Video: Marry Your Daughter

 

I was in the Surgery Ward doing rounds on my delirium patient...I had already given medications and was writing orders down.

A surgery resident I just talked to about the recent referral, tall, with boyish good looks and a nice smile was milling about in the nurses' station, looking for a chart. Then this song comes on, and then he starts singing the chorus... so cute. He was absentmindedly doing it, I suppose, as he was looking around for charts all the while.

And then, he asked the nurses who were eating dinner on the side, "Hey, what song is this? Who sang it?"

(Nobody could tell him the answer.)

I was sitting at the back of the ward, on the table, writing out my notes. I had paused to look at him, so I remembered this scene, from a spectator's perspective... It was cute.

(He was a nice guy; tall, skin head 'do, great teeth, nice smile, lean. <-- my favorite. Most of all, he was nice enough to explain to me how the Total Mastectomy with TRAM flap went about. <-- major points.)

Gotta love 'em Surgery boys, especially those that sing. haha

Love,

S.

Video: Every Breath You Take

Got this video idea from a friend, it's become my current work song, while I prepare for my grand rounds. I love this song. It reminds me of good things.

The rain is continuously coming in sheets...and many people in Manila are in knee deep (or worse) water.

Here in the hospital, the grounds outside are still flooded, but they're starting to recede...there was no rain this morning...but it seems to be coming back again. Good thing we're all warm, safe and dry, and there's food, electricity and water. Good company to be had.

I don't want to be selfish...i'd love an extension, but you should see the people on tv...I hope this ends soon, for all of us.

I want to go home too, for my birthday. and I won't be able to, if this keeps going on.

A blessed day to all, Be safe, everyone.

Love,

S.

Stranded at the hospital. with the Hepe, and the First years (photo by: RG).

Photo: with Dr. Abeleda, psychiatrist extraordinaire

Dr. Connie Abeleda was recently in town, and she gave a lecture one afternoon.

She had been a practicing psychiatrist for 20 years in the US...and she was connected with Mt. Sinai hospital Psychiatry..

:-)

I was a little late, having come from the OPD, so when I got there, I was a little embarrassed to find that there was only one seat left, near Joff and the others. I wanted to sit there, but then they told me that that seat had already been taken. Joff said, "there's a seat up front Atep, you can take that."

So I shrugged my shoulders and went and took the seat right next to her...

I had a lot of fun. She was a very interactive speaker.

---

I learned later that they had really planned to put me there in the first place (knowing my propensity for asking questions).

Bibo Kid strikes again.

Love,

S.

Looking over your shoulder

Right on the dot, our consultant for the Wednesday’s Consultation-Liaison (CL) rounds came into the department office.

Looking absolutely chic, and totally unruffled, she breezed into the conference room in a no-nonsense outfit of a blue and black corset-top and pants ensemble with matching nude pumps and Louis Vuitton bag.

My co-residents and I were slightly anxious, as certain aspects of the rounds we had with her from last month didn’t go that well. She had high standards, and well, that always kept us on our toes, which is always good, I suppose. Anyway, I had three patients out of the cases that we were going to discuss for the week, which was why I was on edge. I could present any of them, at any time.  

While taking out my notes from my clear book file, I caught my co-resident, Mer’s eye and mouthed, “I just want to get through this day…and then after that, I’m fine.” Mer  gave me a quick nod and a grimace (he was anxious too).  I smiled nervously. “Well, here goes,” I said, and then heaved a sigh. She was my supervisor, and she had a reputation for having high standards. I, of course, did not want to disappoint.

-----

As it turns out, I didn’t get a chance to present any of my 3 cases.  Which was just as well…I didn’t want to do it that day, what with all the interns sitting in with us, my co-residents also concerned with their own cases.

My insides were in a terrific coil. I had to leave five patients at the out-patient department for screening because I wanted to attend these rounds. Bien, one of my co-residents, who didn’t have any admitted patients at the time, covered for me so I could sit in with this consultant.

Minutes later, when it was all done, I gathered up my papers, excused myself, and told her that I would be back for supervision by 12 noon, when all the activities were done.

