My schedule in high school didn’t really allow for this, so I assumed that these “experiences” were part of some sort of maladjustment to university life, or maybe just plain laziness after pushing myself so hard during high school.

Only, recently it became more and more unmanageable. I would sleep for at least eight hours a day and then take an afternoon nap of two to four hours. And still be able to sleep that night.

I struggled to concentrate and felt my brain had shrunk. I had uncontrollable food cravings.

About a month ago, I decided that it couldn’t all be attributed to mood (more about that later) and asked my doctor to run a work-up. For the first time, after complaining of exhaustion for more than five years, somebody drew my blood.

Result? Raised TSH, consistent with subclinical hypotenstion. Low Ferritin.

So I have now been on some lovely meds for about three weeks and have not progressed nearly as well as I had hoped – but, because I know how these things work, I try to be patient. Yesterday morning I woke up, by myself, after six hours of sleep.

It was wonderful.

And terrible.

I realised that it will take more than medication to get me out of an entrenched routine. Because, no kidding, I’ve grown to love sleeping all. the. time.

And my food cravings introduced me to delicious food.

So, dear crazy Thyroid: I would say nice to meet you, but it isn’t, really. At least you still exist.

Now to get back to business:

The theme for this week’s photo challenge from The Daily Post is “down”. On weekends, I am lucky to be on the sixteenth floor right next to the ocean. I stare at the changing ocean and of course, at Table Mountain, most of the time. So perhaps it is important to look down sometimes, too. To remember where we are grounded.

I am also a bit clumsy. The Boy reminds me that I must be on the lookout for his feet so that I don’t step on his only favourite sandals. There they are!

Recently, one of his colleagues mentioned something genius in its simplicity:

There has been a big push to computerise the administration of hospital wards – and with good reason. Even in rural South African hospitals, there are several large mobile computers (we call them COWs – computers on wheels) to be found in wards.

So, what does a computer consist of? A screen, sure, some network cables… and a central processing unit with a motherboard, which generates heat. Lots of heat.

Because of that, it also has a fan. And this fan draws air inwards to cool the CPU down.

I have a point, stay with me here:

Hospitals, as we know, are full of sick people. Obviously. And by far the greatest percentage of those are infectious diseases. And where do most of those pathogens thrive (apart from inside humans)?

In nice warm environments.

In the normal office, this is not such a problem. But in a hospital, where many different pathogens congregate, creating such a comfortable environment for bacteria is nothing short of ludicrous.

It would be interesting if sombeody did some sort of study on this. I’m sure someone in my dad’s department will, in due time. I know for sure that I don’t want to expose my patients (especially not the immuno-compromised ones) to such an onslaught.

I know that in more privileged countries, tablets are becoming the new best way for digital solutions in hospital.

Could this perhaps be the safest way out?

This week, The Broke and the Bookish asks which books we would save if the house was being abducted by aliens, or on fire, or something similarly horrible.

I’m a sentimental person, but I hate hoarding. So I do not, as a rule, own books that are simply reading books.

All of the choices bare some sentimental history (and often they’re just plain expensive!).

PostSecret by Frank Warren: I have professed my love for PostSecret so much, I should get royalties. I will definitely save this book.

Life and Soul by Karina Turok: It’s about wonderful South African women and I bought it with school prizegiving money – sentiment right there.

28 Stories of AIDS in Africa: A gift from my mom and the reason I came to med school.

Romantic Charm of Unique Mountains at Zhangjiajie by Zhou Mingfa: reminiscent of my wonderful trip to China and absolutely beautiful photographs. Also, it is a signed copy.

Baofeng Lake at Zhanjiajie. The photos in the book are even better.

A Century of Sundays: an expensive book bought with my first ever waitressing earnings. I hated waitressing. It is a lovely South African book with lots of history (my other love).

The Roald Dahl Treasury: I really wanted this for Christmas and my parents and siblings got it for me without being asked (maybe they read my blog). Dahl has played a significant role in my life. And it is colour-illustrated.

English Alive Anthologies 2004-2011: published by the South African Council for English Education annually, I always look forward to the excellent poetry and prose written by South African high school learners. My own work was published in the 2006, 2007 and 2008 editions.

Mark Twain Collected Tales, Sketches, Speeches & Essays 1891-1910: this book was given to me by Steve and Jackie from Youth Journalism International during my visit to them in 2010. They took me on lovely trips through West-Hartford, Connecticut – and to Mark Twain’s house. They also wrote messages in the book, which is irreplacable.

Matric Book: at the end of high school, I bought a beautifully-bound notebook in which my friends and teachers wrote. These messages are genuine and remind me of who I am and what I can achieve. These people believe in me. When I feel down and uninspired, this notebook is the cure.

Oxford Handbook of Clinical Medicine: an absolute necessity and very expensive in ZA (I had to apply for a book bursary to afford it). C’mon, you didn’t expect me not to have a medical book in there somewhere did you?

