Monday 25 April 2011

Psychiatry is Awesome. But Only If You Have A Sense Of Humor.

I love psychiatry.

I do. I'm not talking about psychology. Psychology and psychotherapy is important too, but eventually with some patients, you're going to hit a brick wall, and that's where the wondrous drugs psychiatrists prescribe comes in.

Anti-depressants, Anti-psychotics, Sedatives are the legal equivalent of mushrooms, ecstasy and heroin. That alone makes the field of psychiatry a world rife with rainbows and unicorns.

Now, I need to mention that Kasr Al Aini does in fact have a Psych Ward, and a good one at that. But you have to understand something:

The mentality of the normal Egyptian does not allow for psychiatry and the study of the mind. Ergo, you need to be really really fucked up in the head for your family to commit to you a government hospital's psych ward.

Needless to say, my month spent in the Psych Ward was fucking awesome.

I remember the first day I went. I was looking for the resident so that she'd be able to give me tips and pointers on how to deal with the patients. What to say, what to do, etc.

I met the nurses and security guards and asked about the resident's whereabouts. They told me she was out and due back at any moment. So I decided to wait.

A man came up to me. Big and burly. He looked at me straight in the eyes and just groaned a big UGGGHHHH. I figured he was one of the patients so I asked the nurse what I should do. She looked and told me not to freak out.

So I freaked the fuck out.

He kept touching my pockets till he got to my cigarettes. Then he made an ever bigger groan GAUHHHH.

The zombie was communicating with me, and I think he wanted cigarettes.

"Do you want a cigarette? Is that what you want?" I felt like I was talking to Lassie.
He nodded his head like Mary's retarded brother in 'There's Something About Mary"
I took one out and gave it to him. He started smoking and he seemed calm.

I decided to wait in one of the empty rooms till the resident showed up.

Motherfucker followed me and closed the door right behind me.

So let's paint a picture of the situation right now. I'm locked in an empty room with a zombie. Rape was inevitable.

He walked to me and his face was RIGHT in front of my face with only a few centimeters of space in between.

"GRAAAAAAAH!!"

I prayed to God and hoped the zombie would  have mercy on my anus.

Just as I was about to scream, he started laughing.

I got Punk'd in the Psych Ward.

Wait. It gets better.

We started talking and I figured he was the security guard (they don't usually wear uniforms). He asked about what I wanted to specialize in and whether or not I was interested in Psychiatry as a field or not.

"Of course I am. I love psychiatry. I think it's interesting."
"That's great. Well you'll have a great time here. Most of the patients are harmless so you've got nothing to worry about. So are you more in interested in the Drug Rehabilitation side or the Psychiatric Illness side?"
"No, I'd definitely have to say the Psychiatric Illness side. The problem with Drug Rehabilitation is that the patients are usually assholes. You help them. They swear they won't do drugs again, and within a week they've relapsed and they're back here again. It's just a waste of time."
"Umm.. I'm a druggie."
".................You're not a security guard?"
".......No. I've been here for 2 weeks now and I think I'm ready for the outside world."
"Oh... I'm sorry for what I said then. So what drugs were you addicted to?"
"Hash and Tramadol. I really am worried I'm going to relapse Doc."
"Well listen, I understand they're both drugs and everything and you'd be much better off without any of them, but if you HAD to relapse, then go back to Hash. You need to stop taking the Tramadol. Hash is totally fine so long as you do it in moderation."
"Wait, so you're saying I should smoke Hash?"
"No, No, No. That's not what I'm saying at all. I'm saying that IF you were to relapse, then relapse on the Hash because it's much easier to quit too."

My first day of Psychiatry and I might have accidentally convinced a recovering addict to smoke Hash again.



I'd say that was a good day.




PS: I had taken his number and I'm happy to say that he's clean and gotten his life back together again. He still smokes hash, but MUCH less than he used to. Which is fine, I think?


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