-----

Thirty minutes past 12…I got a call from one of my co-residents, telling me that my supervisor was looking for me. In the middle of wrapping up my screening interview with a patient, I could feel the familiar racing of my heart, knowing that she was really strict about time and schedules, and therefore, I had to be there immediately.

----

She was sitting with the others, eating lunch, with perfect poise and manners…not a hair out of place. I had to pause for a few moments so I could catch my breath.

(I suppose the only visible signs of my anxiety during that was the thin sheen of sweat on my forehead from the exertion of walking and the slight flaring of my nostrils. :-p)

She calmly told me to eat lunch first so we could talk longer about my cases.

We only had 45 minutes (as per schedule, of course), so I requested that we continued with my self-supervision during the next session and so we could talk about more pressing problems, i.e. my admitted patients. She obliged, and listened patiently while I introduced my 3 cases.

What followed was a careful critiquing of my management and how I handled my patients so far. From discussing the case with her, I learned a little more about the intricacies of how to manage my patient. She pointed out details that I had not really focused on, but were important nonetheless. My management done and medications given, along with my rationale for doing so were talked about.

“I did not want to put my diagnosis like that ma’am, because it would look like I hadn’t made a decision…” I started to say.

She smiled, and said, “It’s not about you, S., it’s about your patient…it’s always about your patient.”

----

And then, before I knew it, we were done with the week’s supervision.

I smiled contentedly. “Wow, “ I thought myself, “now this is what you call learning!”

In the span of just a few minutes, I learned a few techniques from experience, I learned how to look at certain things from a different perspective, and most importantly, I had more handles on how to tackle a problem that seemed simple enough at hand, but was actually a little more complicated.

I now understood what Dr. ALJ meant when learning was supposed to be done in the context of having someone “looking over your shoulder” while you dealt with a patient.

As with everything in life, it is not all about book-learning. Oftentimes, we benefit from the experiences of more seasoned teachers, who help us process our own experiences.

----

Note: Screening is a procedure at the out-patient department where we first diagnose a patient and then assign them to a resident-in-charge. Psychotic cases go to the juniors (i.e. first year residents), and non-psychotic, medical cases go to the seniors (i.e. second years.) Supervision is the learning process where a consultant is assigned to a resident, and they meet regularly for discussing cases. Usually, during the first few sessions, the resident undergoes “self-supervision”, where he/she gets to discuss his/her own history and process why he or she reacts to certain ways, and undergoes certain countertransferences.

The “past is prologue”, after all. :-)


Love,


S.

"The art of description"

The heavy scent of Dama De Noche blooms envelops the areas on the corner path which I take to get home every night. It is a curious smell, one would think that a place as far removed from rural scents and sounds as this part of Manila was, you would expect nothing as delicate, or as dainty.  Yet where the flowers are, I cannot tell yet. At certain times of the day, the scent is there, barely perceptible, but seemingly floating, an invisible nocturnal cloud which I imagine to be various shades of pretty ochre…

:-)

On that walk home, I was only paying half a mind to the “ochre breeze”, as I was busy keeping up with the barrage of messages on my work phone… as I rounded the corner, I nearly bumped into this massive hunk of muscle of a man.  From the periphery, I only noticed his legs, tanned trunks of sinewy muscle (could I have possibly seen the corded anterior tibialis? I think yes.) stemming out from white, expensive-looking Nikes. Up and up, he was wearing shorts, with the seams just cut off at the knee, a manly length, ensured to maximize athleticism and show off someone’s “body of work”.

“Hi,” he said.

Curious, I looked up from my red distraction of a phone… it took a while for me to see who it was, as when I looked up to see who the other person was, my gaze had to travel from my eye level …his chest (which I imagined to be lean and broad, judging from the comfortable way his dri-fit shirt was stretched over it), still upwards, until I could see the face from whom that one word greeting came from.

“Hey.” I said, surprised. There was no one behind me, but I was still considering that he might have been talking to someone else over my head.  My, he was tall, over six feet tall of muscle and manliness…and he said, Hi.

Cool.

-----

A little while later, I found myself in Book Sale, one of my favorite places to go in the mall, sniffing a book called “The art of Description”, by Mark Doty.  It was a book on just that, description. Putting into words just how we see things in the world, which, I believe sounds easy enough…until you start to do it.

