14 May 2008
11 May 2008
Application Thesis
Topic: "A top priority of the University of Chicago Medical Center is to provide flexible and sensitive patient care."
The woman looked relatively normal, maybe a little sad. The rest of the patients on the locked psychiatric unit were far more distressed in appearance. Half the rooms were occupied by geriatrics, wandering the hallways either catatonic or lost to Alzheimer's. The other half was a regular rogues' gallery of psychoses and personality disorders. She just sat quietly, forlornly, perhaps a little sad. We were three hours away from change of shift. I was making my way through the halls asking patients the infamous "8 o'clock question". We had to find a way to ask if the patients have had bowel movements that day without shouting "bowel movement" every two minutes, hence, "8 o'clock question". Most of the patients either responded in kind or silently referred to their nurses. I was more than halfway through the population when I came across the woman, sitting on a chair in the middle of the hall, looking a little sad.
"8 o'clock question?"
"Huh? What? Oh! Umm... yes, I did."
"Great. Thank you." I marked it on my clipboard and moved on.
"Wait!... could I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure, let me just finish with the last couple patients. I'll be right back."
"Oh..."
She resumed her position from before I approached her. There were only three more patients left to ask, so once that was done, I dragged a chair across the hall and sat right next to the woman.
"Hi, what's going on?"
She looked at me as if I just asked her to marry me.
"You said you wanted to talk?"
"Oh... Okay."
The woman started to talk. She was deeply, deeply depressed. She had brought herself in for depression a week before, sat through five days of rounds, and was going to be discharged tomorrow morning. She hadn't felt any different. She didn't like the idea of going home. She was afraid of what would happen. She didn't want to go.
"Why didn't you tell anyone earlier?"
"I tried. I asked, but they never came back. I didn't want to bother anybody."
It's my job to be bothered. I sought out her nurse, explained to her what the woman had said. She took notes, went out to talk with the woman. The next day when I came in for my shift I found the woman had been discharged. Transferred, to another unit downstairs. Saw her again two weeks later at a bingo game on the 8th floor. She was bright and lively. She was excited to see me. She put aside the plush rabbit she just won and gave me a big hug.
"I'm so glad I talked to you. I don't know where I'd be without you. You saved my life. You really did."
A couple weeks later another woman was admitted. She was previously diagnosed with bi-polar affective disorder. Her family brought her in. She was ranting and angry. We had to change her into a hospital gown and check in her belongings, but she was far less than cooperative. They assigned her to me. As we walked down to her room, I let her vent. She was scared and frustrated. She had been to the hospital multiple times before and never enjoyed it. She didn't want to be here again. As we got to her room, I allowed her to take her time changing her clothes.
"Y'know, you're the only one here who doesn't make me feel like a freak."
"But, miss, you aren't a freak."
"But you don't know how hard this is. Coming into the hospital. I feel like a damn animal in here."
She spent the rest of the shift with the doctors after that. The next day she was an absolute sweetheart, a model patient, so happy that someone had taken the time to listen to her.
These are small examples, but I believe their roles are mighty. When people come into a hospital for health care, they really have no idea what to expect. They do want their problems and ailments relieved, but they don't want to get caught up in a system that takes away their humanity. A top Health Care Provider must learn to cover this area with broad brushstrokes as well as attention to fine detail. The medical staff, from Administrators to Doctors to Nurses and CNAs, are able to take the incoming patient and, from their file and initial meeting, establish triage, discover conditions, make diagnoses, and set up a plan of treatment. As technology improves and advancements are made, the medical staff can narrow down and perfect their course of action. They must be caught up on the latest of studies and be ready for any kind of anomaly that might appear in their waiting room. But that's only half of health care. While the medical staff is treating the illness, the rest of the hospital staff is here for the people. Those who are worried, frightened, confused, or downright lost, we are here to support and guide. University of Chicago is world-renown for its level of quality and excellence, which means people of all walks of life will walk through our doors, and each of them has a story to tell. It is our job to become attuned to their story and accommodate as best as possible. Content patients make fore more effective health care. It is as simple as that.
