It must be January. Not because it's so hot, the tennis is on, and the traffic is slightly better in Melbourne at the moment. Because my patients tell me so. Because they have endured Christmas, and now feel the pain. They have spent time with their families, and this hasn't always been a great thing.
Why do we feel compelled to 'celebrate' with those who push our buttons and trigger our vulnerabilities? It's common for some patients to strengthen throughout the year, resolve to rise above dysfunctional dynamics, be confident in their decisions, only to undo this on 25 December. They feel obligated, emotional blackmail is unleashed and they spend time with those they avoid for 364 days of the year. The in-law, the grandparent, the cousin, somebody who has caused pain in the past is bestowed way too much power, and all is unleashed as if it was yesterday.
Somebody once told me that Psychiatrists invented Christmas to ensure there was plenty of work to do in a slow, cold European winter. More than just a joke. Time to roll up my sleeves and offer some healing for the next few months.
Insights from a modern day psychiatrist
Wednesday, 15 January 2014
Monday, 30 December 2013
Goodbye 2013
2013 began with a tragedy that turned into a miracle. I still suffer the results of the tragedy and don't for a minute think of the miracle. I was holidaying in a swanky resort in Waikiki with my son, trying to recover from a very busy year working as a busy shrink and driving new workshop creation for CPD Formulations. For some reason, I was meant to be in the pool at the moment a Japanese couple decided it would be fine to let their 3 year old toddler explore without supervision. I made the news, 5 Jan 2013, 'Waikiki drowning in resort pool'. Within a few muscle straining strides I grabbed a 3 year old stranger I just happened to come across while playing with my son, just as this unmanned tourist was about to head to the bottom of a resort pool manned by staff who did not know how to administer CPR. And the pool had no fence, much less no visibility, that is, no visibility of the bottom. When I reached him he looked dead, and as I cradled him in my arms and bolted to the side, I lost track of my son who I was ultimately responsible for. I presume my son got out of the pool sensing danger, and retreated to some sort of safety.
For a few excruciating minutes I forgot I was a Doctor and shrieked like a grieving mother, holding this little unattended stranger foaming at the mouth with no signs of life, and I could not find my boy. I placed him down by the side of the pool presuming that somebody, somebody, would take over, so I could see if my charge was out of the water and find out what he had witnessed. Within seconds, that felt like hours, and play out still in my nightmares I realised nobody knew what to do.
I have nightmares a year later, I have anxiety and I cannot bring myself to contact the resort for an apology. I guess that lay people think that Doctors don't suffer if placed in situations like this. If I was faced with this while on duty I would be hyper-vigilant, and more capable of dealing with the gravity of the situation, but at 10am that Sunday morning, I had 'clocked off' and more in tune with catching my son off the water slide.
One year on, I remain angry and in no way see myself as hero even though I have given this unknown child a second chance at life. I don't say this lightly, he was not breathing and heading head first to the bottom of a pool with no visibility, and no parents to watch him. His mother was in their room somewhere else and his father was sleeping on a deckchair.
What I am most angry about;
1. The parents that put myself and my son in that position
2. The same parents that did not even say 'thank you' for saving their son's life
3. The attitude of the citizens of US who are more terrified of being sued than administering first aid
4. To the hotel, the airline and the insurance company who would not help us come home away from the tragedy
5. To the police officer who tried to console my traumatised son by giving him his gun to play with
6. To any parent that expects others to take over the care and responsibility they should bestow.
What I am most grateful for;
1. My son, family and friends who kept me together until I could get home
2. To the burly Aussie life saver who got up as a tourist like me and helped me deliver the sloppiest CPR which somehow worked
3. To those at Royal Children's Hospital, Melbourne,who helped with debriefing when I finally got home.
What I know:
1. I am glad I live in a country where we have a respectful fear for water
2. I am a doctor who can save lives no matter what my peers think about psychiatrists being 'real doctors'
3. It will be a long time before I head to the US or stay at that hotel chain again.
Here's to a better start to this year, and wherever you are, unknown toddler, hope you are well and happy,
H
For a few excruciating minutes I forgot I was a Doctor and shrieked like a grieving mother, holding this little unattended stranger foaming at the mouth with no signs of life, and I could not find my boy. I placed him down by the side of the pool presuming that somebody, somebody, would take over, so I could see if my charge was out of the water and find out what he had witnessed. Within seconds, that felt like hours, and play out still in my nightmares I realised nobody knew what to do.
I have nightmares a year later, I have anxiety and I cannot bring myself to contact the resort for an apology. I guess that lay people think that Doctors don't suffer if placed in situations like this. If I was faced with this while on duty I would be hyper-vigilant, and more capable of dealing with the gravity of the situation, but at 10am that Sunday morning, I had 'clocked off' and more in tune with catching my son off the water slide.
One year on, I remain angry and in no way see myself as hero even though I have given this unknown child a second chance at life. I don't say this lightly, he was not breathing and heading head first to the bottom of a pool with no visibility, and no parents to watch him. His mother was in their room somewhere else and his father was sleeping on a deckchair.
What I am most angry about;
1. The parents that put myself and my son in that position
2. The same parents that did not even say 'thank you' for saving their son's life
3. The attitude of the citizens of US who are more terrified of being sued than administering first aid
4. To the hotel, the airline and the insurance company who would not help us come home away from the tragedy
5. To the police officer who tried to console my traumatised son by giving him his gun to play with
6. To any parent that expects others to take over the care and responsibility they should bestow.
What I am most grateful for;
1. My son, family and friends who kept me together until I could get home
2. To the burly Aussie life saver who got up as a tourist like me and helped me deliver the sloppiest CPR which somehow worked
3. To those at Royal Children's Hospital, Melbourne,who helped with debriefing when I finally got home.
What I know:
1. I am glad I live in a country where we have a respectful fear for water
2. I am a doctor who can save lives no matter what my peers think about psychiatrists being 'real doctors'
3. It will be a long time before I head to the US or stay at that hotel chain again.
Here's to a better start to this year, and wherever you are, unknown toddler, hope you are well and happy,
H
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)