(It’s not so easy, you know. Try describing the sensation of looking into someone’s eyes when you feel the deep stirrings of love that you can never tell them about, or try describe the colors of sunset, or even just the “reflectivity of the bay on an August morning”.  :-))

Well, it seems like a self-help book, but I cannot discount the fact that it has mellifluous words in it, and that is even a bigger pull for me. I just like to get lost in the sights and sounds of the wordplay.)

-----

My recent interest in honing my skills in “painting with words” was sparked by a very recent academic endeavor.

Last week, I went on rounds with my mentor to see one of his patients on the pay floors. It was about an hour long, and all I did was sit and observe. 

(Learning from the “masters”, is an active process, you really have to go out of your way to see them in action, as in Psychiatry, being asked to observe is not something that happens every day, regarding the very confidential nature of most of our work.)

I tried to learn from the experience, taking in all I possibly could, as much as my sensate faculties would allow me.  Everything had a purpose, the relaxing, comfortable atmosphere which he made in the patient’s hospital room, the way he positioned the family members, the way he placed himself in his seat, the modulation in his voice that he practiced, they were all for a purpose. I also observed how the members of the family acted, how they spoke, how they moved. I think I even had to subconsciously memorize the expressions on their faces while they were telling their  versions of the story…

Afterwards, Sir discussed the case with me. The afternoon’s learning session was to be focused on “what I saw.” The “mentoring” was very informal, mind you, we were outside the gate, and he was smoking, while he had me recount…and describe what it was that I had seen during the rounds.

I made the same mistake of thinking it was easy.

(Haha.)

My initial attempts at “describing” what I saw (My mentor and I talk in English, which works for me, because I think I would be at a loss for words to describe the episode in Tagalog) were met with, “You’re not describing, you’re making a cognitive judgment…Now, try again.”

“Observing and describing is very important…that is the best way to learn Psychiatry…”

----

It took me a few more tries to actually get to “describe”, without “judgment”. At first glance, one would likely think, “Describing is easy enough.”, but why did I have such a hard time doing it? My mentor has a very eclectic way of thinking, and it’s never easy to really “get” what he wants you to say. He challenges me, but in a good way.

 Hence the book…

:-)

Like I always say, there’s never a boring day in Psychiatry.

----

Oh, and about the super tall, muscular dude, I’m afraid to say it didn’t go anywhere. Flattering as it may have been that he was making the first move (he waited at the bend to see if I would reciprocate), I didn’t. My head, and my heart was simply too full, and my stomach too empty to think of any possible dalliances. :-)

And so I walked home. Looked out my 27^th floor balcony, and mused about the delightful possibilities.

So many things could still happen. :-)

Love, 

S.

Photo: Badminton weekly

I pretty much play badminton like I do tennis. which is pretty funny-looking. :-D

Psych people are pretty competitive. I noticed. :-p

TrinaLing scores. :-D

In winning form...

Hairography? This bring to mind that Tom Cruise hair movie, "Mission Impossible 3"

This is getting to be a weekly thing, when we have free time.

(I do the court reservations.)

Love,

S.

Balls.

For the "unofficial" Christmas exchange gift party, I got  a set of 3 tubes of tennis balls..."Maybe these'll get you back to playing sports" - Joff.

Yippee!

(I love the "pop!" of freshly-opened balls. and the smell. and their heavy bounce when you first play.)

~


Love,

S.

P.S.

Christmastime

My Christmas Sock. December 11,2011. Manila.
(I think I'll hang it on my window where Santa can see it. A patient's mom made it for me.)

I got home 40 minutes past eight tonight, in a hurry, plopping down in my favorite seat on the dining table (there are 6, and I eat alone, so it doesn’t really matter.) I hurriedly opened my take-away dinner, a breaded pork-chop combo from Goldilocks. With laing.

I have to admit, Goldilocks is not gourmet food…but I’m a sucker for the Laing. My favorite comfort foods either remind me of home…or have a coconut milk-based ingredient. (In Iloilo, I had this thing for an Ilonggo dish called Pangat, which is kind of like Laing, but different.)

Why the sudden need for comfort food, you might ask?

Well…stress-relief, I suppose.

