriously, I could have won!)
5. Walking home in the rain. Not because I have to. Because I want to.
6. Egg and cheese with tomato on whole wheat toast sandwiches from cart guys who say to me, “hey doc, the usual?”
7. A wonderfully sweet mentally retarded (intellectually challenged) patient identifying me as “the nicest nurse.”
8. Diagnosing cellulitis.
9. Fist bumping.
10. Words half spoken.
Photo: Taken on my walk home from the hospital in the rain.
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“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”
- Benjamin Franklin
I just arrived home from another marathon day at the hospital on the inpatient adolescent boys psychiatric unit. I have every reason not to be typing right now, yet the comfort and release I attain from blogging is not rivaled by much else, so here we are.
I did not eat today, save for a banana stuffed into my face for “breakfast.” There simply was no time for it. Every moment of my day is occupied by my patients.
I was originally supposed to switch to the inpatient adolescent girls unit next month. However, as there will be no resident to replace me next month on the boys unit, and because the boys unit has been entirely busier than the girls, I received a request to stick it out and continue on the boys unit next month.
I have a million reasons not to do so. The paramount one being that I currently have no life outside of the hospital and I potentially would have one if I transferred to the girls unit.
However, I feel somewhat compelled to continue caring for my “boys.” In addition, I am familiar/get along with all of the staff on this unit. I am so tired that learning a brand new routine and set of staff seems like a huge task at this point.
I would have opportunities to work with girls in the future, if I so desired. (This is me convincing myself.)
Anyway, I will make the official decision by Friday. We shall see how it works out…
I have not eaten real food in over 24 hours, and I can’t begin to describe my hunger right now, so it’s time to Grubhub some sushi and wash the sweat from my fatigued body.
I hope you enjoy the photos with this post, all taken on my walk to the hospital yesterday. My obsession with “trash” aka discarded items continues….
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“They usually call death row the Last Mile, but we called ours the Green Mile, because the floor was the color of faded limes. We had the electric chair then. Old Sparky, we called it. I’ve lived a lot of years, Ellie, but 1935 takes the prize. That was the year I had the worst urinary infection of my life. That was also the year of John Coffey and the two dead girls.”
- Quote by Paul Edgecomb, from “The Green Mile”
I am tired. In lieu of words, please enjoy this photo taken on my walk to the hospital today and the accompanying quote.
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Please check out my latest post on “The Ink Blot” at Medscape/WebMD to read my poem about working on the adolescent boys psychiatry unit. (Ok, so maybe I cheated and recycled and modified the poem I wrote last Friday.)
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“Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.”
- Ray Bradbury
“If we weren’t all crazy, we would go insane.”
- Jimmy Buffett
I just got home from a 13-hour day at the hospital. Words truly fall dreadfully short in their capacity to describe my day today, and how I feel right now.
However, I am oddly compelled to express my thoughts. So I shall attempt to do so in a quasi-poem format:
“13 Hours”
Thirteen hours of madness
Fluctuating sadness
Antipsychotics lubricate
Food deprivation permeates
Murder, abuse and horror
Latex gloves are no barrier
We say irritability
You claim normalcy
Marijuana and sharpie fumes
Fear trapped inside unlocked rooms
Warm food from uncles in paper bags
Scribbles on prescription pads
Soft restraints
Physical complaints
Feces in bags thrown at us
Examine this mental status
Aggression flowers
In 13 hours
I need food, STAT. My job inspires me in strange ways…
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“Strange days have found us
And through their strange hours
We linger alone
Bodies confused
Memories misused
As we run from the day
To a strange night of stone”- Lyrics to “Strange Days” by the Doors
It’s 9:00 p.m. I just got home from a very looooooong day at the hospital.
As I was leaving the unit (adolescent boys inpatient psychiatry), I had a sort of mind-bending experience. I was chatting with some of the boys and discussing the latest in iPhone technology, and it suddenly occurred to me how very strange my job is.
I have put in very long hours at the hospital for the past few weeks. I arrive on the unit around 7:00 a.m. and rarely leave before 9:00 p.m. I take no breaks. I rarely eat, save for a protein bar or “egg and cheese with tomato on a roll” from the cart man outside the hospital shoved into my face while writing orders. I basically live and breathe teenage boys with A LOT of emotional turmoil, behavioral disturbances, social problems, etc., etc.
It’s a crazy, strange, mixed-up world.
From the moment I arrive on the unit to the moment I leave, I’m so busy putting out fires that I rarely have time to breathe. Or think.
And now that I’m home, I’m too tired to think. Or write.
Bodies confused.
Memories misused.
This is my brain retiring. G’night world!
Quote: Dedicated to Jon!
Photos: Taken on my walk home from the hospital yesterday. 1) “The Doors.” 2) “Flatbush Corp.”