Bus Surfing

"Let's make money…", Alex, one of the nurses at the hospital joked, as he filled up his DTR (Daily Time Record), which would be the basis for his month's wages. (In the government service, this little piece of paper, which is filled out in triplicate, will be submitted to the institution's financial officer and be used as a basis for how much you are going to get for the month. )
 
I made mine too, and I realized that this was the last I was ever going to fill up for my current hospital. It's a breeze to fill out for us doctors because we have set duty days, all we have to do is fill out 48 hour weeks, and then some some. My DTR for this month looked pretty funny. It seemed like I had spent half the month on vacation (well, sort of, I was in Manila for patient endorsements at my new hospital :)), and then in the the second half of the month, I was working my butt off, doing back-to-back duties. I have only two more duties to go (a 48-hour stint)…which starts tomorrow. Right now, I'm almost ending my shift, and so far, it's been relatively light as compared to the past few days.

I saw "Sprewell"  again today…it was a nice surprise. :) He came in for something relatively minor, but that was ok. It's always nice to see the little dude. He's always been one of my favorite patients after he stole my heart some months ago when he got admitted. :) he's in the "terrible two's" stage and his mum ( a relatively young, pretty young lady who might as well have been his older sister) said that he wasn't eating as much and would just keep running around, too active to eat. (For some reason, I thought that was so cute.)

Sprewell, December 27, 2010.

Anyway, I could see how active he was…always running around, and one time, he even clambered over the counter to check out my side of the wall. When he got bored of playing with my penlight, he went straight for my camera. When I showed him the picture I took of him, he seemed very pleased with himself. I recorded him "in action", but of course, I couldn't get him to sit still.



:)


It was a nice surprise to see the little bugger, of course.


------



I still have like, 3 inches worth of hospital paperwork that I have to finish… but I still have 72 hours left to finish them anyway, so I'll get back to them again after this entry.



Of course.


(haha. No more doing things at the last minute-ish. Lol.)



J



---- 
There's this new workout regimen that I've discovered...something i'd like to call "Bus-Surfing". It's a good workout, i suppose, and how long it's going to take depends on whether someone is chivalrous enough to offer their seat to you...so you won't have to stand the whole way...

The "Full House". December 23, 2010.

  These past few days, it seems that I'm at the hospital everyday...and I take the bus both ways. I've noticed that it's been on "Standing Room Only" status everytime... Most days I'd be all packed up (15 kilos, max, in my backpack) and then have to stand for like, maybe 2-3 towns before I get a seat...

 

Tire Change. December 23, 2010.

You'll never catch me snoozing. 

Both ways. Standing up. I should be thankful, i'm getting a good arm work-out (from hanging onto the bars for balance), back workout (from trying not to sway while carrying the heavy backpack (Jansport, you rock.), leg workout (from trying to stay upright in a moving bus, with added "weights"), flexibility (from squeezing into the little corners) and balance (from trying to go with the bus as it "careens" through the twists and turns. <-- Ok, I exaggerate, but then again, you get the idea, right?

It's one hell a workout. One can seriously lose weight with "bus surfing."

:-p

---- 

Just a few more  days until the big "psychodynamic leap", and here I am talking about Work and Bus Rides...when I should be reading on how to manage other peoples' mental well-being.

Tsk tsk... I seriously need to squeeze in a vacation from work.  Oh wait, I can... I DO have a day and a half after tomorrow's 48-hour stint to take a break... before going on duty at the "best" (and I say this with pride. ahem) training hospital in the Philippines. :-)

---- 

Heaven help me. ;-)

Photo: Daddy's Girl

Gail does back-up for her dad on Videoke. (I just loved the expression on her face!)

(BDH Christmas Party, December 21, 2010.)

Slow Dance.

I do believe I want to slow-dance to this song next time...

Adventures of the Country bumpkin

Parols at the balcony of the 2nd floor of the Silliman Medical Center. December 20, 2010.

So far, it’s been a slow day at work (thankfully enough). Like I was joking to one of the nurses on duty earlier, “It’s Christmas, people should stay in their houses…and behave.” He laughed at this (but he ended his shift without having to do a lot of paperwork aside from the usual charting jobs anyway.)

