Pavlov

After reading the social scientist Dan Ariely's book, I've learned that I'm no better than Pavlov's dog. Ditto for Dan Ariely.

Dan experienced a devastating chemical burns accident and got a liver virus from an infected blood transfusion after three weeks in the hospital. For that, he had gone through an eighteen-month ordeal of interferon injection to kick the virus. While interferon treatment has clear health benefits and survival advantages, the medication came to effect at a big price - each shot is followed by shivering, nausea and headache, plus the fact that the drug can cause depression. Dan carried out a ritual every injection day: He would stop at the video store on the way to school and picked up a few films that he wanted to see. He then think about how much he would enjoyed watching them later. Once he got home, he would give himself the interferon injection and immediately jump into his hammock and start his mini film festival.

That way, Dan learned to associate the act of the injection with the rewarding experience of his favorite pastime. The trick allowed him to spend less time mulling over negative feelings of injection. Somewhat like the philosopher's stone that turns lead into gold. Sounds silly, but it isn't. In case you're wondering whether it works, here's the answer: He never skipped an injection.

Pavlov's dog started to salivate in response to bell after repeatedly hearing the bell together with the presentation of meat powder. Much the same could be said about mundane tasks that we would rather procrastinate. I did similar tricks by buying myself can coffee on the way to morning ward round and a can of Coke before the afternoon clinic. I also buy myself teddy bear gum sweets every month, before the otherwise miserable task of duty roster preparation. I could go on and on.