Bird flu kills more than 50% of all people it infects. The reason it hasn’t caused mass annihilation thus far is because it is not transmissable from human to human.

But this new strain is.

Sometimes we do something just to prove that it can be done.

Sometimes we do something for the greater good. These scientists claim that their research can assist in manufacturing a vaccine. Can it? Probably.

Two things are scary here:

1. The fear of bioterrorism
2. The fear of forced population control

I have no doubt these scientists are brilliant, but is it really in the globe’s best interest to design this thing?

What do you think?

This patient came for help herself – something I though was a good sign. Her affect was blunted and she was clearly depressed. There was a positive history too.

Nevertheless, I initially assessed her as low-risk. She wanted a referral to a psychiatrist and I was happy to give it to her.

Realising that I have not yet done a practical psychiatry rotation, I asked a senior student for a consult. Good thing too. He assessed her as high-risk. I had forgotten to ask about death ideation and suicidal ideation.

Things I learnt?

1. Know when you don’t know;

2. Brush up on psych;

3. There is a reason they make us study for centuries.

During one of these tutorials, the doctor in charge made us close our books and asked us about our approaches to the full waiting room and the possibly accute patient.

We answered well.

She told us we had good seventh senses. The seventh sense? Common sense.

Then she said: “Going by your answers, you are pretty much safe to go work in a clinic.”

We just sat and stared at her. Eventually we realised, “This woman has just complimented us. She just called us almost-doctors.”

I wish someone could take an f-MRI of our brains at the time. I bet you it would be alight and a-buzz and happy.

This doctor probably gave us enough motivation for the rest of the year. Why can’t they all be that nice?

As a rule, I do not review non-medical books on this blog, unless it forms part of a Top Ten Tuesday. However, since my recent discovery of the myriad of book blogs, Goodreads and the ability to read while maintaining my schedule has led to me rather bravely attempting a bookish challenge, I have decided to blog about those books.

For the category of Science and Natural History I read The Brain that Changes itself by Norman Doidge. Thanks to SolitaryDiner for the recommendation.

In biology we learn that skin heals, bone forms calluses until it is almost as good as new, and half a liver can soon be a whole new liver. But the brain? The brain doesn’t heal. You break your brain and it stays broken. Even more than healing, the brain doesn’t change. Once you’re all grown up, the grey matter you have is the grey matter you are stuck with until that, too, starts to degenerate.

It is exactly these teachings of popular science that Doidge challenges in his book – a scientific work of literature that reads like a novel.

Doidge travels the world to meet with patients, scientists and doctors who have shown that the brain can – and does – change. And not just after injury; it does so constantly.

In The Brain That Changes Itself we read of learning to balance after damaging the vestibular system, about learning to live again after substantial damage due to a cerebrovascular accident. It tells the story of people who learn to literally “grow” out of their Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and depression. We even meet a young woman who has lived her life with only half a brain – her right hemisphere effectively doing the work that her left hemisphere would have done.

The view of the brain as a machine – fast, efficient, but unchanging – is chiseled down, revealing a malleable brain. A brain that isn’t only formed up to adolescence, but long thereafter.

The Brain that Changes Itself reads easily, has not too much medical jargon and not too many statistics, but I am unsure how much stimulation it would offer to the layperson. Even I, having studied neurosciences (at undergraduate medical level) sometimes felt that the book was slightly above me.

Note that some may be sensitive to the descriptions of animal testing in the book – but it perhaps offers a fairly good view of why animal testing is not all fire and brimstone.

It took me a while to get through the book because it was intellectually taxing and I felt the need to think and research after each chapter. It was well worth it and I wish I had read this during my neurosciences rotation last year. I feel that I will be a better doctor having read this.

“We love being in love not only because it makes us happy but also because it makes it harder for us to be unhappy.”

Norman Doidge, The Brain that Changes Itself

Okay, this I know.

But now what? Antibiotics make patients feel better. A frequent sufferer of sinusitis, I know this. So now my patients walk away from a consultation feeling that their doctor doesn’t care about their suffering. I don’t see many doctors being happy with that.

Secondly, complications of untreated bacterial sinusitis are sever. Think meningitis, abscess formation, cellulitis. What if that happens because I didn’t prescribe antibiotics?

The logical solution seems to be taking a swab. But state healthcare simply cannot afford to process a swab for every sinus infection. Even my own medical aid can’t afford that.

So I ask again: NOW WHAT?

So after killing the buzz for the past few days, I though I should provide some entertainment. Because really, who said latex can’t be good clean fun? Unless you’re allergic of course, but let’s not overcomplicate things.

The best condom-fad is not colour or taste, but fashion apparel. They are unused, obviously, and there are now regular condom fashion shows. Would I wear it? I doubt it. But it is a funky way to create awareness.