Oh, but it’s not a perfect duty schedule, of course…there have been a couple of vehicular accident victims who have had a little too much party alcohol and crashed their mopeds. No serious injuries, but still, I’m making them stay overnight for observation (when I asked one where if he knew where he was, he said he was in X City, which was, funnily enough, an hour away from our hospital in the opposite direction, hence the stay.)

----

It’s not always like this, so I really “cherish” the downtime. For a sleepy town, you’d be surprised at the number of cases that I get to see and treat. There is an occasional “medical marvel”, but mostly, it’s your usual, run-of-the-mill common aches and pains, urinary tract infections, minor surgical infections, normal spontaneous deliveries…all mostly handled at the primary care level. If there is a need for further evaluation and diagnostics, the cases are referred to a tertiary hospital.

What we doctors do here is very far from what you would call cutting-edge medicine, but for most of the people here (a majority of them indigent), it is the most accessible and the best primary care facility for miles around.

I won’t lie. My initial reaction to this place was that there was such a profound lack of the things I was used to. Why, I even laughed a little to myself before when I found out that if I stood at one spot, I could see the whole hospital from where I was standing. Oh, and the mangroves…they were everywhere. And, the sea water would rise and edge its way to the hospital walls during high tide (the beach was a quarter of a kilometer away). And there was only one private room…and the only other rooms that had air-conditioning were the quarters and the offices.

:-) 

But that was in the past. Somehow, the place endears itself to you. The people, in their own simple ways make you feel that there is a lot you can contribute. There is a lot to love, really. I never thought I’d say this, but I did love how the air was crisp and clear in the mornings, why, bird chirping was even commonplace. Everywhere it was green, green…an occasional house, and then lots of mountains in the distance (but not that far off, because you can still see the detail on the huts that dot the sides).  The people were a different sort as well. 

They have such an openness, a naivete that I find utterly endearing, because I know that they’ll follow my instructions to the letter and do what they could to scrape together funds…as opposed to how some people would doctor-shop and just take the medications only for a time…or worse, not take them at all.

Things I think I like about practicing Medicine in the rural area:

1.       My patients don’t have a lot, so I have to be “creative” in treatment

2.       Not a lot of exposure, so I don’t always have to resort to high-end antibiotics for their infections.

3.       They’re fairly nice people who are open to medical advice.

4.       They’re simple, and funny, and generally good-natured.

5.       When they say thank you, they really mean it…and bring you fruit, or the native delicacy, or whatever they can afford to give you. (One of my favorite perks.)

6.       They’re good at networking.

7.       I do almost everything…it’s all hands-on. All the decisions are mine, and apart from the referring as needed, I get to assert myself. (And form balls of steel in the process on a daily basis.:-))

8.       I learned more of the practical work on my own than I ever did while I was a clerk (when you’re all supposed to do the scut work).

9.       I learned that it’s pretty lousy to always make up excuses for why you can or cannot do something.

10.   I learned to be patient…well, I already am most times, but I really mean that I can stretch more now.

Things that I don’t like about it:

1.       It’s far from a tertiary hospital (most of them are in Dumaguete City, and being referred there costs the patients a lot).

2.       We don’t have any anti-psychotic on hand. ß geesh.

3.       The hospital (as most primary government hospitals are), doesn’t have its own ambulance. When a patient needs an ambulance, his folks (his relatives) have to approach the personnel in charge of the ambulance registration, usually a clerk at the municipal hall. (More often than not, it has political leanings, even going to the extent of a patient not being allowed to use the ambulance because he or she is a supporter of a different political party.) It’s sad, really.

4.       Drunk drivers who get into an accident come in more often than I’d prefer.

5.       Pulmonary Tuberculosis cases abound.

6.       Many kids are malnourished.

7.       A number of pregnant women have not had good and very thorough prenatal check-ups (it’s almost appalling, but you can’t blame them that much because not all of them have reached a high level of education, they live quite a distance from the health facility…which corresponds to them not using any type of birth control (“withdrawal” doesn’t count, in my book.)

