Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Easter 2017

The recently ended season of Easter was quite the enjoyable experience. This time, especially, since I got to spend most of those days away from work. An eclectic bunch of memories from my past cross my mind whenever I think of my past Lents/Easters. In no specific order, I think of

  1. 5-day holidays from being in a Catholic high school (Holy Thursday to Easter Monday)
  2. Easter of 2014, probably the last holiday period I enjoyed before the start of my internship period. (That was an exceptionally hard year)
  3. There was that one Easter in China when the church I used to go to burnt down
  4. Preaching on Psalm 22 one year, only to have someone else preach a totally different (contradictory) message on the same issue a year later.
  5. 2007, my first year in China, when the whole season went by without me even realizing it. 
  6. 2004, Messiah College: choosing an extremely hard challenge in terms of what I gave up for Lent
  7. 2004, Messiah College (redux): having one of my Kenyan colleagues concoct an April Fools' Day joke so hard it rocked the Messiah community to its core. (They were none to pleased with Kenyans for a bit there)
  8. Mr. Creavey (who'd occasionally give me a lift to Elizabeth Ann Seton Church) and his sons playing trumpets during Easter Sunday mass on Patti Drennan's "Sing, O sing a jubilant song."
  9. Cathy Poiesz organizing the small catholic community at Messiah for a lovely night service at a massive church in Harrisburg (possibly Cathedral Parish of Saint Patrick). I remember the choir had balcony seating and sang a haunting rendition of "Remember your love"
Apparently my most vivid memories are associated with my time at school. Seems like I'm itching for the good bit of education 4 years after graduating, but that's a story for another time. Seems like all I do these days is work, and then when I get some time away from work all I want to do is de-stress. I would've loved to indulge myself in all that the season of Lent presents, but with the exception of 2016, my mind can't really be tamed enough to meditate.

I love this season, its sombre tone, the heartfelt music. It is the most appropriate season for me to contemplate "What wondrous love is this" or "God of Mercy and Compassion". Well, in any case, I can't be too hard on myself. This (religion) is more than just the seasons in which I get reminded to reinvest myself in things heavenly. It is an everyday walk that I need to apply myself to. Thank goodness I've got leave coming up in May. I need to find myself some place quiet to just put everything in perspective, and time away from the disillusionment with medicine I've had of late.

I may have barely made anything of myself this season, but I'm hoping to make something of myself starting this week. Feeling doubly blessed after that 3-day weekend (ended up being pulled into work on Good Friday), and this week my boss is at a conference overseas so I get to exercise more control over patient management. Definitely looking forward to shorter ward rounds and more time to myself. This is what dreams are made of.

God Bless.

Thursday, April 6, 2017

The Things That Medical School Won't Teach You (3) - The Giggles



I'd like to start this particular post with a very specific memory: it was circa 1997 and I was in my first year of high school. We were out on the sports field taking part in a class rugby game, and a member of the opposing team tackled me by grabbing me around the waist and swinging me backwards. It was by no means a bad or dangerous tackle (I've taken much worse hits), but unfortunately, I fell awkwardly on my right wrist and experienced excruciating pain.

I dragged myself onto the sidelines and sat out the rest of the game. Despite licking my wounds, the pain had not subsided by the game's end. From there it was off to the high school clinic, then back home, and finally off to the hospital (the former Masaba Hospital, if my memory serves me right). Just as I'd feared, I had fractured my wrist. Was probably a stress fracture because I can recall that, not too far back, one of the poles from a tent had struck that same wrist while we had dismantled a tent at school. At least it wasn't bad enough that it would require an implant; but it did require me to endure a POP cast for a period of 3 months. The worst part of this whole affair was the indignity that I was exposed to at the hospital. I remember the two female nurses taunting me for having the gall to play rugby, me being so spindly and all. Even worse, each of them kept squeezing the wrist to elicit the tenderness. Worst of all was when the doctor showed up and joined in the taunting. I remember that he was a massive fellow, but despite his stature, he claimed that he wouldn't be caught dead trying to play rugby. What on earth made me think I could indulge in the sport? Three taunting medical professionals, a fistful of pain and a dented ego made for one unbearably bad night.

