psychomed

I suppose it would be right to say "a lot has happened" in the past 2 weeks or so. For one thing, we've started psychiatric medicine, which isn't a bed of roses even though it's somewhat entertaining. Plus, the discovery of a toetingling tearwelling heartwrenching perfect PERFECT drama series that has left me feeling sane despite, well despite everything.

We hung out at Woodbridge last week. Everybody gets one week at Woodbridge, on top of their psychiatric postings at the various general hospitals (I've been posted to NU!H). While it's not exactly a gloomy or desolate place, Woodbridge is still creepy. I think mostly because it's so vast and empty and you can sort of hear your footsteps echoing down the halls, so it's hard to visit the loo and not feel a little anxious, and one looks over one's shoulder a lot more often than normal. It was a very eye opening week. We saw a patient with a BMI of 11.2 (in case you're wondering, the lower limit of normal is 17) so she was basically a walking skeleton. Saw some schizophrenic patients, patients with dementia, delusions (paranoid delusions, jealousy, aliens, you name it), murderers, fetishists, kleptomaniacs, exhibitionists, substance abusers... People whom you'd not see in a normal ward normally. I don't think psychiatry is boring or anything, it's just that it requires a lot of patience because treatment is sometimes a lot of psychobabbling (i.e. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, CBT) or a lot of mindnumbing drugs. And one frequently has to wait ages for progress, and relapses are the norm rather than the exception. Plus patients aren't really themselves, so to speak. I truly admire people who have patience for psychomed. It's one of those things that are a calling. Clerking (aka interviewing patients) takes an hour or so, and is entirely draining. I am rather enjoying myself though :)

"I wish I were a lot more things, but I think I'm pretty alright."

the comedone and the mole

Dermatologist on Saturday. First visit ever, purpose of which was to

1. Remove "oil blob" on nose (turned out to be one giant comedone aka whitehead; it's over a year old, and I simply couldn't get rid of it myself without the risk of scarring)

2. Remove mole on corner of jaw because it'd been increasing in size (well, sort of!)

Walked away with all sorts of bowel cleansing supplements (apparently, I have a really bad gut in light of my blemished forehead), as well as future appointments for facials and more cautery to remove remnants of that dastardly mole! Am looking forward to somewhat clearer skin... Blob-free!

It's been sometime since I've been a patient, and more than ever, realize the importance of reassurance and competence. More than anything, the trust one inadvertantly has in the practitioner, and the value of the object one leaves in her hands (my face!), reaffirms the absolute power a doctor has over a patient. This patient anyway! Also, the importance of patient communication and after care really counts a whole lot toward whether one will come back for follow up consultation. Really oughta be seeing a greater variety of specialists (derm, ENT, opthalmo, plastics, etcetc) just to experience being on the other side of the table :) All for research purposes of course! Empathy, empathy, empathy.

must watch tv

What I really REALLY want:

1. BBC's North and South, 2004 (based on the novel by Elizabeth Gaskell)

2. BBC's Jane Eyre, 2006

North and South's selling at S$115 in HMV Singapore, and it's only about S$40 if I purchased it in Melbourne. Only, it's SOLD OUT down under of course. Started re-reading Jane Eyre, wikied it, found a bbc tv series with excellent reviews just out in 2006, and then read another review about North and South and it's apparently, the best BBC since 1995's Pride and Prejudice, "if not better!".

AAAAHHH. Am sorely tempted to buy it, $115 and all. Well, mug first : ( Fam med posting test tmr. It's hard.

Richard Armitage as John Thornton, in North and South

cuckoo

I don't normally like flipping my bird, but the number of occasions that warrant a flip have increased exponentially these last few weeks (but ladies, praise my restraint -- I've only flipped it once).

Just last week while waiting for a lot at a really crowded carpark, I got horned at for no earthly reason whatsoever. Honk HOOOOONK. So I stuck my hand out the window to indicate that he should overtake since I was waiting and there was plenty of room for him to overtake anyway (we're talking at least one and a half lanes worth of space). When he refused and honked AGAIN, I waited it out, thinking he'd actually just shuddup and move. When he refused and continued honking, consequently causing a massive build up of cars, I lost it and flipped my bird -- what am I supposed to do right? Make one round and lose my spot?? So out popped the Ah Beng. Ciggy in hand, he insisted I roll down my window so we could "talk". I mean -- does he think I'm DUMB or something? Of course I refused, so he started yelling and it got so embarassing, I dug my phone out and dialed 999 on the screen and flashed it to him. Haha worked like a charm : ) He threw that damned ciggy down told my mother to do all sorts of things and got in his hideous excuse of a car and sped off (see?? he could overtake!). I still don't understand why he went through all that drama. Must be impotent or something. When guys can't get it up, they either get depressed or seriously mad. Mad I tell you.

curtain

I hate how beauty parlour receptionists never fail to yell out whatever procedure you're having done loud enough so that everyone (and their hawt hunk of a brother on the other side of the phone) can hear.

It practically goes against all logic. I mean if someone's gonna have their bits trimmed/waxed/IPLed, they're getting them worked on so people won't know the existence of those bits right? And announcing them to the world pretty much defeats the purpose. One can only hope the receptionists at aesthetic clinics are more discreet.

This is why I only ever go to all-female beauty parlours. Firstly, because all of us totally commiserate with one another and politely pretend not to have heard the bloody receptionists. Secondly, there's that unwritten rule -- nobody, on no account whatsoever, is to bring a Man into the place.

This is also precisely why the Unisex Loo simply can't work. Men just want their women to look the way they see them on magazines and blah whatever pop culture trash they get their hands on. So what if a tonne of work went into all that? It's supposed to look effortless. Likewise, while we know of what grossout things men get up to when they hangout as a bunch of apes, it doesn't mean we wanna be there for the jekyll-hyde transformation.

Some things are really best left unseen.