8.       Sometimes they go to the hilot first when they have fractures.

9.       The diagnostics are quite lacking. Very basic, at most. (No sodium-potassium.)

10.   Paperwork. Haha.

It takes me an hour and half, or maybe 2 hours, depending on the kind of public transport I’m taking (I don’t drive.).That’s about 4 hours of sitting in a bus, or a rented van ( a V-hire), if you count it as a single trip back and forth…which totally gets my goat, because I don’t like being inactive and not being able to do anything.

Funnily enough, I learned how to calm and pace myself and to be creative on these trips. I’ve also read books while in transit, listened to a whole bunch of music downloads, composed emails and blog entries, and plan things. It was almost meditative…when I wouldn’t be obsessing about any single topic, of course. :-p

-----

For about a 7 months, our arrangement had been to man the OPD from 9AM up to 4PM (while being on-call for ward referrals), with us doing everything from suturing, to administering certain medications, and delivering babies. On top of that, if anything ever happened, and someone went bad in the ward, we’d have to drop everything and deal with that too. On a regular day, that’d be like, 40 patients (50 if it was really busy) at the OPD.

Sure it’s just talking, you say…but if that’s what you did the whole day, it can get pretty draining, believe me.( After a while, I’d bring a canteen of water to last me through.)

Three months ago, another doctor joined our roster, and so now, it’s a lighter workload. There’s always a doctor for the out-patient department, and we stay in the wards and take care of admissions.

-----

I didn’t get to read a lot…I’d be too tired at the end of my shift, and then, before I know it, I’d be back on duty again. (LOL.)

----

I love delivering babies, and little kid patients.

----

Meals are almost always fat free. Haha. (Very non-fattening.)

----

Patients-wise, I suppose I’ve had my heart broken so many times here than I’ve ever had in any other hospital. Because of many factors such as low levels of education, a prevalent “alternative medicine” culture, and just plain economic lack, I’ve had patients who died on me…because they were brought to the hospital too late.

There were two cases that I remembered of incredibly septic babies who came in pale, either very warm to the touch (or very cool), malnourished…who gasped their last a few minutes upon arriving. Actually, I was more worked up about the baby that I didn’t even mind that his mother was ranting about how she should never have brought her baby to the hospital, it died in it anyway.

(I try my best to educate patients, but what’s one or two vs. the innocent many?)

------

It was a year well-spent, of course. People would often ask why I decided to take  year off the academics of my medical career, and I find myself saying that I wanted to give back (and “serve humanity”) for my cheaper, government-subsidized medical education…and more practically, because I wanted to save up for training in Manila (it’s not cheap to live there, mind you).

I don’t have any regrets. It was a good job…and there are benefits to working for the government. It’s got a higher-paying salary than most private institutions. I hope I’ve saved enough to last me the three months without a salary in my new institution. J

------

:-)

-----

All in all, even though I joke about how much of a country bumpkin I’m getting…that’s all that is, I’m just poking fun at it. In reality, being a “country bumpkin” has been good for me to help me have a more comfortable life as a “city girl”.

-----

Love, 

S. 

One vivid afternoon

Two less lonely buildings in the world. ;-) 

One afternoon, after a light rain, I got to thinking...In a world of near-infinite possibilities, could that "awesome fit" that complements you in every way just be right across the street?

Sure. 

Could be.

(Maybe.)

---------- 

In a patch of land, where nothing is alike, and there are buildings of sizes and shapes of different kinds (as "far as the eye can see", in this picture, of course)...there were two that were the exact mirror image of each other.  See if you can spot them.


------------ 


Not Love, Perhaps

This is not Love, perhaps, 
Love that lays down its life, 
that many waters cannot quench, 
nor the floods drown, 
But something written in lighter ink, 
said in a lower tone, something, perhaps, especially our own.

A need, at times, to be together and talk, 
And then the finding we can walk 
More firmly through dark narrow places, 
And meet more easily nightmare faces; 
A need to reach out, sometimes, hand to hand, 
And then find Earth less like an alien land; 
A need for alliance to defeat 
The whisperers at the corner of the street.