Fast forward to my days as a medical professional, and the experience has been softened in hindsight. This is neither an admission that I have taken up a heavy-handed approach to patient care nor find it acceptable for other practitioners to disregard their patients; it is, rather, an admission that sometimes one person's malady can be another's (comedic) pot of gold.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again: a lot of your friends/family/colleagues who work in the medical field are damaged goods. You can attribute that to years and years of rigorous training, being part of a profession where your superiors have the bedside manner of an army drill sergeant, and impossible situations that everyday practice will throw your way. Like any good professional, we get used to the life....and then we begin to find humour in even the most macabre of situations.

Thus my disclaimer would be, "we're laughing with you, we're not laughing at you!"

Medical personnel's brains are wired a bit different from the rest of the population. In much the same way that firemen (and other first responders) are geared to run towards situations of danger, we actively seek out those situations that we've been trained to handle. A lot of times we're even fascinated by all that strangeness. A lawyer friend of mine was talking about his experiences with helping Key populations (aka people most at risk of contracting HIV - Gay men and IV Drug users). He commented that some gay people feel stigmatized when they show up with anal infections because the nurses start calling each other, "Kujeni muone maajabu!" (come see these wonders!)
Two things are at work here:

  1. Bad PR because sometimes we focus more on the ailment than the person.
  2. Utter fascination at getting to see things that previously we've only ever encountered in our books.
Size, complexity, consistency...really a treasure trove for the senses. If you happen to be at a teaching hospital, you and your "condition" will be celebs for the day.

Thanks to shows like House MD, which exaggerate bits of the medical experience, you can understand that our minds are trained to probe situations, sometimes to extreme lengths. So, for example, when a patient walks into the Emergency Room with a fractured penis, normal minds might stop at merely thinking "Ouch! That must really hurt!" But not your medical friend. His/her mind works a little like this

  1.  "Ouch! That must really hurt!" Let me take care of the patient's discomfort first.
  2. Let me document the patient's account of what happened (Will it be truthful, though? Patients lie, right?)
  3. The likely cause of injury occurred when aforementioned part probably encountered such-and-such in a traumatic clash 
  4. Chances are that the woman that caused this "accident" is not likely to be the man's wife, because statistics show that ...
  5. My colleagues have heard about this case and have come trooping down to see for themselves what's up. Everybody's going to be giving their "2 cents" about this case.
  6. How on earth am I gonna keep a straight face when I have to present this case to my consultant?
If it's a good day, I'd be putting on my stoic face and would succeed in keeping a straight face throughout the whole encounter. If it's a bad day, anything can set you off laughing. Sometimes the patient's voice or demeanor could be a trigger; sometimes the consultant will callously utter such a brash statement that leaves you beside yourself with laughter. At other times, it's just the nature of the situation. I remember getting the giggles when my colleague was presenting a patient history in the ward: this middle aged lady had been walking home in the dark and had, in a stroke of bad luck,  randomly fallen into a pit latrine that was being dug. Don't know what it was about the case, but it left me in stitches. However, God forbid that you should draw attention to yourself by randomly bursting into laughter while you're in a team of 15 conducting a ward round. You suppress that laughter like a boss and ride out the period of mirth.

Sometimes I feel guilty, like I'm headed to hell for finding some of these things funny; but, it is a coping mechanism. I think you'd rather prefer that I find your situation funny and can engage with it 100%, as opposed to fearing it and being overwhelmed by it as most normal folk would. As the disclaimer states, "I'm laughing with you, not at you!" Don't condemn us for our laughter/amusement, but appreciate that it is a joyous part of our day to find amusement in a day's work.

God Bless.