conversations in a hospital #3

i still remember my very last cigarette. i can see it exactly.
i was sitting at the dining room table in our last apartment on the danforth, doing a dreaded roy care plan for a patient.
bob had quit a week before me.
i remember taking a drag and saying "this is it. my last cigarette ever."
i can feel the taste of the filter on my lips, the smoke entering my lungs.
and then i stubbed it out. i continued on with my assignment and i left the butt there in the ashtray in front of me, staring it down.
just me and the desire.
then, as i went to bed, i cleaned out the ashtray, threw out the rest of the pack...woke up the next day a new person, never to smoke again.

this picture was slowly fading from my mind but came back with vivid force as i sat helpless by my 85 year old patient while she hacked out a lung.
in between breaths she whispered "i" *cough* "have" *cough* "chronic" *cough* "bronchitis" *cough*
and emphysema. and a gangrenous foot that will have to be amputated from vascular disease related to congestive heart failure.
but she quit smoking a month ago.
pointing to her body she says "i'm not having this outfit again! it's broken".
was she ever a feisty one! so full of life and cackly laughter.
the 85 year old chain smoker you see sitting in the bingo hall or cursing obscenities at a slot machine.
still trying to pick up 25 year old residents.
and i wonder if i never stopped smoking, if i too would have a feisty demeanor, still laughing in the face of adversity.

conversations in a hospital #2: the mudville 9

Mr L was a "vocal musician" until cancer ruined his larynx.
"that's just reality, these things happen"
lying in bed with a blood pressure way beyond the normal limits of any living person, Mr L told me about the few hundred different species of birds he owns at a sanctuary west of barrie.
a diabetic with hardly any teeth, sucking on a hard candy, he begged me to take him outside for a cigarette. he tells me that suffering from bipolar, he shouldn't be in this hospital, he needs to be in a mental institution.
i tell him that he needs to get his physical body better first.
he tells me the body and mind go together and his mental state is not getting any better in a hospital where they neglect his mental illness.
"i'm not a brave person. i've cursed myself many times over"

the power of situation

discussing social influence and conformity in psych class this week i got to thinking about the zimbardo prison study again.
this one never goes away.
i can always go back to this, however unethical, and relate societal pressures and the need for acceptance to the roles we take on.
like the other self.
zimbardo himself even testified at the Abu Graib prisoner abuse scandal.
he argues that even good people can turn evil.
pretty much.
(i'm not at all defending the "soldiers" who tortured prisoners)
in groups it's difficult to go against the grain. to be an individual.
it's easier to obey orders and follow the crowd.
that was what the "soldiers" said. they were just "following orders".
the government said they were bad apples.
the government, passing the blame back to the individual.
in doing so, making the fundamental attribution error that we all are guilty of.
in a society that values personal achievement and individualism, yet is built on the power of conformity, allows us to still blame others when group interactions go wrong.
personal traits vs situations.
there's nothing wrong with the system, it's the people.
this implies nothing needs to change.
it's a fine line between compliance and obedience.
it's easier to obtain compliance when deindividuation occurs.
that uniformity becomes comforting and it becomes easier to change our beliefs than our behaviours.
and it allows society to stip away our individuality and increase our allegiance to the group mentality.
i wore a catholic school uniform growing up.

~
In the background: 2008 Giller Prize

happy birthday

to the love of my life.

for your birthday, on this day when i feel that i am so broke that i can't buy you anything, but know that that feeling is misguided because we both know that money can't buy love and happiness, and yet it still makes me feel bad
(ah, the guilt of our society)

for your birthday, on this day what i wish is that everybody could see how extraordinarily talented and intellgent and just how fantastic you really are.

for your birthday, on this day i want you to know that some day everybody will hear your music, will see your photos, will marvel at your abilities and be awed by you. like i am awed by you.

i am so fortunate to be able to lie in bed each night and wake up every morning next to you.
xo.