spotlights poem welcome story

The
Synapse
ISSUE 1 DECEMBER, 2014
WELCOME
The Department of Humanities in Medicine is pleased to present the first issue of
The Synapse, a student-edited newsletter containing poetry, art, literature, and
photography. The Synapse is a creative outlet open to submissions from the Texas
A&M College of Medicine community. Its mission is to serve as a forum where
students can creatively blend the scientific and humanistic aspects of medicine.
SPOTLIGHTS
STORY
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are
about to begin our descent. At this
time, please turn off all electronic
devices and make sure that all carryon luggage is stowed underneath
the seat in front of you or in the
overhead bins. Please return your
seat backs and tray tables to their
full upright positions and remain
seated with your seat belts securely
fastened until we have arrived at
the gate. Thank you.”
ment was punctuated by a sudden,
lurching drop that left my stomach
at 10,000 feet while the rest of my
body careened toward Earth. I hate turbulence; I hate the way
the rapid pressure change makes
my ears ache and clog. But this
time, instead of that imaginary
cotton being shoved painfully into
my ear canals, I heard a soft, shrill,
ceaseless ringing. Pearls of sweat
bubbled up on my brow, and the
jet stream of gusting air from the
overhead vent washed over me until I felt cold and clammy. Without
warning, the plane rocked sideways
twice and then rolled. This was it:
my final descent. The flight attendant’s announce-
Continued online see next page
silently battled a fight which has
chosen her
Her life, a tapestry perpetually
wrinkled, clung helplessly to a wall
frothed with hand prints
An army of greasy children released
into a museum hall…she watches
the world touch, tumble
Knock over, “You’re crazy ma’am”
“I can’t do that ma’am”
“Your mom is weird,” as the kids
climb the gilded upholstery with
mud-caked Sunday shoes
I understand her illness
But know this, world: It is not a
choice. I declare this woman
a warrior, an ambassador for the
“psych” patient forever shackled to
a hidden white padded room.
“UNBALANCED”
BY: THOMAS MAGLIARO, MSII
ABOVE: The COM Class of 2017 held their Annual Multicultural Potluck Dinner earlier this month.
Attendees filled the table with dishes representative of their diverse heritages. From mouthwatering curries to American delicacies like microwaveable pizza and apple pie, the night was stuffed
with lots of food, laughter, and fun.
POEM
“DOUBLE CHECK”
BY: KRYSTHA CANTU, MSII
Four o’clock in the afternoon and
her hair was Medusa-like
The floors spotless, a bleachy tang
hung in the air for hours
After all the scrubbing and the
washing and the folding the house
was flawed – A stubborn mansion
of dust fibers
dead spiders that hoarded every
dirt particle
In her eyes we were trapped by
all of its imperfections…though
gleaming to the neighbors
“Double check” was the phrase that
sprouted in between every task,
every conversation
Was peppered by long pauses of
money counting, and recounting
Stares from across the makeup
counter…did she need to see all the
lipsticks in Jetset Magenta
Before deciding on the box with no
bent corners
But oh, was she bent with a disease
that tormented her inside much like
an intestine…herniated…
trapped and squeezed through the
wall of a society that never understood her quest for perfection
A silent pooling of perfectly maroon
blood growing on the inside
No medications that might make
her lose control…a vicious cycle of
tears
Of “Don’t touch that I just cleaned”
“Don’t use that bathroom”
Laughter, ridicules from the other
aunt, that cashier who never understood that mental illness was like a
large tumor tumbling, growing,
gnawing through my mother,
uncontrolled
A dictator of her posture, her
hands…cracked and dry from the
soap that became smaller and
smaller
It disappeared at the end of the
week from her scrubbing…just
like the collective patience of the
outside
world that didn’t see her scars, her
illness, a silent yet roaring metaphor
for mental disease…the sly
chameleon of torments…changing
colors on the inside, undetected,
unrecognized. “A choice” they said
under their breaths
No.
