"It's reassuring to believe that circumstances are against you and that you would write a lot if only your schedule had a few more big chunks of time to devote to writing," says Paul J. Silvia, one of the psychologists who received the Berlyne Award. In How to Write a Lot: A Practical Guide to Productive Academic Writing, Silvia helps me see that this barrier, like most false beliefs, persists because it's comforting. I opened this book at random during my recent visit to City Hall Public Library, and could not stop myself turning page after page.
Why do I find this book nifty? A good question. Not that I aspire to be prolific in publication, but that I am writing less productively.
That admitted, I must further confess the shame I feel when caught napping (and with the dream of a big block of time such as spring break). Admit it – we've all indulged in the dream of waiting for the spring break, waiting for inspiration, and on and on and on. Put simply, there is a good chance that my manuscripts, study proposals, book chapters, manuscript reviews, and even reference letters for my interns, will never be finished because of the time wasted in the cozy dreams. The way we bask in such oddly soothing dreams is difficult to quit, much in the way that Peanuts character Linus clings to his security blanket.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Teaching
Ever had a bad luck that dooms your day? And as if that's not enough, your friends or classmates are highflying, and that can demoralize you indeed. After recent discussion among our colleagues and students, I'm convinced that taking a look at these bad luck theories can help.
The bad luck theory is one all-important law of human destiny. If we obey the bad luck theory, we shall almost be sure to get into endless trouble. The bad luck theory goes like this: "If I am assigned to a superb teacher like KL, I'll have the advantages that I didn't have." Or: "If I don't get the chance to listen to the heart sound of that patient with atrial septal defect, I won't be able to pick it up at the final examination..." I can hear the sigh already.
When we perceive ourselves at a disadvantage in our school or workplace (that is, most of the time) we tend to get anxious and picture the worst thing that could keep us struck. We sat there and imagined the worst lives that would be without the luck, playing out the consequences or self-fulfilling prophecy.
I'm sure the bad luck theory is too devastating and should be got rid of. There's going to be a completely different story if we remember the modern Pygmalion story of the musical My Fair Lady – I know this makes me sound optimistic, but I am – and accept ourselves who we are and what we have. To draw upon my student experience, I still remember the autodidact days when we didn't have a whiff of teaching on blood diseases. I ended up reading a textbook of Essential Haematology from cover to cover (but not other subjects within the area of medicine) by the time I graduated from medical school. Of course, I have better knowledge on this topic than other subjects for which I received tons of lectures.
The bad luck theory is one all-important law of human destiny. If we obey the bad luck theory, we shall almost be sure to get into endless trouble. The bad luck theory goes like this: "If I am assigned to a superb teacher like KL, I'll have the advantages that I didn't have." Or: "If I don't get the chance to listen to the heart sound of that patient with atrial septal defect, I won't be able to pick it up at the final examination..." I can hear the sigh already.
When we perceive ourselves at a disadvantage in our school or workplace (that is, most of the time) we tend to get anxious and picture the worst thing that could keep us struck. We sat there and imagined the worst lives that would be without the luck, playing out the consequences or self-fulfilling prophecy.
I'm sure the bad luck theory is too devastating and should be got rid of. There's going to be a completely different story if we remember the modern Pygmalion story of the musical My Fair Lady – I know this makes me sound optimistic, but I am – and accept ourselves who we are and what we have. To draw upon my student experience, I still remember the autodidact days when we didn't have a whiff of teaching on blood diseases. I ended up reading a textbook of Essential Haematology from cover to cover (but not other subjects within the area of medicine) by the time I graduated from medical school. Of course, I have better knowledge on this topic than other subjects for which I received tons of lectures.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Insane or In Synch
A man was about to stand up from his chair near the end of clinic consultation, when he asked me about his kidney problem. It's around lunch time on a rainy Monday, and after seeing 16 patients, I was wondering if I missed to make abundantly clear that his diabetes mellitus hasn't caused any complications.
"No, not at all. Not even a trace of protein in your urine. Let me repeat: your kidney function is perfectly fine," I explained in a professional manner after looking back at his blood test and urine results. I had a hunch (and it later proved to be pretty accurate) that this patient didn't believe in what his doctor – hell, a doctor with special interest in kidney disease – had said.
