Caffeine

Pardon if this jumps around a bit this week. I’m trying to drink more tea. Let me explain.

We were talking today about how much Coke a patient drinks – something like 4 liters a day – and if it was a bad thing. One of my classmates did some fast research and found out that you can actually become psychotic if you take in enough caffeine in a short enough time. The magic number – depending on how much you weigh – is 1 gram. Then we had to figure out how much is in Coke, coffee and tea.

If you’re jittery waiting for the answer, you’re drinking too much already…

I was worried about having 6-7 cups of tea; turns out I can have *40* before the problems start. It’s about 24 cups of Coke, so about 2.5 liters a day. Coffee? Just a few cups less; something like 20 cups, depending on how strong you like it.

My Dad’s coffee – well, that’d be about 7 cups…

Anyway, I had a lecture this week on ECT – Electro Convulsive Therapy. While it was made famous (or infamous) by Jack Nicholson in his 1975 movie ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’, it’s actually a very accepted and effective treatment for depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and bad hair days. To explain simply what ECT is, think of it like this: it reboots the system when it’s not functioning correctly.

Kinda like ‘CTRL-ALT-DEL’ for the brain.

What happens is electrodes are placed on the patient’s head (Not the, uh, nether regions – you know, down *there*. We leave that to those military contractors in Iraq. But I digress.) and the other end is connected to a power source (think DieHard Heavy Duty car battery) and a gentle (huge) electric current is sent through the brain. At most hospitals, these ‘treatments’ are given away from the other patients, but you can always tell when they are going on.

The lights flicker.

But what I want to know is who came up with this idea. Who looked at the table lamp and said, ‘Aye, young Johnny over there seems a wee bit blue. What say we plug him into yonder wall to see if it makes him feel better!’ Let’s face it, it sounds mean and barbaric – something you would do to people you don’t like very much or who you are trying to get even with.

I’m sure my brother tried it on me when I was growing up…

And with that, it’s the weekend. I’m finished at Repat; I have two more weeks of psych at FMC before I’m finished. In that time I have to write a paper or two and get ready for a short exam at the end. So I’ll do a bit of study this weekend in addition to some time with friends and playing at the beach. Not to mention getting a bigger teapot…

As always, Love to All and keep working on your 101 List!
Bryan

Love Boat

This past Monday, Amber started on Ward 17. She is an exchange student from the University of Texas, studying to be a social worker. While her trip Down Under is under the guise of finishing up her Masters Degree, I know the truth:

She’s looking for love on Ward 17. Let me explain.

I have heard from my single female friends that one of the hardest things to do is find a guy. Well, not just *any* guy; those are everywhere. But one of those guys who are the complete package: chivalrous, stable income, good sense of humor, stays in shape, attractive – the tall, dark, and handsome type, if you will.

Me, as an example.

Anyway, my type are not easy to find; women will go to great lengths to find us. Singles outings, bar-hopping, speed-dating, personal ads, AA meetings, computer dating, attending church-temple-mosque – my friend DD has even tried volunteering in prison to find a guy. (Think about the perks DD gets: her guy would have plenty of time to work out; no women around to stray with; he’d have a stable job in the prison metal shop; she always knows where he is; and she is free to do all the things she wants in life. Pretty ideal, if you ask me. But I digress.) But all you ladies are missing out on a great opportunity:

The Psych Ward.

And it wouldn’t be without precedent. In fact, Ward 17 – just in the time I have been there – has had a few ladies find their man. One of our older female patients seems to have fallen for the guy who writes his own poetry; he reads it to her over lunch. Another example is the mother of a patient; she was visiting her daughter when she saw an army veteran/patient in the dining hall. Their eyes met across a crowded room. Mum started coming in to visit *him* instead; when he was discharged, he went to see her instead of going home.

Who says love is hard to find?

And in the psych ward, you can find whatever you want: want someone who will listen to you? Find a catatonic. Someone who will keep up with you? There’s a manic in bed 16. Someone who will never leave you? Dependent personalities seem to thrive on Ward 17. And when you’re tired of your new man, just call up and have him detained. What could be a better way of breaking up with someone? And if nothing else, there are always the cute medical students…

Not to mention me.

So ladies, I saw you follow Amber’s lead and head to the local psych ward for love. Every body now: Love, exciting and new, come aboard, we’re expecting you…. (You can thank me later for having that song run through your head all day.)

