you’re gorgeous

the day starts with me waking up late. i manage to save time by throwing my hair up and rushing this morning, only to still be late sans shower. thank goodness psych is low-key so going a day without showering isn’t as gross as if i didn’t shower during surgery (blood, guts, pus – you know the deal).

in the afternoon, i go to visit my patient that is soon to be discharged. he’s a very friendly man (even when in an acute psychosis) and he and i bonded over the beatles. when i arrived, he was working on some art work using those refrigerator poetry words that you can arrange in any fashion you like. as i look at his assemblage of words, i notice how many of them correlate to his life and the hardships he has faced – alcoholism, copd from his smoking, the recent death of a family member. as i sit and watch his participating in this art group, occasionally talking to him, he holds up the word ‘gorgeous’, and says, “you’re gorgeous”. i was very flattered and slightly embarrassed but i see the word courage and without thinking, i pointed to the word and told him i thought he had courage. at this he looked up at me, straight in the eyes, and thanked me.

it’s really hard to share the intensity of the moment with readers in the regards that it’s really difficult to explain. there was no awkwardness. just two people knowing the hardships a man has faced.

HOWEVER – i will note that not all patients give that wonderful rewarding feeling or great physician/pt relationship. for instance, with the psychiatrist, we entered the room of a patient that had continually refused to talk to me or anyone else for that matter. the patient talked relatively openly with the doctor (which shocked me because it was the first time i had ever seen this pt talk to anyone). most of what she opened up about ended up being untrue, but she actually spoke to him. at the end of their discussion, he said that he would like for the pt to talk to me later in the afternoon, to which the pt replied, “no, i don’t have anything to her. she probably doesn’t even have a college degree….or a high school degree. yeah, she probably didn’t even graduate from high school.”

“no, she graduated from both of those.”

“no, she didn’t. and tell her to wash between her legs after she does that.”

of course, this was all said right in front of me as though i wasn’t there. i don’t know what i’m supposed to wash after, and i don’t want to venture a guess. man, awkward.

do you laugh or cry?

ah the life of psychiatry…i don’t think i could have picked a better time to post this.

 every morning, i round on patients with the psychiatrist, sometimes earlier on my own, sometimes just with that psychiatrist. in the afternoon, it’s basically my prerogative whether or not i wish to go back and talk to them again. i usually do because we have lecture late in the afternoon/evening.

today was one such day. i was interviewing a patient for the first time on my own, and in general, things were going pretty well. he was answering my questions with appropriate answers and asking me questions relevant to his health – he at one point named the different kinds of lithium, something i don’t know and i’m the medical student.

at this point, he asks me what i am (when you see many people in the hospital as a patient, it becomes difficult to distinguish what people are, especially since everyone apparently now wears a white coat…a topic for another day.) anyway, i tell him i am medical student and that i will be a doctor.  then the conversation goes something like this:

“oh i’m a doctor. you wouldn’t believe it but i am. mine name is dr. mezbaum.”

“could you spell that for me?”

“m-e-z-b-a-u-m”

“what type of doctor are you?” as i write down this information…

“oh you don’t need to write this down…sometimes i just say things. because i’m a robot. have you heard of zapping?”

thinking he’s talking about electroconvulsive therapy i say yes.

“well i’m a robot, and i’m being controlled by the police department. and every time they zap me, i do something. i worked at the general hospital for 75 years as dr.___ (couldn’t understand the name) and at the city hospital for 50 years as dr. ______ (different name i still couldn’t understand). i did radiology for awhile; i really like radiology.”

“do you just work as a doctor?”

“no i do other stuff too. i build homes. hundreds of homes. i work for the president.”

“you must be very busy.”

the patient shrugs, “well, that’s the life of a robot.”