A need for inns on roads, islands in seas, 
Halts for discoveries to be shared, 
Maps checked, notes compared; 
A need, at times, of each for each, 
Direct as the need of throat and tongue for speech.

- A.S.J Tessimond

------------- 

DISCLAIMER. This is a "no big deal" entry. Not dedicated to anybody in particular. At all. :-)

The expensive lesson

I was convinced I was invincible.


Up until this morning, at least.


I missed my flight home. I've been sitting on my tiny tush for the past couple of hours (4 more to go, actually), waiting for the next available flight, which is this afternoon as well.


Ever heard of the saying, (more familiarly) from the 90's Brandy song "Almost Doesn't Count"? Well, it's true. Exasperatingly true, I might add. 


               Sure, I woke up at 4 in the morning... 


                      Sure, i cleaned the condo...


                               Sure, I got a relatively fast taxi...


But it still didn't make up for the fact that the airport check-in counter closed minutes before I got there. Which left me no choice but to have my ticket rebooked. I suppose I must have looked ultimately funny because I was carting around my Krispy Kremes, lugging around my... luggage (of course) and being weighed down by my oversized carry-on (for my books, and Dean, my laptop.)...and to be told at the counter that they had closed 10 minutes ago. yech.


For the longest time, I thought I could wrangle myself out of any situation (and talk my way through anything), but no, not this time. "We're closed, Ma'am." And that, dear friends was that. Silly old me had to walk over to the Cebu Pacific Service Center with tail between legs and heavy bags in tow.


And so, two hours and a couple of thousand pesos later (and work schedule changes), your loyal servant is sitting comfortably cross-legged on one of the lounge chairs, munching on leftover Potato Chips for breakfast. There has never been a time when Natural Sea Salt-flavored chips has tasted so delish. What's for lunch, you ask? Umm... Krispy Kremes. (They're fattening, and they're for my brother, but the original glazed ones are just scrumptious.)


I reckon I'm lucky Dean (the laptop) is fully-charged, and my 3-day unlimited internet credits won't expire until 3pm (just in time for boarding)...and there are so many interesting people to watch.  Actually, I'm more concerned with just "hanging out" online, than actively taking pictures (and the usual crazy things that I do when I'm bored.)


Even luckier was the fact that I had money on hand which allowed me to get things done quickly. Shiet. What if I had only a couple of hundreds (for terminal fees, haha) and nothing else? Lord, Tabang... (Anyway, that couldn't have happened, because I always have the blue plastic "magic" card which contains funds I've earned (a.k.a. bled, cried, lost sleep over, worked hours for) over the past months.


Which almost made me realize how much of a risk all this was...I mean, for the longest time, I've always done things at the last minute, or close to it. I've escaped most times unscathed, but now this....is a different story. I absolutely will not do it again. I promise. *Pinkie Swear.*

(Is that an overcast sky...or just plain smog? )

Yes, after this [expensive] fiasco, I vow never again to do things at the last minute, or be late again (to which my aunt said that "somebody" was going to be happy upon hearing this, I suppose she meant my mother, haha).

----- 

When one is stuck in an airport with long hours before her and no one to spend it with, one tries to busy herself with activities...or thoughts. I'll try my best to entertain you, because, dears, I am trying to entertain myself too. :-)

1.) Years ago, it was Dunkin Donuts...then Gonuts Donuts...and now, it's Krispy Kremes!  <-- Personally, I'm not a big pasalubong giver since recent years, because I've been travelling alone more, and it's taxing to bring along donuts when I myself am an incorrigible packer. But hey, it makes people happy (my brother gobbles the stuff up), and people from work like trying new things, so I guess it's ok to bring things occasionally.

2. My back hurts a little. Which reminds me, that apart from the procrastination, I also vow to try to "pack light". Enough said. :-)

3. Christmas at the psych department meant a lot of presents and cute stuff from the other residents. 

4. I think I like the NAIA Terminal 3 better than the for PAL. For one thing, there's lots of space here, and lots of comfortable chairs. 