I’ve had a full day at work…quite a long day. I put in a lot of hours with patients. I think it’s time I put my foot in my mouth…I did mention before that one of the main things that drew me to train in Psychiatry was because of the stories. People’s stories. I loved learning about people.

Today, though, I have to admit…I’ve had too many “stories” to deal with… there simply were a lot of patients that I saw today. It’s not enough to just mainly listen…one has to piece everything together to come up with a good treatment plan (and to explain everything in Tagalog). Sometimes, I get a good ribbing from my friends, telling me that I’m just making things hard for myself, because I’m making other people’s problems my own.

Oh well, that’s part of it, but hey, you have to realize, there simply is nothing quite like the feeling that you made a difference in someone’s life. Well, in psychiatry, the results aren’t that dramatic all the time, but when you do see a difference, it is well worth all the effort.

(Like, this afternoon, one of my patient’s family caregivers couldn’t help but give me a high five, because of how well our patient was doing, and how much he had improved. I had to hand it to her…she was an extremely disciplined treatment partner who was able to follow instructions to the letter, and thus, together, we had worked really well together to make our patient better.)

And yes, there are others…I had another re-admission today because another patient relapsed. His mother had tried to “experiment” and seemed to me, was trying to “rush” the process, and ended up getting the patient under-dosed. What a shame. These make me sad, of course… But as they say, it is inevitable, there will be bad apples, so says my senior (and everyone else who has been in Psychiatry, for that matter.)

-----

There was one mother who was hesitant with having her patient admitted because it was going to be Christmas soon, and she wanted it to be spent at home with her family… I assured her that I’ll try to do whatever I can, but Christmas won’t be Christmas anyway, if her patient was currently in his present state…

\

----- 

One time this afternoon, I had a patient who would not take his medications at all…when I tried to have him take it in front of me, he sort of freaked out. Even my opening his pill box to put in front of make made him jumpy. You could clearly see the effort it took for him to drink water…for him to put the pill in his mouth…to speak afterwards. If I didn’t understand how his fear was so palpably real to him, I would have been annoyed and dismissed him. But no, I sort of felt for the little man. Fear can be paralyzing, whether it is real or not.

----

One of my patients presented me with a bunch of bananas. I was touched. He was sort of a recluse who used to be suspicious of other people, but I’ve seen him to be improving over the past few months, and I’m glad. He gave me a smile and apologized that he didn’t have a present for me for Christmas, but he hoped that I would eat the bananas for a snack.

------ 

Speaking of Christmas presents, I got a bottle of cologne from a well-meaning relative who just left it at the ward for me. Victoria’s Secret Pretty in Pink. So…pretty.  I think I’ll wear it in the morning.

----

Another patient’s mother gave me a loaf of Gardenia bread and cheese spread earlier this afternoon because she heard that I haven’t had lunch yet. I took some of it, yes, but I ended up giving the rest to my other patient who had just given birth and was hungry. <—this one didn’t have much money, and was always hungry.

Walking home from work, I then thought about this and realized…”Omigosh, they’re going to be in the same ward….the patient’s mother is going to see that I had given away her gift to another patient!”

Blooper. But hey, how could I not give it away…it’s not easy being hungry…

…which was pretty much why I had a big dinner, and Laing as well.

Happy Birthday, Ma. Thank you for being beautiful, in absolutely every way. 

Love,

S.

Photos: Prom Night

Last night was the department's Christmas Party...themed "J/S Prom" (by Mer), entitled "The Sparkling Ball" (by well, Me.) :-) I thought I'd share some pictures...these don't happen very often. Only on Christmas. :-)

That's our group performing a dance number to Adam Levine's "Moves like Jagger". :-)

Me and my beloved batchmates. :-p <-- i guess everyone had an awesome time. :-)

Chamie won "Best Dressed" and got to bring her favorite prom date (and well, you might as well call him her "forever date"), Tope, to the party. :-)

Dr. "JLo" (not her real name), one of my supervisors, was also there, and I got to pose with her.  After this picture, though, she reminded me, "Hey Steph. Don't forget to schedule supervision." (haha.)

Everyone had fun. I believe great parties are the ultimate equalizers.

(Well, not for every situation, but hey, you get the idea, right?)