The woman looked relatively normal, maybe a little sad. The rest of the patients on the locked psychiatric unit were far more distressed in appearance. Half the rooms were occupied by geriatrics, wandering the hallways either catatonic or lost to Alzheimer's. The other half was a regular rogues' gallery of psychoses and personality disorders. She just sat quietly, forlornly, perhaps a little sad. We were three hours away from change of shift. I was making my way through the halls asking patients the infamous "8 o'clock question". We had to find a way to ask if the patients have had bowel movements that day without shouting "bowel movement" every two minutes, hence, "8 o'clock question". Most of the patients either responded in kind or silently referred to their nurses. I was more than halfway through the population when I came across the woman, sitting on a chair in the middle of the hall, looking a little sad.
"8 o'clock question?"
"Huh? What? Oh! Umm... yes, I did."
"Great. Thank you." I marked it on my clipboard and moved on.
"Wait!... could I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure, let me just finish with the last couple patients. I'll be right back."
"Oh..."
She resumed her position from before I approached her. There were only three more patients left to ask, so once that was done, I dragged a chair across the hall and sat right next to the woman.
"Hi, what's going on?"
She looked at me as if I just asked her to marry me.
"You said you wanted to talk?"
"Oh... Okay."
The woman started to talk. She was deeply, deeply depressed. She had brought herself in for depression a week before, sat through five days of rounds, and was going to be discharged tomorrow morning. She hadn't felt any different. She didn't like the idea of going home. She was afraid of what would happen. She didn't want to go.
"Why didn't you tell anyone earlier?"
"I tried. I asked, but they never came back. I didn't want to bother anybody."
It's my job to be bothered. I sought out her nurse, explained to her what the woman had said. She took notes, went out to talk with the woman. The next day when I came in for my shift I found the woman had been discharged. Transferred, to another unit downstairs. Saw her again two weeks later at a bingo game on the 8th floor. She was bright and lively. She was excited to see me. She put aside the plush rabbit she just won and gave me a big hug.
"I'm so glad I talked to you. I don't know where I'd be without you. You saved my life. You really did."
A couple weeks later another woman was admitted. She was previously diagnosed with bi-polar affective disorder. Her family brought her in. She was ranting and angry. We had to change her into a hospital gown and check in her belongings, but she was far less than cooperative. They assigned her to me. As we walked down to her room, I let her vent. She was scared and frustrated. She had been to the hospital multiple times before and never enjoyed it. She didn't want to be here again. As we got to her room, I allowed her to take her time changing her clothes.
"Y'know, you're the only one here who doesn't make me feel like a freak."
"But, miss, you aren't a freak."
"But you don't know how hard this is. Coming into the hospital. I feel like a damn animal in here."
She spent the rest of the shift with the doctors after that. The next day she was an absolute sweetheart, a model patient, so happy that someone had taken the time to listen to her.
These are small examples, but I believe their roles are mighty. When people come into a hospital for health care, they really have no idea what to expect. They do want their problems and ailments relieved, but they don't want to get caught up in a system that takes away their humanity. A top Health Care Provider must learn to cover this area with broad brushstrokes as well as attention to fine detail. The medical staff, from Administrators to Doctors to Nurses and CNAs, are able to take the incoming patient and, from their file and initial meeting, establish triage, discover conditions, make diagnoses, and set up a plan of treatment. As technology improves and advancements are made, the medical staff can narrow down and perfect their course of action. They must be caught up on the latest of studies and be ready for any kind of anomaly that might appear in their waiting room. But that's only half of health care. While the medical staff is treating the illness, the rest of the hospital staff is here for the people. Those who are worried, frightened, confused, or downright lost, we are here to support and guide. University of Chicago is world-renown for its level of quality and excellence, which means people of all walks of life will walk through our doors, and each of them has a story to tell. It is our job to become attuned to their story and accommodate as best as possible. Content patients make fore more effective health care. It is as simple as that.
03 May 2008
It's All About the Cocksucking...