5. The lady next to be is carrying a month-old baby, wrapped in a white wrap-around blankie, trying to push its little fist out from his covers (so cute.) , and she goes, "Gang, why don't you go and get tickets, if you need money, use the HSBC ticket. "Gang" was a tallish guy in pink who did as he was told. He spoke to me in Hiligaynon...and in bits and snatches of conversation, asked I had a husband, 'cause I looked 30. Yeah, his wife agreed. You look haggard. (Who wouldn't, after shelling out that much money...and lugging around the bags?)


Oh, and maybe all I needed was a shower to return me to my former glory.


I just want to get out of here.


Love, 


S. 

Farewell, Sir BVR....and Thank You.

This afternoon, Mer, Trina, Chamie and I went to Cubao to pay our last respects to Dr. Baltazar V. Reyes, who I've written about in my previous entries. Sir BVR (as he was fondly called), was also considered to be the Father of Psychiatry in the Philippines, and he was well-loved by everyone here (and all those he had ever taught).

We didn't have a lot of time with him...just a handful of one-hour sessions (4, to be exact) when we were doing our pre-residency last October (I got to report on "Dreams" on the last week of pre-residency). After that, he took ill...and was admitted to the ICU. We never got to see him again. We were all informed that he had passed away in the morning of December 12, 2010. 


He was a kind man, a great teacher, and, from what I've experienced, was a very inspiring individual...a giant among psychiatrists, but could talk to you in a way that could make you feel like you could stand on his shoulders and see the beauty of Psychiatry from his lofty height.

We offered our heartfelt condolences and  told his son that we didn't have a lot of time with him, but he made such an impact on us anyway. He said that his dad loved to teach... 

I am saddened by his passing, we all are. And because lately I've been getting searches on the man on my blog, I've decided to put up pictures of his wake. His wake will only be for two days, and so we won't get to see him for much longer. 

Chamie, Trina and Mer 

At the Chapel of the Ascension, Cubao.

The Guest Book.

Sir Baltazar V. Reyes, Psychiatrist and Teacher Extraordinaire

Sir BVR's urn.

The Mass Cards.

A collage of Sir BVR's pictures.

There were white flowers everywhere. The arrangements seemed to be strictly just in that color.  It was a good choice though, purity was befitting.

Since we came by ourselves, we didn't know who was the immediate family for sure, so, we went on a hunch (Mer knew Dr. BVR's neurologist son by face) and we all went to offer our condolences (with myself going first, of course. I don't know why that seems to happen most of the time...I figured it was because I was the "least shy" of the bunch? And I mean that as a euphemism.)

I don't know for sure if he will be inurned in these spaces...or be carried home.

For posterity's sake. and maybe, as a last picture in remembrance. (I wish I got to attend the service, though. I would have loved to hear more stories about him.)

The "Eff" word (and other stories)

It’s a dark, gloomy, overcast day in Manila… it’s one of those Saturdays when even though you’ve just woken up at 6:30AM, you won’t want to do anything until noontime except of course, watch The Big Bang Theory, or watch a movie one after another.

Well, I did. (So that’s the reason for this entry.)

The sun is bright enough to wake the sleeper even at 5:30AM in this room I’m staying. The big window draws in all possible forms of bright, sunshine-y quantum energy to tell you, “hey, it’s a new day, and it’s definitely time to get off your lazy ass, sweetie…”

J

Well, this morning anyway, there was too much cloud cover and the smog pretty much made the day all dark and gloomy. So I stayed in. And had a good laugh over Sheldon Lee Cooper and his shenanigans (just a couple of episodes really, fresh episodes that I copied off Mer when my groupmates were here for dance practice.)

Anyway… it was a busy week (relatively), and apart from the party that Dr. L invited all the residents to, I’ll have the whole day off tomorrow (to go house-hunting, among other things.).

-------

I like how The Big Bang Theory is…it’s a brainy “no-brainer” (relatively),  it’s fresh, and most of all, I like their witticisms. It’s just terribly amusing, how they poke at each other’s idiosyncrasies…and with geek-speak to boot.

I like it a lot.