I watched for years as my mother
disappeared into her origami-like
madness
A delicate paper sandwich of calculated folds and cuts
A crane that hung gracefully
amongst the real birds that flew and
sang unbothered by water or sand
My mother is a warrior who has
There are others in stilettos, with
staplers, Ziplocs of coupons, endless
neon stickie notes, tangled in the
sharp coppery wires of perfection…
a telephone cord that
won’t hang down in a straight
line… a scorched sink filled with
stained shirts and anger…
an invisible
cloud of self-loathing…a mother
who tilts delicately in and out of the
whirlpool of madness
Scrubbing her life till it
fades...
ANYBODY THERE?
Is anybody there?
I’ve been stuck a while.
Please don’t see this frown
And think that it’s a smile.
POEM & ILLUSTRATION BY ANAND JAYANTI, MSI
STORY
“DEALING WITH LIFE:
CASHING OUT WITH MY
MENTAL HEALTH”
A FICTITIOUS STORY BY: ANONYMOUS
Dear members of the fledgling
medical community,
The flop looks good from my
vantage point, as I stand at an
unremarkable 2-seat distance from
the Vegas style dealer. Behind the
impenetrable shield of a cool, onyxglazed set of Ray-Bans, I reach over
and shuffle my chips, emulating the
pros who so valiantly fight toward
the top of “greenback” mountain.
Each has his reasons for occupying
his pre-ordained seat, might I say
even more comfortably than any
one person with an intact mental
psyche might appreciate. Take it
from me—I’ve got experience,
maybe a heightened experience,
but I will delve into that at the appointed time. Might I also point out
that you need not worry. I’m not going to point out any theological connections to the before mentioned
statement entailing providential
placement, but instead, I would just
like to emphasize the moot point
with which the casino randomly
places you in a pool of poker sharks
sizing up a very sizeable population
of prey. I am here in the midst of a
constellation of people; ethnically,
socially, I must also include morally,
and most importantly in my eyes,
I highlight their capacity for one
small factor that is easily overlooked
by the less observant of men. At this
point, two games are being played
simultaneously at this table: one is
called Vegas Rules Texas Hold-em
poker, and the other is a bit more
mental and involves a one-on-one
battle with myself. With brief key
words including agoraphobia,
avoidance, and an inclination to call
upon my trusty friend “Purel,” my
dear friends, I leave you with tools
that would be considered “elementary” in this Holmesian mystery
coursing through the veins of this
more or less subjective account of
events.
My dear Watsons, might I include
Mr. and Ms. for the sake of completeness? Has your mental hound
tracked down the scent emanating
from the core of this tale? I’m sure
that is a question of little value,
because I see that your capacity for
deductive evaluation is assuredly
superb. As you can see, in spite of
my capacity for unrequited patience,
my ability to calculate table odds,
and my knack to read the everminute cues that evaporate off the
members surrounding my round
table of “rag tag gamblers,” I am
more preoccupied with a feedback
loop of evaluating the cleanliKeep a look out for an application to join our team
ness of my current bubble and the
next semester. For any inquiries, contact Shivani Desai
observed appearances of those who
at [email protected].
sit around me. With focus and determination, I sweat, holding the best
hand. I still open up my pores and
dump upon my clammy skin, the
embodiment of my obsessions in
the form of physical matter. I would
call this multitasking if I could, being
able to play a game of poker at a
genetics, past traumas, occupational
final table tournament while holdable moments of members who are
exposures, and so forth that have
ing at bay the inner mental demons
going ALL-IN everyday, seeking to
proved to be milestones in the lives
that haunt the outside of my mental of fellow members of our world
cash out with the foundational prize
castle. I know that this would be a
of mental health in hand. As you
community. In short, they have
perverted and distorted attempt to
may have come to the conclusion, I
been dealt a particular hand, and
define such a term. Next, the turn
suffer from a very advanced form of
with your help, you can help their
snaps out of the dealer’s hand like
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The
hand change into the “Nuts.” But at
a ninja-star, and my fate is sealed.