That's our batch with some of the pre-residents...who'll be incoming first year next year. :-)

I got nominated Prom Princess, yes, but no, I didn't get the "Most Manic" award...that belonged to someone else, of course. :-p

What's a party without a congo line?? :-)

My favorite girls. My batchmates Chamie and Trina! :-)

:-) It was a fun party, really. Can't wait for next year's party! :-)

 

Love, 

S.

Loops

The other day at work, one of my out-patients handed me a cellphone cover. It was black and brown, and crocheted.


"I made that while I was waiting for my turn, in the waiting area..." she said.


I turned the thing over in my hands, and then said, "The workmanship on this is very good..."


And she then talked about how she had discovered crocheting just recently, and talked about how fulfilling it has been. She has already had orders for bags like these. Handmade, 100%, she said proudly.


I, for one, think it's quite cool. :-)


Love,


S.

Where'd all the time go?

Clock face. Jerome's "Shanghaian", Makati City. September 2011.

Accreditation people are coming in a week, to check us out and give their stamp of approval on our training program... (I'll be one of the "welcoming committee", they assigned me to be 'escort service' to one of the accreditors...who is from Cebu, which is just about perfect.)

Paperwork crunch time. :-D

Where'd all the time go? I'll be a senior (second year) in a couple of months. Yikes. :-)

(And for everything else...it's been a quite a year.)

Good morning.

Love, 

S.

Video: I Love You Always Forever

Happy Easter, Everyone!

(My current theme song for Sunday Duty.) :-)

Just feeling happy, happy.

Chimi comes to the callroom!

 

My friend Chamie's little baby Promise was due for a follow-up with her pediatrician...and she stopped by, staying at the callroom with her nanny (who also happened to be Chamie's nanny when she was a baby!) while Mommy Chamie attended didactics for the morning...

she's about 6 days old.

                                                                                 She's adorable!

My first Family Meeting

I did my first family meeting this week.

Boy, was it hard.

After all that emotional strain, I felt I only wanted to do three things…

1.      Call my mother to bawl (I did. She was in church.)

2.      See my boyfriend and bawl. (Right. I should get me one. :-p wishful thinking, haha, but I suppose boyfriends should be around for these purposes..)

3.      Call my bestfriend. (But she’s ‘non-showbiz, so she wouldn’t feel it as intensely.)

I ended up with the next best thing.

I went to hear Mass. And then a friend of mine (and his co-resident  with GC’s, haha)ended up buying me green tea latte (with soy milk) from Starbucks afterwards.

And saw a bit of Barbie Almalbis rocking it out on the stage at the mall. I always thought she was super cool.

Barbie Almalbis, rocking it out on her purple Guitar. (Robinsons' Ermita, April 10,2011)

Oh, and I had my toenails done. Haha.

And then, eventually, I got to thinking that everything was back to normal. And the world was right again.

J

Back to work for me.

G’nite!

Love, 

Valentine ditty.

Cliche.

No, I didn't get flowers.

 

but i did have frozen mango margarita with The Queen and The Princess at Central. ;-)

It being February 14, and my friend Floyd inviting a bunch of us to his birthday party, I found myself wandering around the Mall of Asia (MOA) amid all the valentine revelers. (It seems, even on this day, Jollibee was a place to take your "special someone" too. lol...)

Lovers, in all shapes and sizes were there. Families, in all shapes and sizes were there too. 

An elderly couple even went with the red theme. ;-)

It was Valentines' Day, and thanks to commercialism, everyone felt like they had money to burn.

(Or maybe I'm just bitter that I didn't get flowers? LOL)

I swear, if i keep at this, i'm going to end up like her. 

There were couples of all ages and sizes, and the girl would almost always be carrying either a single rose, or a bouquet. Or there would be a couple wearing his and hers shirts... The atmosphere seemed to permeate of amore... Still, i wasn't convinced. There was this one couple, both wearing red shirts, the lady carrying a bouquet of pink roses and the dude...well, she was holding onto his arm pretty tight. I noticed him check me out, and i was like..."Yeah, right." 

Valentines' Day...Bah, Humbug!

:-p

(Ok, enough already.)