Yet, I saw no reason for the worry as to the odds of having kidney problems. He didn't even recall a single family member who had developed kidney disease. So our discussion went on and on and on. I told him it isn't possible. He told me it is. I told him it isn't. He told me it is. I was beginning to conclude that this guy must be insane until he told me about his weak kidneys taking a toll on his sex life. Bank on it. My patient was talking from the perspective of traditional Chinese medicine, wherein our kidneys take care of the sexual function.
There's a lot of this going around. The two of us were simply not in synch when we spoke to each other. There is a story about a five-year-old girl who was chatting with Daniel Gottlieb when they went for a trip in his van. Just as they pulled up to a traffic light, the girl asked this famous psychologist from the back of the van, "Uncle Danny, what does having sex mean?" Needless to say, this is not a question you and I want to answer. Finally Gottlieb took a deep breath, and whispered, "Having sex is what grown-ups do when they want to have a baby."
The older sister of that five-year-old girl wasn't impressed, though. "Uncle Danny, what are you talking about? My sister just asked you, 'What does heaven's sakes mean?'"
"No, not at all. Not even a trace of protein in your urine. Let me repeat: your kidney function is perfectly fine," I explained in a professional manner after looking back at his blood test and urine results. I had a hunch (and it later proved to be pretty accurate) that this patient didn't believe in what his doctor – hell, a doctor with special interest in kidney disease – had said.
Yet, I saw no reason for the worry as to the odds of having kidney problems. He didn't even recall a single family member who had developed kidney disease. So our discussion went on and on and on. I told him it isn't possible. He told me it is. I told him it isn't. He told me it is. I was beginning to conclude that this guy must be insane until he told me about his weak kidneys taking a toll on his sex life. Bank on it. My patient was talking from the perspective of traditional Chinese medicine, wherein our kidneys take care of the sexual function.
There's a lot of this going around. The two of us were simply not in synch when we spoke to each other. There is a story about a five-year-old girl who was chatting with Daniel Gottlieb when they went for a trip in his van. Just as they pulled up to a traffic light, the girl asked this famous psychologist from the back of the van, "Uncle Danny, what does having sex mean?" Needless to say, this is not a question you and I want to answer. Finally Gottlieb took a deep breath, and whispered, "Having sex is what grown-ups do when they want to have a baby."
The older sister of that five-year-old girl wasn't impressed, though. "Uncle Danny, what are you talking about? My sister just asked you, 'What does heaven's sakes mean?'"
Thursday, September 3, 2009
It has been two years since I joined Facebook. I still remembered my reluctance to accept my friend's invitation to join this social-networking site at the very beginning. Why? One reason – one of the big ones – is the anxiety of my space being invaded.
It's a thorny question. We're looking for ways to link with our distant friends. And yet, we might not want certain people (oh, say, our parents) to access our profile page. No matter how many times we hear the stories of Facebook users being caught as a result of their online pictures (for possession of alcohol, defacing a national monument, or any monkey business you can imagine), most of us keep on publishing our personal lives and tastes without a second thought.
Which brings me to a recent New England Journal of Medicine Perspective article about practicing medicine in the age of Facebook. That, in itself, is a remarkable essay of Facebook etiquette, reminding us the possibility of posting items on networking sites that might reflect poorly on us and the medical profession. In practice, doctors and medical students have been taught to be discreet in disclosing information. Matters aren't so straightforward when we surf the social-networking sites. We might simply assume that we're wearing Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak in front of a computer screen. The next thing we know - God forbid - we're naked.
It's a thorny question. We're looking for ways to link with our distant friends. And yet, we might not want certain people (oh, say, our parents) to access our profile page. No matter how many times we hear the stories of Facebook users being caught as a result of their online pictures (for possession of alcohol, defacing a national monument, or any monkey business you can imagine), most of us keep on publishing our personal lives and tastes without a second thought.
Which brings me to a recent New England Journal of Medicine Perspective article about practicing medicine in the age of Facebook. That, in itself, is a remarkable essay of Facebook etiquette, reminding us the possibility of posting items on networking sites that might reflect poorly on us and the medical profession. In practice, doctors and medical students have been taught to be discreet in disclosing information. Matters aren't so straightforward when we surf the social-networking sites. We might simply assume that we're wearing Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak in front of a computer screen. The next thing we know - God forbid - we're naked.
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