How would you describe youself?

Anytime I've written or responded to a craigslist ad, I've always desribed myself as petite, fit, fun, cute and outgoing. It just rolls off my fingers as I type. Never would I have written aggressive (possibly sadistic), self-confident (borderline narcissistic), dramatic, and conscientious (a tad OCD).

Well those were the top 4 peaks on my personality self-portrait graph.

I went into work yesterday, and Dr. R said he felt bad that he hadn't taught us much. We went back to his office and he started blabbering away. He might have been trying to apologize for his passive-aggressive behavior through patient examples. This man may either be really clever or just not know when to shut up. (After today, I'm pretty sure it's the latter).

Anyways, in his dramatic speech about how he may be deemed passive-aggressive with us med students he side-tracked to talk about personalities and handed me a comprehensive personality test. I'm talking over 100 questions to be followed by calculations, plots and graphs.

It was my task to take this personality test, so I spent a good hour doing the thing. When finished I had no idea what the numbers or graph meant, but I did notice aggressive was a peak on the graph towering above all the rest.

I took my finished assignment back to Dr. R. He commented on the aggressive peak and said "yeah, I can see that."

What the hell does that mean? I'm not aggressive. At least I didn't think I was. So I took the book and read the chapter on aggressive.

Hmm wow, ok so umm... yeah, I guess I can be pretty aggressive. And geez yeah, people have said some of the exact words to me in the chapter, especially after a night of drinking.

Well the good thing about this book is that not only does it describe the various aspects of personalities, but it gives us 2 very important sections: How to deal with these people and exercises these people can do to tone things down.

In some ways I need to tone down the aggression, but in other ways I need to embrace it. Aggression is the reason I compete so well. Aggression is the reason I have CEO potential. Aggression is the reason I have succeeded in most of what I've done. Aggression is the reason some men can't get enough of me... sadism is the reason I keep these men around ;)

I'll do what I can to avoid the progression towards sadistic personality disorder, but for now I think I'll be myself.

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Surgery Flashback

"I told Dr.K I didn't want medical students, but he's making me take you guys." - Dr. R

That's how my classmate and I were greeted this morning as we started our first day of adolescent psychiatry. Not exactly welcoming, but I chose to ignore that statement. My last two weeks of psych have been awesome, and every psychiatrist I met has involved us med students.

Right after Dr. R said that to us, he went on to teach us quite a bit about adolescents. It didn't seem at all like he didn't want us there, so I actually felt quite comfortable when the time came to see patients.

Our first teenager had run away from home. Through her interview we learned a bit about past sexual and physical abuse, anger towards a parent, trouble with school... the typical profile for a teen psych patient.

When Dr. R finished, he asked the social worker if she had any more questions for the patient. She had a couple. Afterwards, she looked up towards my classmate and me. I wanted some more details on the patient's siblings and home life, so I went ahead and asked questions.

Through my questioning, we discovered some intense physical abuse toward the patient and her siblings. After I finished and the patient left, Dr. R turned towards me and my classmate (but more specifically me) and bitched us out.

"I ask a very specific set of questions. These are MY patients. I don't need a PCP running her mouth asking a whole bunch of questions. It reveals a whole bunch of problems that may need to be addressed, and I've already decided what I want to handle. Asking more questions adds MORE WORK that I DON'T want to do."

I felt like I was back on my surgery rotation. I was flabbergasted and immediately retreated... just like I did on surgery. My classmate, too, was in awe of what just happened. He shut up too.

But I don't regret what I did. The only extra "WORK" I added to his workload was a 2 second phone call to DHS to investigate the situation. How dare anyone complain about something as important as keeping a child safe?

I am beyond shocked at what happens to children that brings them into the psychiatry unit, so there is no way in hell I'm going to shut up when help is available.

Fuck You, Dr. R.

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Popularity interferes with masturbation

Having short days in the psych ward gives me plenty of free time after work to do absolutely nothing, except wish for my vibrator. The problem is up in Maine, we all live dormstyle. Small rooms, thin walls...

Having all this time and no vibrator has given me the opportunity to explore masturbation with the fingers only. I must say it is MUCH harder work. I actually feel sorry for guys.