Anyway, I found my friends over at Racks, and i had some delish babyback ribs. (That's FLoyd, the birthday boy. He's showing his laryngoscope (he's an Anesthesia resident) off to Jerry (a surgical resident) on the other side of the table.)

Joe and Tope got there at almost 10PM, caught in the traffic jam caused by the big V Day. natch.

A fun dinner, all in all. :-)

I was the one with the camera, so I took this shot of everyone who went, while we were all waiting to hail a taxi. :-)

I got off near Yin's place, and I walked home alone, but it wasn't bad at all, 'cause my place is near the amll, and it's safe enough to walk to, with guards (sleeping or otherwise, haha)  posted every few meters. 

All in all, even if I didn't get to join in with all the mush of Valentines' Day, I had a lot of fun.

My thought while walking? Well... I just thought, that I should be pretty optimistic in the love department. Great  things take time. And I wasn't planning on settling for just anything.

:-p

Trina didn't. And she's every bit as happy as a chirpy little chipmunk.

(That's the chocolate cake that came with the serenade from the Frat Boys of the nearby Medical School.)

Now, i'm not really into showy, touchy feely love stuff, but i wouldn't mind the attention at all.

or flowers.

But food, and buns with creamy yema centers?

I don't mind them at all. They weren't for Valentines' day, but hey, who doesn't like freebie food (from special people?)

:-)

Hope you all had great Valentines' Day stories to tell!

love, 

S

Take care of you.

"It's a lifestyle choice..."


------ 


After doing my rounds on my patients last Sunday, I still had a few minutes to spare before Sunday Mass at the hospital chapel was supposed to start. I knew my friend Pettie was on duty at the hospital (I wasn't), and so I decided to bring her some doughnuts and coffee. 


I called her to check if she was at the pedia ward at the time, and when she picked up, I went the way I usually call her, "Hoy, Petula! Are you on-duty?" She laughed, and I had to go, "What's so funny?" And she said, "Sorry, I didn't know my phone was on loudspeaker, everybody in the callroom heard you say that 'crisp' way you talk, and they all laughed." 


(Err... yeah. My bad. Pettie is short for Petula, but for fun sometimes (and because of familiarity), I call her Petula. The crisp Cebuano accent is also part of it. )


So when I got to her ward, i just dropped off the coffee and left. The Pediatrics ward (and anything involving these little kids) is one of the busiest wards in the hospital. When I saw her, she looked pretty harassed, and even though it was just 11:50 AM, she looked like she'd been working a day already. "Hey Man, here, you better have this too," I said, as I handed her the iced coffee. They were just about to start their patient endorsements, and as usual, she was in a hurry.


------- 


Later, for dinner, I met up with friends of mine from school. Actually, they were a year ahead of me, but since I hung out with them alot back when we were in medical school, it wasn't any different when I got to  start residency. I was always a part of the group, an honorary class member. We had dinner at a Persian restaurant, called Arya at the mall, and had coffee afterwards.


As always, we had a good time. The POC Ortho Boys JoeJoe and Tope were there, Chamie and I from PGH Psych were there, Roxanne from Adventist Medical was there too, along with Gen from Pedia and Vera from Patho (who happens to live in the next building).


 These get-togethers are always fun for me. Especially since lately, I've been having spells of homesickness, or loneliness every now and then, which is totally uncharacteristic. I live alone in a relatively big house (and it doesn't have cable or internet access, that's why) and although I'm not complaining about my digs, sometimes it's just good to hang out with familiar faces.


If there's anything basic  I've learned in Psychiatry, it's that, to survive, you need to have a good primary support group...otherwise, you'll fragment and have a psychotic break (but that's like, in the worst cases of course). 


We talked about people, the news, work, new research, plans....just the usual. It's like having a family, where you take care of each other, I suppose. 


Gen Yap made a joke about how we Psych people were so "non-toxic" we could go about in heels and skirts, doing the "rampa". "Hey...it's not all that cushy a job, Gen, listening to people talk about their problems and helping them through it is not that easy."


(Hell, I think I'm even developing a permanent crease in my forehead from holding my "Interview Face" for long periods...:-))


------- 


Sometimes I think, that freedom of choice comes with a price. You put yourself in a place full of the possibilities of a great adventure, but you know fully well that there are also things familiar to you that will have to leave behind, even if temporarily.


