Categories
Medicine Nonfiction Seattle

Questions After a Suicide.

To my knowledge, three people who were under my care killed themselves.[1. Additionally, three people who were active patients of mine tried to kill themselves. Then there are the people who have killed themselves, and I am simply unaware that they have died from suicide.]

The first was a young man—late 20s, maybe?—who I met while I was a psychiatry intern. He was hospitalized in the psychiatric unit where I had just started my rotation. I did not have the opportunity to get to know him well. Our paths crossed, at most, for two days. He had a diagnosis of schizophrenia. I can conjure up his face in my mind, though I do not remember his name. He didn’t blink much. While his face did not betray fear, he often looked uncomfortable.

I don’t know how many days he had been out of the hospital before he died, though I think it was within a week of his discharge. He jumped off of the Aurora Bridge (before a suicide prevention fence was installed) into Lake Union in Seattle.

The second was a man in his late 40s who had repeated visits to a crisis center. He did well in college and earned a law degree. His career as a lawyer was cut short due to problems with depression and alcohol. From there he became homeless and destitute. He had a diagnosis of major depression. Some professionals thought he had a personality disorder.

He was smart and sarcastic. While he was often critical of everyone around him, there were moments when he was self-effacing. After we had worked together for a few months, he commented that he liked “debating” with me, though I suspected that arguing was the only way he knew how to interact with other people. On the rare occasions when he took a break from his self-loathing, he considered how his life could change. He didn’t drink as much alcohol now as he once had, but it still helped him forget his shame and regret.

When I learned that he had died from an overdose of methadone, I knew immediately that he had intentionally killed himself. He had no history of using opiates, but he knew how, with or without alcohol, they could end his life. Over a month had passed between our last conversation and his suicide. When I learned of his death, I asked him—as if he could hear me—why he didn’t come back to the crisis center. He knew that he could.

I have not forgotten his name. Earlier this week, I saw his name in a newspaper. It wasn’t him, of course; the name belonged to an author who was promoting his book. I hadn’t seen this name elsewhere before. It made me wonder if my patient was saying hello.

This past week, I learned that a third person who was under my care killed himself. He was in his 20s, smart, and funny. When his symptoms were active, he was very ill. In the minutes to hours leading up to his death, was he experiencing a resurgence of his symptoms? Or was he mulling over how his illness could impact his life in the future and decided to impact his life first?

The last time I spoke with him, we talked about how his condition did not define him. His identity wasn’t solely his illness. We talked about the things he wanted to do in the future and how he could accomplish those things.

The person who called me to tell me the news heard my breath catch in my throat.

Death, while uncomplicated in some ways—it’s a permanent cessation of all vital functions, the end of life—our attachments make it complicated in other ways. We have so many questions that will forever go unanswered. We wonder where the dead go. Does a part of them persist outside of our memories? And for those who kill themselves, what happened? What got in the way of them asking for help? What made death the best option? What made them believe that the rest of us could not or would not understand?

The end of a life never just impacts the individual who died. The ripples spread far and wide. We search for words to describe our grief, but language fails us.


Categories
Medicine Nonfiction

Follow Up.

To my surprise, he called my name and asked to talk with me.

I didn’t bring up the incident that had occurred the last time we spoke: He got upset because he believed that I had put voices into his head. I wanted him to associate me with attributes other than hallucinations. There was no way I could help him if he believed that I was doing things against his wishes.

“So, hey,” he volunteered after we had spoken for a few minutes, “I’m sorry for yelling at you the other day. I was already thinking about robots and when you asked me about them, I freaked out. I’m sorry.” A sheepish smile bloomed on his face, but his eye contact did not waver. He looked and sounded sincere.

“It’s okay,” I replied. “This is a stressful situation and sometimes we all get upset over things that we feel like we can’t control.”

He nodded. We talked about the voices—they were still talking to him, but they were quieter now—and what other things he could do so they wouldn’t bother him as much.

Even though I’ve been doing this work for years now, there are still moments when I am astonished with the effectiveness of medications for symptoms of psychosis. I already knew they can save lives. I already knew they can transform lives. And yet!

“I am going to ask the nurses to offer you medicine,” I said the last time we met while he was yelling at me. “You don’t have to take it, but I think it will help.”

And, for whatever personal reasons he had, he took it. (The manner and skills of the nurses undoubtedly helped with this, though it appears that persuasion of any form was unnecessary.)

“Do you have any other questions for me before I go?” I asked. Last time, I simply told him that I was leaving. First, do no harm.

“No,” he said, smiling. “Thank you for talking with me. I hope you have a nice day.” He waved.

“Thank you,” I said, waving back.

Wondrous!

Categories
Medicine Nonfiction Reflection

Assuming Intentions from Behaviors.

The fear first appeared in his eyes, then washed over his entire face.

“Hey, how did you do that?” His voice grew louder. “You’re supposed to help me! How did you tell the voices what to say?”

I realized that this was not going to end well.

“The voices in my head are now saying that there are robots in my brain!” he shouted. “That’s illegal! You’re not allowed to do that!”

“I have no ability to put voices in your head or anyone else’s head.”