-------

I saw a South Park episode too…the one where Eric Cartmann freaked out about KFC being banned one time, with a medicinal marijuana outlet opening up in its place. His dad gave himself testicular cancer using  a microwave and then got all his jutes legally (with a doctor’s referral form)…and didn’t mind “hopping” his way everywhere on his…balls (which, apparently, the women in their community thought was a hell of a big turn-on). Cartmann became a drug lord’s equivalent (he was dealing contraband KFC).

:-p Of course it doesn’t seem all that funny by the way I’m telling it, but oh my gosh, it was decidedly so. It was so absurd, a smart social commentary and they didn’t hold anything back that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud (even while the others were sleeping on the couches last night after practice.)

(Now I know why. :-p)

-------

Ooh, I saw Going the Distance too, this morning (the last movie I saw before I decided it was time to get on with my life before the day was through). They had posters of it all over a few months ago, and I don’t know if it was a box-office hit, but it was a nice enough movie to watch. It was a bit cheesy, but it was good enough…and dealt with one of the age-old topics, Long Distance relationships. 

Drew Barrymore was her usual, winsome, charming Ro-Com self, and Justin Long was simply adorable as her paramour. The story was about a couple (ok then, no spoilers) who were perfect for each other, but were long-distance lovers who underwent the usual troubles (i.e. different time zones, trust issues, new job decisions, moving, seeing each other, travelling back and forth, etc.), but in the end, someone had to give way…but not after they each got what they want.

I felt for that, of course. Who doesn’t want a happy ending?  (I know I do. :-p).

Anyway, I pretty much am the type who would say that if it works for you, it’ll work for you. Long-distance relationships are a lot to handle, and it takes a lot of effort from both parties. (I should know, I tried it once. It ended up as a big fiasco, but hey, there’s no sense in bashing it. It is simply just not for me.)

I suppose a real relationship involves two people being physically together most of the time, but I don’t mean like, in sex. To really get to know someone, you’ll have to see how they’ll be like in different life situations…and you can’t do that as effectively if you’re just talking to them on the phone, or just emailing.

(lol…like I said, it’s a case to case basis. That’s my disclaimer.)

Anyway, I suppose I’d learn to love someone more if I knew more about them, and knew every little nuance about them.  Routines usually get me all fidgety, because I don’t like doing the same thing over and over, but I wouldn’t say that I was the type who would keep changing lovers over and over just because I was bored. I meant that if I was with someone I was crazy about, I’d love to get to know everything about them, and make every effort to keep things fresh.

One of my good friends from med school, who’s now married to a guy she was friends with before he became “her man” said that he (the guy, who’s also a friend of mine) said that to make a relationship work, there must be effort from both parties to make it work. 

(Haha, I love the guy, and his whole declaration…and maybe my new favorite word these days would be effort from now on. LOL)

-----

In one of our “boy-talks”, my father mentioned that a guy, if he didn’t care anymore about the girl, wouldn’t make any effort * at all to do anything for her. He’d just stay away until it all dies down…and eventually. Aghast, I was like, “Why pop? That’s so cruel…” He said, “It’s a waste of time. Most men do that.”

An insider’s tip that was useful, but not necessarily very good to know. Can you imagine (if you’re the girl) believing that everything is all fine and dandy one moment and then just having the rug pulled out from under you the next, when you find out that he doesn’t like you anymore?

(It is very shitty, indeed.)

Anyway...

(I’ve digressed. I thought that I was plainly going to tell you all about the movies/ TV shows I’ve seen this Saturday, but instead, I’ve somehow added in my own personal foibles to the mix. :-p I apologize. That was wearing my heart on my blog sleeves once again...)

-----

I rest my case. For now. J

Have a nice day!

(* the magic word)

P.S. I define effort as something you wouldn’t normally do if you could help it…and in my case, it’s probably cooking for someone when you know that you can’t, but try anyway, and just hope for the best that your eggs won’t be too salty to cause instant death. ;-)

(I better practice, then, for WHEN i'll make that effort..)

 Love, 

S.

All Shapes and Sizes

 Walking home from church earlier tonight, I passed by a busy street, which was right along the mall I was on my way to. Like any regular sidewalk in Manila on a busy rush hour time, there was the usual cacophony of honking horns and rumbling engines. People were walking about to and fro, all busy, walking fast to get somewhere. For a while, I had walked on, not minding the melded sensory experiences anymore, just eager to go about my business as well. 