I took in the film Art School Confidential rather recently. Brilliant underrated film. Terry Zwigoff, director of Crumb and Ghost World, follows in kind with this glowing rendition of a Daniel Clowes comic. The story is all about a young man starting out at the fictional Strathmore College with high aspirations: To become a great artist. In the meanwhile he gets caught up with the intrinsic pretension of all art students and scholars, self-doubt about his talent, and being distracted by an absolutely stunning (and sometimes scantily clad) Sophia Myles. There's a mass murderer out there who helps string the plot together, but it's a lovely little treasure of an art-house theater classic.
WARNING: Here be spoiler
There's a scene where Jerome, our young protagonist, is taken by his new best friend, Jimmy, to an apartment where resides a Strathmore graduate, a surly balding man whose once-prodigious talents have fallen way to narcissism, angst, and vodka. He sees Jerome with his bright-eyed optimism and tells him that if he wants to become a great artist, he'd better learn to suck cock. Jerome loses his luster, retorting that his talent will carry him to his goal but the jaded cad maintains, militantly, obsessively, convincingly, that sucking cock is the only way he'll be able to get anywhere in the business; the dankness and depression of his apartment and lifestyle apparently his testament of never selling out to the Pink Nazis. Jerome, spiraling down into scorn and desperation, finds himself with a less-deserving rival for not only the top spot in his class but also for the hand of Life Drawing model Audrey (the aforementioned drop-dead gorgeous Sophia Myles) and, in an effort to gain entrance to an important gallery show where Audrey and rival Jonah will be, pleads with the gallery owner, getting down on his knees, saying he would do anything to get in. Zwigoff leaves it up to us to imagine how Jerome got his golden ticket.Spoiler ends here
The cad is right. About sucking cock. Sort of. Cocksucking isn't always cocksucking. It can be, and oftimes is, but not all of us partake in that particular hobby (although the Casting Couch is alive and well in the mythos of the theater). The ideas (and the risks behind it) are very real. In the business of making a living out of art, you will be forced to do things you aren't comfortable in doing. You will have to exploit yourself for the sake of a greasy buck. You will have to take on projects you absolutely detest just so you can use your talents and instincts to pay your bills.
I felt I had done all that already. I dropped everything 2-1/2 years ago and went on tour for three months with a children's theater group living out of hotels getting paid chicken feed just so I could live a life as a full-time working actor. I halted all sense of a regular career to work at Starbucks and maniacally audition for shows for over a full year. I ended the paying summer gig this year so I could promote my own work instead. I thought I had done my work in the trenches and was ready to be promoted to Officers Training School. Start an empire. Make a name.
Apparently I haven't even started sucking cock.
In fact, I believe, the more you want it, the more cock you'll end up sucking.
Huh.
Step 1: Choose a better-tasting metaphor...
I felt I had done all that already. I dropped everything 2-1/2 years ago and went on tour for three months with a children's theater group living out of hotels getting paid chicken feed just so I could live a life as a full-time working actor. I halted all sense of a regular career to work at Starbucks and maniacally audition for shows for over a full year. I ended the paying summer gig this year so I could promote my own work instead. I thought I had done my work in the trenches and was ready to be promoted to Officers Training School. Start an empire. Make a name.
Apparently I haven't even started sucking cock.
In fact, I believe, the more you want it, the more cock you'll end up sucking.
Huh.
Step 1: Choose a better-tasting metaphor...
02 May 2008
Witnesses to the Execution
Thank you, everyone, who came by last night:
Kate Lesciotto
Bruce Lau
Melissa Skyer
Maggie Swatek
Jennifer Veselsky
Maxwell Veselsky
Elizabeth Hoag
And a special thanks to Beth Gainer, a stranger in the crowd who saw some guy moving tables and ended up sharing some moving poems about breast cancer.
It was a small but mighty gathering. I was exhausted afterwards. So glad the first one's over. This next one's gonna be ten times easier.
Thank you, everybody.
Kate Lesciotto
Bruce Lau
Melissa Skyer
Maggie Swatek
Jennifer Veselsky
Maxwell Veselsky
Elizabeth Hoag
And a special thanks to Beth Gainer, a stranger in the crowd who saw some guy moving tables and ended up sharing some moving poems about breast cancer.
It was a small but mighty gathering. I was exhausted afterwards. So glad the first one's over. This next one's gonna be ten times easier.
Thank you, everybody.
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