------ 


My friend Pettie makes great sandwiches. One time, when I was from duty, and didn't have any dinner, she reached into her bag and said, "Hey, I made you a sandwich." Tuna on Wheat Bread. Yum. (One of my favorites.)


------ 


I do stuff like that for my other friends as well, it's not that I expect them to pay me for it, or expect them to give me the same thing in return, I always thought that if you could make things just  little bit better for another person, then you should. 


We all need to take care of each other around here. :-)


:-)


Anyway, Good night. (I'm on duty tomorrow.)


~ Sonia.

The Instrument

This afternoon, I found myself on all fours…

…checking out the lowermost shelf of pens at the national Bookstore, looking for something special.

(haha.)

Actually, I was there initially to pick up my TRODAT (that stamp thing that ISO-certified PGH requires all residents to have). I had mine remade to add the department where I was from (very necessary). That TRODAT stamp was something I won in a bet I made with someone…er, special/cute/nice/amazingly awesome/ or whatever(but that’s another story.) :-p

Anyhoo, today’s blog entry’s cheesiness level will be kept at a minimum, of course. You and I both know that the emotional Sonia (that’s me, occasionally) is not very entertaining. (Drama is not a dish we like to listen to everyday for dinner, right?)

Anyway…

It all started during one ward meeting we had at the Psych department, when I saw one of the internst sign the attendance logbook with a shiny black and gold fountain pen. I couldn’t help but look. Long (I couldn’t take my eyes off it.) I couldn’t resist asking him:

Me: Hey Jim, could I see that pen?

And he sort of gave a little laugh while I reached for the pen, and examined it closely.

It was black, shiny, elegant…and my favorite, it was ergonomic. J And when the nib touched the paper, anything I wrote, every stroke and every line came out (and stood out) like…

                        Black gold.

(Ok, so I’m overreacting, but hey… you know the feeling.)

So, while I was flipping it around, rolling it around my fingers twirling it, and all the while admiring the balance of a perfectly good pen, I could not help but sigh.

Me: Where did you get this?

Him: I got it in Binondo, Ma’am, in Escolta, at a place called “Louis’ Pen Store.”

Me: For real? Maybe I’ll go there and check the place out one of these days…

Him: It’s virtually got a lot of pens there, mostly high-end ones so I had to pick out an affordable one.

(And then he started talking about Parker pens, and saying names like “F14” and comparing his pen with other Parker models. For a while there, it almost  seemed like he was talking about cars. Which was good, and I think the kid knew about his fountain pens. )

Me: But hey, this is pretty cool…do you write?

Him: Yes, a little…but I haven’t the time lately.

Me: (handing the pen back to him), “Cool. Take care of that pen.”

Him: Yeah, this pen is going to outlive me.

Chamie, my co-resident who was also at the table with me also joined in the exchange. She knew about my thing about pens (and paper), and tried out the black pen, as well. She was pretty amused, but thought the pen too short…a longer pen, she said, also made you write in more beautiful strokes.

And myself, being the purist that I am, said solemnly, “No, it doesn’t really matter, the pen is the pen… it’s like, wow.”

(LOL. I don’t think that made much sense, though.)

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My job as a resident requires a lot of writing. Writing down notes and observations of patients, referrals…psych histories (and boy, are they long).  A good pen really does matter. Like our mentors always say, “ You, yourself, are the instrument. You don’t bring anything, no stet, no CT scan (although you have to order that in some cases), no flashy equipment that will tell you what is wrong with the patient, just yourself.

And a good amount of output involves writing out lengthy histories, like I said.

And good writing involves a good pen.

(And I got one today. It’s blue, and plastic, and has a cartoon of a penguin licking a popsicle, being licked in turn by a polar bear.)

Ok. The end. 

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Defense Mechanisms, 101:

ISOLATION OF AFFECT: This defense involves a split between thoughts and feelings. Painful, troublesome, frightening feelings are removed from the thoughts they usually accompany and forced from conscious awareness. This defensive style is recognizable in the person who is able to talk about things that would ordinarily make a person wince without any noticeable feeling. A doctor describing a mutilated accident victim in cool clinical terms is someone who is adaptively using isolation of affect.