What broke my reverie was a piercing, "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??", which came from a girl on the side of the street, yelling at her boyfriend (her significant other, I presumed). Judging from the way her face was scrunched up, and the voluminous tears flowing down her cheeks, she looked very upset. A major infraction had occurred between the two of them, and with her fists balled at her sides, I assumed there was little holding her back from punching the guy in the face.



The guy was absolutely silent and motionless, he said and did nothing. She did all the talking and yelling… She didn't seem to care that passers-by and people in the jeepneys passing by were watching them. I was tempted to just stop walking and watch the human drama unfolding on that very street, but it wasn't proper…nor nice. (Sayang, really. ) And besides, I was a hurry.



I never got to see what happened next, and judging from the traffic jam they were causing, a policeman probably came over eventually to break them up and keep the peace.

I had this thought at the back of my mind that it was probably going to end up like this (from the many cases I've experienced since starting pre-residency); the girl, due to the present stressor was going to drink/ingest anything close at hand that might presumably kill them (i.e. aspirin, paracetamol, yes, even vitamins…or even some "esoteric" substances such as, well, silver jewelry cleaner, for instance. 


A desperate person intent on harming himself or herself really will try anything.) If that patient is lucky, he or she will be prevented from successfully completing the attempt…and be put on the road to putting himself or herself back together in order to cope. Only then can this person go through that experience whole.



Mental health is one of the most pressing health issues, I believe. I don't say this because I'm training to be a mental health specialist, but I say it because, well, it is the truth. Last weekend, I attended a psychopharmacology and I took a picture of one of the slides they used during one of the lectures. I found the striking statistics quite terrible. Mental illness is not really something talked with as much "ease" as other diseases such as diabetes or hypertension, and most often, people don't even like talking about it…especially when family members are involved. The prevailing stigma is appalling.



One of my teachers from medical school shared this with me this morning on facebook.com when I posted this picture on my wall, and I quote her: 

 Philippine population = 90M

Philippine psychiatrists = about 500, just five HUNDRED.

Prevalence of Schizophrenia - 1 in 100 people

Prevalence of Schizophrenia in the Philippines - about 900,000

Only 1 psychiatrist for every 1800 Filipino patient with Schizophrenia

Note: Not included are patients with Mood disorders, substance dependence, anxiety disorders...

Mental illness is no joke, and I never could get why people find making fun of mentally ill people amusing. I mean, it's neither glamorous nor funny to be "unwell", and it even annoys me to an extent when people poke fun at mentally-ill people, imitating them and even patronizing Schizophrenia being a "split-personality" thing… 


When your mind turns on you (as it does in psychosis and even major depression), you are no longer in control of yourself, and no amount of exercising nor pill-popping of vitamins is going to work on you (unlike other diseases, although I'm not saying they are not equally serious). Sure, quirks and tics may be funny to watch for certain periods of time, but it really is no laughing matter… And even if we people on the inside smile and share anecdotes of patient's idiosyncrasies, it is done always with the intent to share knowledge and treatment options.


------



This week, me and my co-residents have been introduced to our new patients at the out-patient department, mostly of psychotic cases and bipolar patients (for the first year level). We've logged our patients in our planners, scheduling their follow-up check-ups accordingly.



To be perfectly honest, I find it daunting that I'll have to deal with these patients on a monthly basis, seeing to their care and well-being. So far, the ones I've met are going to be fairly challenging. No specifics, but suffice to say that I'll be dealing with patients of all shapes and sizes (well, figuratively, anyway)… there's an intellectual, an obsessive-compulsive patient with obvious tics, a floridly psychotic woman who doesn't take any of her medications, but on the other hand, there are those who are in remission; so much like everyone else that you can't even tell that they were even on anti-psychotic medications.



I face this trepidation on one hand, fascination on the other. I'm sincerely hoping I'll be up for the task.



(And yes, balls of steel are still on my wish list, Santa.).



Wish me luck! :-)