school teacher I mentioned rides
this moment, I send out a plea on
All I can think about is my next
the roller coaster of Bipolar Disorder,
behalf of the amorphous faces of
appointment with my psychiatrist,
and that migrant worker recently
those who suffer with psychosis, to
psychologist, my eroding relationlost his way out of the catacombs of
generate energy on behalf of your
ships, and the surreal nature of
Major Depressive Disorder. I bring
young minds to solve the stagnant
what life has become for me. I look
to you today a short vignette of our
nature that has become the mental
around at the faces that sit with Cal
meling All M1s!
hopes and dreams, our skills and
health system. I make a confession
in moment: I play this game for
at the table. They each stare Are
backyouatinterested
hobbies, but most importantly, our
at the
becomiseeng a member
of Unabashedly, I am proficient plea to reach a state of wellness
me, and I am counting on them
money.
Synapse's Editori
Board?
ing my sweat as a form ofThe
weakness.
in the community that affirms our
atal the
aforementioned skills that
a look out for an application
In poker terms, I have a handKeep
worth and integrity.
highlighted above, but I seek to
totermed
join our team next Isemester.
the “Nuts,” a hand that with 100%
gather this money for one purpose
I leave this with you my dear friends:
certainty will win this little skirmish
and one purpose only. Continue
I use my earnings, whatever small
among the remaining players seekwith me on this journey, and you
they may be, for health. Addressing
ing to carry the pot home. I look
may find out what that purpose is.
the elephant in the room and simulup at the ceiling and notice a light,
taneously under the rug, the price
The dealer sets out the river, the
the warm and sunny sense that
of insurance for mental health visits,
last
card
in
the
community
pile,
and
emanates from it brings me a glance
the frequency of visits amounting
it drops like a feather to the felt of
of hope,
to large debts in co-pays, and the
the table. I
not for
shopping around for physicians
see
my
last
my hand,
It’s so very easy to remember opponent
that treat your mind, body, and
but
the significant stigma that stalks in the hand spirit is exhausting. It is here that I
instead,
make my stand. I ask you to aid our
smack his
any mention of the words:
for my
community in forging a system with
lips,
and
his
state of
mental health
eyes light up easier access to mental health care,
wellness.
like sparklers to assure that there is a communicaPersonally, it’s so very easy to
tive process between psychiatrists
on the 4th of July—not those cheap
remember the significant stigma
and psychologists, and to seek to
ones, but instead the expense prodthat stalks any mention of the
reform access to forms of nonucts that burn every color imaginwords “mental health,” and as a
pharmacologic therapy that I may
able in alternating sequences. With
community member facing such an
be covered more widely under an
this, I know I have him hooked,
elusive camp of illnesses, I note that
affordable insurance program. Can
and I push ALL-IN. With a snap call
my battle is surely uphill. I provide
you meet me ALL-IN? I promise you
from the antagonist directly across
insight to you, my dear Watsons,
in this game, we both will double up
from me, we are at a stand still, and
because I would impart upon you
every time.
within a one second movement,
an endeavor to seek out the lawyer,
we both will slowly turn over our
Respectfully,
school teacher, migrant worker, and
pocketed two cards. I win of course,
Your dear friend who is going
the ever-changing face of those
I already knew that, and I guess
ALL-IN
who daily face the incubus knocking you did too. But, this is where the
at the poorly secured door to their
song changes, the scene fades, and
brain. The security of this door may
we are all together in viewing and
have been compromised due to
participating in the most vulnerFor any inquires, contact Shivani Desai at [email protected].