“But you did! Before you told me about what I supposedly said the other day”—he had told my colleague that there were robots in his brain—“the voices never talked about robots. YOU did this!”

“I did not.”

“You did!” He looked around, frantic. “HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME! THIS NURSE IS PUTTING VOICES INTO MY HEAD!”

My heart sank further. Many people who experience auditory hallucinations learn to avoid sharing this with others. This man did not realize how others would dismiss his suffering.

“I’m going to go.”

“NO! You can’t go! You’re doing something illegal!” He saw an officer approach. “GUARD! GUARD! This nurse is doing something illegal! She’s putting voices in my head!”

Though he has worked on the unit for years, I suspect that he had some innate skills in talking with people who were overwhelmed.

“Hey, you don’t need to yell, I’m right here. She’s trying to help you….”

He managed to shout, “HEY, COME BACK HERE, YOU NEED TO STAY!” as I slipped away, but he stopped yelling before I was out of earshot. The officer later told me the man demanded that I call his parents to tell them that I was putting voices in his head.


There’s no way this could ever happen to you, right?

But aren’t there times when we believe that someone did something to us… except they didn’t?

Like those times when we say, “She makes me so mad!”

Or, “He’s trying to make me jealous.”

We assume intention from behaviors. Sometimes our assumptions are correct, but not always. We feel whatever emotions we feel, but that does not always mean that somebody else is responsible for our emotions.

“But, Maria,” you might retort, “there’s a big difference between hearing voices and feeling emotions. We all feel emotions. Only sick people hear voices.”

… except there’s data[1. Prevalence of auditory verbal hallucinations in a general population: A group comparison study and A comprehensive review of auditory verbal hallucinations: lifetime prevalence, correlates and mechanisms in healthy and clinical individuals.] that suggests that anywhere between 5% and 28% of the general population hears voices. They are your coworkers, friends, members of your family, people you routinely see in your community.

And even if we don’t hear voices, our running internal dialogue—while not “voices”, per se, but “thoughts”—can transform an event into something else that never actually happened.


I felt sad as I was walking away from this man. First, do no harm. Our conversation went sideways and caused him distress. I replayed the interaction in my mind—my own internal dialogue was loud—and recognized several points where I could have taken a different approach. The outcome still may have been the same.

The truth remains, though: I did not put voices into his head. I don’t know how to do that. My hope is that he will recognize and accept that in time.


Categories
Nonfiction Reflection Seattle

What Makes America Great.

After a long gaze at the different fonts and bright colors, my father, a Chinese man in his 70s, concluded in English, “The menu is different.”

“Yes, it’s new. Today is the first day,” replied the clerk, a Latina woman in her 40s. Standing next to her was a young Latina woman, perhaps not yet 20 years old.

It used to be K5,” my father murmured in Chinese.

Do you want what you usually get?” I responded in Chinese.

Though my father has an excellent grasp of English, the new orientation and colors of the fluorescent menu perplexed him.

Yes….

Chicken legs, right? You want K1.”

My dad found K1, too, and nodded with approval. He directed his attention to the cashier.

“Can I please have K1?” he asked.

The older woman nudged the younger woman to show her how to enter this order. “Ask if he wants original or extra crispy,” she advised in English.

“Original or extra crispy?” the young lady parroted.

“Original,” my dad said. The older woman then began to give instructions to the young woman in Spanish.

“It’s her first day here,” the older woman offered. The young woman smiled sheepishly; we all smiled back at her. No big deal.

And so it went: Spanish behind the counter, Chinese in front of the counter, with English connecting the two sides, and people helping people in all directions.

This is what makes America great.

Categories
Education Nonfiction Reading

Books I Read in 2018.

I know this post is late (i.e., “These are the things I did in 2018” posts usually appear in December), but perhaps some of the books I read in 2018 will make it onto your reading list for 2019.

Radical Dharma: Talking Race, Love, and Liberation. I didn’t know what to expect when I picked up this book. Because the authors are people of color, they bring a different perspective to Buddhist thought and practice. In some ways, this was a refreshing change from much of published the Buddhist literature (i.e., written by white authors, or written by Asian authors who seem to have a white audience in mind). The authors also share personal anecdotes about their journey in Buddhism that may resonate with readers of color.

The Nonviolence Handbook: A Guide for Practical Action. This was the most compelling book I read in 2018. This slim book offers both concrete suggestions about how to practice nonviolence in daily living and how individuals (often Gandhi) applied nonviolence principles in history. I found this book inspiring, challenging, and meaningful. It also reminded me that I should not take cooperation for granted.

On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century. This book is definitely a “handbook”: It is small and to the point. The table of contents alone provide useful guidance on what we all can do every single day to support our democratic society. I appreciated that the book does not rely on fear alone; it empowers the reader to take action in the face of uncertainty.

Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance. This book pairs well with the next book (Hillbilly Elegy). Obama’s writing reveals a thoughtful and idealistic perspective. He wrote this years before he served as President and I found myself recognizing elements of his character as President in this book. It is a story of a man trying to learn about himself and his beliefs in a world that passes judgment on him because of his heritage and skin color. It also highlights the importance of his relationship with his mother.

Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis. I read this after Dreams from My Father and, in many ways, I felt like I was reading the same tale with different details. Vance also tells the story of his efforts to learn about himself and his beliefs in a world that passes judgment on him because of where he was born and raised. Vance, too, highlights the importance of his relationship with his grandmother. Because Vance and Obama have different political ideologies, these two books show how, despite our beliefs, we share more in common than we allow ourselves to believe.

Silence: The Mystery of Wholeness. I picked up this book with hopes of learning more about how to find or create silence in a world that seems full of sonic garbage. This was the most “woo woo” book I read all year. I often wrote question marks in the margins. I intend to re-read this book at some point; I may always find it esoteric. I found the ideas of different silences (e.g., the silence within our hearts versus the “big” silence of the universe; how silence is always with us) useful for my own application.

The Girl on the Train. I rarely read fiction, so this was a treat. I picked this up on a public bookshelf for airplane reading. The story was engrossing, though I couldn’t help but think about the lack of coping skills the characters demonstrated. I also discerned the identity of the villain early on, so the “twist” not surprise me. The book nonetheless makes for fine brain candy.

Falling Leaves: The Memoir of an Unwanted Chinese Daughter. This book was also a selection for airplane reading. The intercultural issues of the memoir are familiar to me and the storytelling is satisfactory. This memoir seemed to lack the depth of self-reflection as seen in the Obama and Vance memoirs. I wanted to learn more about how she grew and understood herself as an individual as a result of her experiences with her stepmother.

Silence: The Power of Quiet in a World Full of Noise. This was yet another effort to apply more silence in my life. This text is similar to other works by Thich Nhat Hanh, though does comment more on cultivating silence within (which, in some ways, paired nicely with the Sardello book above on silence). Did I learn anything new? No. Did it nonetheless bring me comfort? Yes. This book was another reminder to me that we often have to generate our own silence, particularly when there is a lot of noise “outside” that we cannot control.

Trauma Stewardship: An Everyday Guide to Caring for Self While Caring for Others. I read this in anticipation of a talk from the author, Laura van Dernoot Lipsky. Many of the examples in her book come from her previous clinical work in Seattle, so the book felt particularly familiar. The book offers validation to all of us who work in clinical settings. I was hoping for more commentary on how we can adjust or shift systems to better support people who work in human services; the book focuses chiefly on what the individual can do. I also hoped that the book would offer a more evidence-based framework for these individual interventions, though also appreciate that there are spiritual aspects of trauma work that are difficult to measure. Laura is a compelling and energetic speaker. You can watch her TED talk.

Extreme Government Makeover: Increasing Our Capacity to Do More Good. I received this book from a colleague, who received it from the author for free! (My colleague and I both work in local government and when she asked him if he could provide the books at a discount for the staff, he sent a stack of books to us at no charge.) The major premise of the book is the reduction of waste: Reducing the amount of time between tasks (much of which is waiting, with no action happening); eliminating bottlenecks (e.g., where only one person is the “decider”); and minimizing processes that only serve to prevent lawsuits. I suspect that selection bias is at play, though: The people who choose to read this book are probably already aware of how to make things more efficient.

Here are all the books I started in 2018, but did not finish:

A People’s History of the United States. I’m actually over halfway through this book. I found myself getting angry while reading it, though, given the current context of the federal administration in the United States. Some of the events described in the book were similar to the ideas coming out of the current White House. I like reading and don’t need to experience more anger than necessary. I do want to finish this book, just not now.

The Making of Asian America: A History. I found myself getting angry while reading this one, too, so I put this one down. I like that the author discusses the experiences and events of different Asian groups, as, indeed, Asians are not all the same. I will get back to this one, too.

The Art of Memoir. I want to write a book, and that book is a memoir. Writing is already difficult, but the writing for this memoir presents particular challenges. I hope to learn from the mistakes and experiences of others. However, reading about memoir writing takes time away from actual memoir writing. Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking we need to learn from others when, in fact, we just need to do the work.

The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are. I had never read a book by Brene Brown, though I enjoyed listening to Krista Tippett interview her on the podcast On Being. The book is like a personal cheerleader, which is fine, though that’s not what I needed or wanted.

Good Prose: The Art of Nonfiction. I enjoy reading good sentences. I continue to strive to craft clear, meaningful sentences because I want to write stellar stories. As I noted above, though, sometimes we just need to do the work.

Chinese Culture and Mental Health. While Western psychiatry is getting better at acknowledging the role of culture in the manifestation of thoughts, emotions, and behaviors, it still ain’t great. This book is an academic textbook, so while it is informative, it isn’t the most exciting reading. I will finish this one, too, though it may take a while.

How to Measure Anything: Finding the Value of Intangibles in Business. I picked this up primarily to help me think about my clinical and administrative work in a different way. I have already learned interesting perspectives about measuring seemingly immeasurable things in the first quarter of the book. This book requires a level of concentration that I often did not have by the end of the day. This is a book I want to finish, but it will take time.

If you want to share with me what books have changed your life for the better or made you think about the world in a different way, let me know (e-mail, Twitter, Facebook).