And with that, it’s the weekend. I’m heading down to one of my favorite restaurants tomorrow to watch The Tour Down Under, an annual bike race here in Adelaide – nothing like sipping wine while watching athletic events. Other than that, I’ll get some work done on a psychiatry paper due in a few weeks. Not to mention starting a dating service…

As always, Love to All and keep working on your 101 List!
Bryan

Schutzenfest

Where do I even begin to describe my first two weeks in psychiatry?

Is it with the woman who has drug runners on her roof? Or the guy who is writing the soon-to-be-released hit song that is going to bring about world peace?

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Some details: in my psychiatry rotation, I’ll spend the final two weeks over at FMC, but the first four weeks I get to spend on Ward 17 of the Repatriation General Hospital. The Repat is the Aussie version of the Veterans Administration Hospital, with a focus on treating vets. However, it is also authorized to take war widows and civilians; as you can imagine, it makes for a very interesting mix.

Anyway, I show up on the first day, making sure my med student ID is very visible (no sense in getting confused with a patient on my first day) and I notice this guy out in front of the building having a smoke with a parakeet sitting backwards on one shoulder. I figure he’s there for comic relief or animal therapy – you know, some places bring in pooches to make the patients feel better. Nope. Turns out, he’s a patient.

The guy, not the bird.

After seeing him wander the wards with the bird on his shoulder (Or maybe the bird was flying around the ward with a guy in his claws. Didn’t think of it that way. But I digress.), I finally asked someone about it. With the medical issues this guy has, both mental and physical, Max is pretty-much his best and only friend and goes everywhere with him: out for a smoke, around the grounds for a walk, even into counseling sessions with senior psychiatrists.

But Max has created a minor disturbance on the ward.

There is another patient staying with us on Ward 17, courtesy of the courts. He’s big into health and fitness and is constantly lecturing everyone on the evils of sugar and caffeine (which is enough to put him on the bad side of the staff – not to mention the medical students – considering it’s all that keeps us going) and managing to stir up all the patients. Bird Man almost took a swing when he was lectured on smoking; seems Health Guy was rather concerned Max may develop emphysema from second-hand smoke…

Never a dull moment. And I haven’t even mentioned the patient who was discharged and went home with another patients’ mum he met during visiting hours…

I don’t know if I have ever mentioned this, but Adelaide has a very strong German heritage. You can get great bratwurst and potato salad just about everywhere. Well, every year they have this thing called Schutzenfest. It’s some kinda festival celebrating German culture: the beer will be flowing freely as competitors vie for prizes in archery and shooting contests.

Does anybody *else* see the problem inherent in this?

And with that, it’s the weekend. I’ll do some cleaning and maybe open a psych textbook, in addition to hanging out with some classmates. Not to mention heading to Schutzenfest – provided I can get my flak jacket back from the cleaners. Don’t want to go underdressed…

As always, Love to All and keep working on your 101 List!
Bryan

48 Weeks

48 Weeks

It is with much pleasure that I say to all of you, “Welcome to Year 4!”

Now, I know I was supposed to get back to everyone a few weeks back and let them know how I did on my exams. I guess I was just so overwhelmed that I passed that it escaped me to write a note.

That, and the tequila shots.

But thanks to God and the Exam Board (The latter of which I am fairly sure torture small animals and eat their young. But I digress.), I have started my fourth and final year of med school. Which means in roughly 48 weeks, I will be a doctor.

Trust me: it scares the heck out of me, too.

However, here is the good news: I come back to the US – for good – in 6 months. (God and the Exam Board willing – I wonder if a virgin sacrifice might appease that latter group…). I guess I should explain this year – it’s different from the past three. It’s broken up into 6-week blocks; there’s eight of them. You get some say into what you do, but you still have to fulfill certain requirements. So here is my schedule:

Now until mid-Feb: Psychiatry
Mid-Feb-March 28: Anesthesia
March 28 – May 8: Renal Medicine
May 8 – June 18: Ophthalmology

The first three are in Adelaide; the last one in Alice Springs – that’s the jumping-off point for Ayer’s Rock/Uluru. After my time in a Town Named Alice, I head home to do about 6 months worth of rotations in the US; I’m still setting them up. Right now, the leading contenders are in NYC, DC, Philly, Richmond, Raleigh, Cleveland, Columbus, and San Francisco. But I am open to suggestions, and I’m sure the bidding for me to come to your city will be fierce!

And like Olympics, I am open to bribes.

And with that, it’s the weekend. Next week, I’ll fill you in more on my duties on the psychiatric ward – aside from making sure they let me out every day. As for the weekend, I’ll read a little about psychosis and catch up with classmates returning from holidays. Not to mention cleaning up all these tequila bottles…

As always, Love to All and keep working on your 101 List!
Bryan