“
CALENDAR
Dec. 1st: Synapse Debut & CMA General Meeting
Dec. 2nd: Traumatic Brain Injury Interest Group Meeting
Dec. 3rd: Skills for Medical School Presentation by Dr. Hairell CS & FMIG
Dec. 4th: Introduction to 3rd Year Campus Designation
Dec. 8th: Future Physicians Executive Meeting
Dec. 10th: M2 Final Renal Examination & M2 Mix and Mingle Luncheon &
Skills for Medical School Presentation by Dr. Hairell TEMPLE
Dec. 11th: Hammond-Oliver High School Tour
Dec. 12th: M1 CPM II Exam 3 & M2 Medical Student Grand Rounds
Dec. 15th: Dallas M2 Preview Day
Dec. 17th: M2 NBME Exam
Dec. 18th: M1 NBME Exam & Winter Break Starts!
Jan. 5th: Classes start for M1s & M2s
Jan.15th: DEADLINE FOR SUBMISSIONS FOR NEXT NEWSLETTER
”
THE SYNAPSE
EDITORIAL BOARD
Chairman of the Editorial Board: Jessica Meyer
Managing Editors: Jeannie Nguyen & Whitney Hall
Copy Editors: Chanel Tran, Thomas Magliaro, & Alba Lara
Acquisition Editors: Anisha Hadimohd & Shivani Desai
Design Editor: Grace Lassiter
Members: Ebunoluwa Babalola, Krystha Cantu, & Anand Jayanti
Special thank you to Mary Elizabeth Herring for all the support
Thank You to our
Faculty Mentors:
Karen Wakefield,
James Stramaski,
Gul Russell, &
Barbara Gastel
ADDITIONAL
CONTENT ONLINE
http://medicine.tamhsc.edu/
him/synapse.html
NEWS
BRAD BEVOLO, JACOB HOSTLER, KYLE CARTER
ENGINEERING: A FUN WAY TO LEARN
BORING SUBJECTS
The Texas A&M College of Engineering has partnered with the Texas A&M
family medicine residency at DeTar Hospital in Victoria to teach residents a
somewhat boring subject—how to submit the correct codes to insurance
companies to get paid for teaching diet and exercise to patients—using
something students usually do for fun: play video games. Three engineering
students—Brad Bevolo, Jacob Hostler, and Kyle Carter—are designing the
software that could entice overworked residents into mastering concepts
that typically are not engaging, and are also unfamiliar to currently practicing physician faculty: new diet and exercise interventions and management
of a prevention-based practice that is sustainable financially. Drs. Bruce
Gooch and Magadalini Lagoudas from the College of Engineering and Dr.
Sidney Ontai from the College of Medicine are providing faculty guidance.
CONTINUED STORY:
“UNBALANCED”
BY: THOMAS MAGLIARO, MSII
My stomach caught up to my body
just in time for our most recent
aerial maneuver, and the wave
of nausea that came with it sent
me scrambling for the airsick bag.
Desperately, I searched around me
for the panicked faces of other disoriented passengers. Much to my
surprise, every single face remained
serenely forward, as though the
entire plane had instantaneously
achieved a Zen-like tranquility in
the face of our impending doom.
Was it only me? Had I finally lost my
mind?
By the time I got to the car, I managed to collect myself. Thankful
to be alive—and still completely
terrified by what had happened—I
called my mother to let her know
what I’d just been through. There
were two rings and then nothing. I
hung up the phone and tried again,
but it was dead. Was the proximity
to the airport interfering with the
signal? I dropped my phone on the
passenger seat, and it began ringing in free-fall.
“Why did you hang up on me?”
“The phone went dead.”
“No, it didn’t. I was talking.”
“You might have been talking,
but the line was dead. Anyway,
it doesn’t matter.” My mother
listened intently as I recounted the
dizzying descent and then told
her I’d see her at home soon. I
switched on the radio, hoping the
mindless lyrics of some fleeting
teen icon would distract me from
my thoughts, but in my left ear
there was only a total and terrifying
silence.
