I am enjoying Elderly Psychiatry, despite overwhelming fears of not having my clinical partner to rely on during the week because she is off in Rutland doing our normal timetable and having early days. So :D

Normally I choose to run away from these things and almost believe I have a stomachache so I can take a day off. However, it is almost better to be alone when doing psych coz you can say all the crazy things you want without your fellow med student/doctor giving you strange looks. Each time I have to do something alone i.e. talk to a patient without the help of a fellow friend I trot off in trepidation while trying to appear comfortable and confident at the same time. I guess I am scared of the unknown. And I realise that much as I like to be different, I am still a fish. I hate to be alone unless I am safe in my home.

This week has been a real eye-opener for me. We were told in intro week to always tell someone when we were speaking to a psych patient and to always bring an alarm with us and blah dee blah... and perhaps I will for General adult Psych and Adolescent Psych, but old, supposedly crazy people are really not scary and probably not dangerous at all. So far I have spoken to sweet, harmless and gentle people (sounds like I am describing some huge but docile animal. like a whale) and it has been great fun! I had a really engaging conversation with a happily confused old lady and was quite reluctant to leave when it got late (the bus only comes every half an hour). She answered about two out of all our questions but it was super fun talking about her confabulated elephant(s). It was mentally stimulating too, trying to challenge her fantasy. And she told us she was in her forties, bless her. It is like listening to a story and watching it unfold as you dig deeper and deeper and try to see what they see. It got to a point where the elephant had a mother and father and could speak to her when He was hungry. Then we ran out of time. Hmph.

I do take back my previous misgivings and generalisation of psych patients. They are highly dramatised in books and TV shows and I must say I was influenced. At the start the really happy and chatty registrar was all like, "You should go talk to XYZ! He tells you all about his cat and it's really interesting! OH and PQR! She tells you the most amazing stories! It's really good entertainment! Sometimes when you get a bit low just go talk to ABC and after about five minutes you feel much happier..." I thought it sounded a bit wrong, the way he said it. But it is true, if you have the time. I think the old folks kind of enjoy the company as well. Particularly when many people do not really listen to them go on about things they want to go on about. Why not listen to some of their stories and stretch my imagination a bit? It is really great fun.

Last week I saw a pretty rainbow outside Morissons. I couldn't help but stop to let out a "Wah..." while blocking the exit. Funnily enough, this very pretty half rainbow triggered a memory from a long time ago, when we were still staying at 736. I remembered how Mummy used to like imparting scientific wisdom, particularly when they related to everyday events like rainbows and making your own glue. We were also often made to think of why things happen the way they do and to try and find out the problem and fix spoiled/broken things before giving plumbers and electricians a go. Ok I only thought of the rainbow and glue part when I saw the Morissons rainbow but now I am riminiscing.

One day, the topic was "Rainbows", which were a new, rare and magical thing to us back when we were young. And Mummy said,

"Do you know that you can make your own rainbow?"

And we (or I) was all,

"Whooaaoaoa... Like, paint the sky?"

I was not a bright child.

Mummy started explaining about reflection and refraction and light and water and things. So we trooped down to the grass patch downstairs with a bottle of water to watch our mother produce a rainbow out of a mouthful of water. We might have gotten a tiny shimmer of colour at one point but all in all, I learnt that even rainbows are not magical and that science can explain everything.

Unfortunately, the memory of Mummy walking around with a mouthful of water searching for a good, solid ray of sunshine to experiment on, with 3 excited girls in tow brought a bubble of giggles to my throat, which I initially managed to control. But when I thought of her forcefully spitting each precious mouthful of water in order to achieve maximal spray effect (and 3 mesmerised girls staring intently at the mixture of water and saliva droplets), I burst out laughing at the Morissons entrance. And my nice housemates who had mixed expressions of surprise, bewilderment and concern were nice enough to chuckle along politely when I explained my unprovoked laughter.

Ah. Fond memories. You know you are getting old when these things start to make you gaze off and smile for a while.