Having always relied on the quick fix of my vibrator, I've never tried just fingers before. It's not so easy, and I am directing myself as to what feels good!

Today I wasn't successful, but I also didn't get enough time. My classmate decided to knock on my door and semi-barge in. I pulled out pretty quickly, still hovering under the covers. But damn that could have been mortifying.

Everyone is waiting for me to decide when to go drinking. Freakin retards!

Popularity is ruining my masturbation life.

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Swiped Out

Swipe instant messaged me out of the blue yesterday. I think the last
time I saw him was before I started medical school. He was one of my
random craigslist hook-ups in NYC.

He is a guy who loved to plan dates full of unique activities, a highly attractive quality since I am generally looking to do new and exciting things.

I met him New Years 2005 I believe. I decided to party it up in NYC with some college friends. I planned to stay a few days, so to not overwhelm my host I set up a few craigslist dates.

Swipe happened to graduate from our same college. I met him for dinner. He took me to an Italian place he had been dying to try. For dessert he took me to a cafe featured in some well-known movie.

He came on strongly. I usually get put off by that, but it was different. He is a man who goes after what he wants, yet only gives a taste. He kissed me but didn't push further. The confidence was striking... the patience was excruciating.

He called me the next day to invite me to a new years party. Though I had plans, I felt I could squeeze him in. I met him at his place. He wore a gorgeous maroon button down shirt under a suit. I had to have him, so while waiting I blurted out that I wanted to fuck.

He thought that was hot. We went at it. I kept my dress and boots on. He ripped off his shirt like superman. (I soon found out that he is a comic book geek.)

The party went smoothly, and we parted ways the next morning. We still kept in touch and I ended up visiting him again over the summer. Our days and nights were filled with fun activities. He told me how difficult it was to find that special someone in NYC, someone who enjoyed trying new things, someone who generally saw the bright side of life.

After another fun time together, we parted again. This time we didn't keep in touch too well. He was barely online. I started medical school. I'll never forget though... one time in the fall I did see him online and said hello. He immediately signed off and I never heard from him again.

To have a conversation last night after over 2 years felt unusual, but it went pretty well. It was mature. He told me he thinks of me fondly, and he went on and on about how much NYC women suck.

I replied that I don't think he's giving NYC women a chance... and I told him about RedSox.

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Suicidal... and Hot

On the way into the conference room to admit a new patient, he walked out. He was in scrubs and really hot. Since all rational thought goes out the window in my gaga state, I assumed he was a male nurse or an orthopedic surgeon.

He had that scruffy look going, appeared to be in shape. He had those nice, dark, brooding eyes. I didn't get a chance to look him over further, but I hoped to see him again.

A couple hours later, the attending called in his next patient. It happened to be the aforementioned hottie. It turns out he tried to kill himself last night. I missed the bandage around his wrist initially, instead focusing on his perfect hair. He decided he didn't want to be in the world anymore, and he was perfectly nonchalant about it.

Oddly enough, I found that incredibly sexy.

He said he almost jumped off the roof, but realized 3 stories was more likely to paralyze him. So he climbed back down.

How smart.

After he left, the attending turned to me and said the hottie was schizophrenic with comorbid alcoholism.

I love to drink too.

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Bang Whore

Bangor is pretty... pretty freakin boring. ok ok, I haven't given this "city" a chance yet, but I'm bored.

I didn't bring up a car like everyone else, but even then no one else is out exploring. I was told there's a mall down the road with a great GAP store. I had to restrain myself from shouting "Saks and boutiques only!"

The air is dry. Most of us have woken up stuffed up ever since we arrived.

But there are some cool things. My psych rotation is going to be crazy in a good way... with lots of crazies (and it's not cool for them). Apparently the methadone clinic here is one of the largest in the country.

My classmate actually knows someone here, and they happen to own a chinese restaurant. We happened to go there last night... and they put our entire meal on the house. We ordered the duck people. It's the most expensive item on the menu.

I guess I'll give Bangor a little bit of a shot, but I imagine I won't have much to write about over the next 6 weeks.

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