The doctor’s office was so quiet it
hurt. My hearing had come back,
but the ringing was right there with
it. After we spoke for a few minutes,
the doctor explained that she was
worried about the tinnitus and the
vertigo that I’d been experiencing.
There was talk of future consultations with other specialists— cardiology, neurology, I’m fairly sure
there was even a brief mention of
priests and shamans—depending
on the results of some diagnostic
examinations.
She sent me next door to the imaging office for an immediate CT scan.
As I walked in the room, all I could
think about was how the table
was impossibly narrow. I couldn’t
believe they expected me to sit
still while I was so precipitously
close to falling off either side of the
machine. But they managed to get
what they needed and sent me on
my way. The doctor said she’d be in
touch as soon as she had the results.
Throughout each of the next three
sanity-rending days, I checked my
email five times an hour. I couldn’t
walk anywhere without pulling out
my phone every other step, just in
case something had come through
while I wasn’t looking. Each time I
looked, there was always nothing.
“We need you to come back in. Are
you free this afternoon? There was
something abnormal on your CT,
and we’d like to do an MRI to get a
better look.”
“What did you see?”
“There was something unusual with
your auditory canals. We just want
to be sure that you don’t have an
acoustic neuroma.”
LANCE ROBINSON, YEN LIN, DREW ROBINSON
AGGIES INVENT
In an effort to encourage innovation, creativity, entrepreneurship, and
multidisciplinary team building, Texas A&M University Engineering and the
College of Medicine recently collaborated on a project entitled Aggies Invent: a 48-hour event held at the Engineering Innovation Center (EIC). Lance
Robinson, Yen Lin, and Drew Robinson (all COM 2017) were among the
75 students selected from a pool of applicants to tackle need statements
presented by various first responders.
Students were given direct access to the facilities and tools provided by
Rodney Boehm and the rest of the engineering program. Brainstorming began Friday night, followed by construction on Saturday morning. With the
guidance of mentors, teams competed to produce functional prototypes of
their product delivered in the form of 10-minute presentations in front of
judges and audience members, and streamed live on YouTube.
The judges were so impressed by the presentations that they altered the
award structure to reward each participating team with a $100 prize. In addition to prize money, Dick Lester, Executive Director of The Center for New
Ventures and Entrepreneurship at Mays Business School, presented the top
three teams with a promised workspace at Startup Aggieland—a program
designed to help Aggies get their businesses off the ground.
ART
“Giant Egret,”
Susan Michaelson, MLIS,
Temple Campus
“YOU THINK I HAVE CANCER?”
“It may not be. We just want to be
sure before we can decide what
to do next. It might explain your
symptoms.”
“I’ll see you this afternoon.”
I’d say the inside of an MRI machine
is a very cold and lonely place, but
that wouldn’t be entirely accurate.
In the moments when the gadolinium contrast injection courses
through your blood vessels like a
rush of liquid winter, sending chills
up your arm and down your spine,
someone is there in the room with
you administering the torture.
But once they finish, they slide
you inside a tube so tight that it
threatens to take your arms off at
the shoulders as you enter; a tube
so oppressively close to your face
that it might shave your nose off as
you leave. After that, they leave you
there by yourself with the ghosts
of internet searches gone horribly
wrong and all of the doubts and
fears that have built up during the
diagnostic process come with their
tiny hammers to knock incessantly
on your skull. If I were being more
precise, I’d say that the inside of an
MRI machine is a very cold and then
lonely place.
“You’re just unbalanced.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say
to someone.”
“Normal anatomical variation that
was likely affected by sinus pressure
from seasonal allergies and the
pressure change during the flight.”
“So it’s not cancer?”
“Not cancer. Take your allergy
medication, and use warm compresses if it flares up, but you should
be fine.”
“That’s fantastic! I always knew
there was something a little off with
me, and now I guess I know what it
is. There’s nothing worse than not
knowing.”