Hiatus

6 09 2011

I suppose this was inevitable, but as much as I love writing in this blog, I feel that it is no longer as rewarding for me as it used to be.  It currently feels more like an obligation than an opportunity, and as such, I am going on hiatus, in hopes of trying to preserve whatever quality this blog had, and in hopes of not writing until I feel inspired and motivated to do so.  I also haven’t quite figured out how I will navigate blogging about patient stories while maintaining respect and privacy, so perhaps it’s best to wait before I blog again.

Anyway, here’s to focusing on living life fully right now, and perhaps writing about it later.





The Power (& Responsibility) of Idea-Sharers

25 04 2011

The cartoon above is by David Horsey, from the Seattle Post-Intelligencer.

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“An idea is like a virus: resilient, highly contagious.  The smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define, or destroy you.”
Inception (2010)

It is worth mentioning, again, that vaccines have been scientifically proven over and over to not be a cause of autism.  I mention this here today because even though the original scientific paper that suggested MMR vaccinations as a potential cause of autism has been retracted, and the author completely discredited, this idea is still alive and well today.

An article by Generation Rescue (the anti-vaccine organization supported by Jenny McCarthy) published a month ago (March 30, 2011) protested a new vaccination requirement against pertussis, diphtheria, and tetanus in California, with one argument being that there was no diphtheria outbreak last year in the US.  Yes, there was no outbreak, but that’s because widespread vaccinations largely eradicated this illness in many industrialized nations.  If herd immunity (i.e., the vaccination of a significant portion of a population provides a measure of protection for individuals who have not developed immunity) did not exist to protect the entire community, illnesses like diphtheria would be allowed to return to our communities.

But my post today is not about the ridiculous arguments against vaccinations, or how these incorrect notions are extremely detrimental to public health and our society, though I’m always happy to be part of those conversations.

No, my post today is about the infectiousness of an idea, just like they described in the movie Inception.  An individual’s ideas can determine the course of one’s life – his or her ambitions, decisions, careers, and passions.  A society’s ideas shape a community’s laws, morals, dreams, and beliefs.

Barack Obama arguably became the President of United States because of a campaign of ideas: “For Obama is a man who recognizes the power of ideas, and in particular the idea of hope.”

China bans Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and censors Hong Kong news when it mentions certain instances of rebellion against the government, because they are afraid of the spread of ideas.  Every city in China has a mayor in charge of maintaining and solving the problems of the city, but every city also has an appointed governmental official more powerful than the mayor, in charge of maintaining the minds and political beliefs of the citizenry so they are in line with what the Chinese government wants.

I mention the above as examples of how powerful ideas are, and how they shape our world.

Ideas can obviously be used for both good and evil (yes, and shades in between), and I believe it is this notion that TED talks were predicated on.  TED is all about “ideas worth spreading”: free talks available online given by great thinkers and doers, challenged to give the best talks of their lives.  I value TED for its inspiration and their belief that good ideas belong free to the community so that they can be built upon by others, but most importantly, I see TED as an organization that promotes ideas that are well-founded and truly novel over ideas that are fear-mongering and false.

It is because of my shared passion of discovering and spreading good ideas that I decided to get involved with the 2011 TEDxMcGill, an independently-organized local event in the Montreal and McGill communities that is licensed by TED.  My hope is that we will find some undiscovered, phenomenal idea-sharers in our community and help propel their thoughts to the world.

If you are similarly passionate about the power of ideas and you’re interested in volunteering with TEDxMcGill this year, please check out www.tedxmcgill.com and apply before the end of this month (April)!

This was a well-disguised promo piece, don’t you think?

I leave you today with two TED talks.  The first is about the dangers of denying science (where the anti-vaccine movement is featured).  The second is about how science can answer questions of morality.

Good ideas, in my opinion, are not necessarily ones that everyone will agree upon or even believe in 100%, but they are thought-provoking and relevant conversation starters that change an individual or community’s perspective on matters of daily importance, based upon sound evidence and building upon previous ideas of the world.

Thus, I present the two TED talks below because they certainly are fascinating thoughts…

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Reminder: Have Fun! @ Now

17 04 2011

For my recent audition for another McGill musical, I chose to do a comedic monologue for the first time in my life.  And I performed it with a Southern accent, which I had never tried doing before.  Since I have little experience with either accents or comedy, I would normally stay away from trying something so novel, especially when the goal is to try to get a part in a show with this monologue, so why did I do it?  Why didn’t I do something that was safe and that I knew I could do?

Well, the first part of the answer comes from my vocal coach, who has been helping me to sing all of these different styles of rock music for the med school rock band that I’m in (in preparation for the med talent show at the end of May), and she forced me to realize that the essence of rock music is freedom and authenticity and not having a right answer or following the rules all the time.  I am, for the most part, a classically-trained singer, so it has always been about technical precision and perfect control of my voice.  My mentor, however, got me to understand that if I am to be any good at rock music (and this includes Zeppelin, AC/DC, the Beatles, etc.), I need to be able to let go of trying to be perfect and focus on having fun and enjoying the beat and the rhythm and just being the music.

My job was to have fun, and it really was freeing to take risks with my voice.  I surprised myself multiple times at what I could do.  I sounded like a completely different vocalist than my usual musical theatre routine, and it sounded authentic.  I realized that I never bothered trying to sing rock because I didn’t think I could do it, and I had no idea how much fun I was missing out on.

Through the process, there are times when I kind of relate to Natalie Portman in the Black Swan, because to be “perfect”, she had to let go of the notion that there is perfection.  She had to learn to let herself be and feel the art.  But the comparison here is pretty stretched, because I am not that talented of an artist, and I am nowhere near perfect.

In any case, the second incident that pushed me to try a comedic monologue with an accent for the first time in my life was also in preparation for the talent show.  We have been filming some skits to be played at the talent show, and it has been one of the best experiences of my life, because essentially we spent a sunny day running around outside, acting in and filming ridiculous scenarios and looking marvelously silly.  It was a bunch of friends joking around, giving each other new ideas on how to make something funnier or better in another way, and making films for no other reason than because it’ll be an awesome addition to the talent show, and we want to put on an amazing show because all the money we raise will go to the Starlight Foundation.  Because all the deadlines and expectations were self-imposed, we were free to enjoy the process of creativity, and basically just laughed a lot and produced some great scenes.  It made me realize that comedy is just about taking risks and going big and being silly and not being afraid of making a complete fool of yourself, and most importantly, having the time of your life doing it.

The combination of these recent events allowed me to realize that I don’t know whether I will get into the musical that I’m auditioning for, but I do have a chance to perform and try something completely new and different with the audition monologue.  It’s the only opportunity that’s guaranteed right now, so why not leverage it to challenge myself?

More importantly, this past week has shown me the incredible potential rewards of taking risks and letting myself enjoy being in the moment of the art rather than constantly pondering what I want the art to achieve.  The art will speak for itself and it is an untameable beast that others will take what they want from it.  All I have control over is just being present when I’m in the moment, which, funnily enough, usually contributes to good art.

I learned the joys of letting myself look silly and act silly, and I know now that I have amazing friends who will do it with me, and who will support me every step of the way.  So why the heck not?

And how do I get good at something, anyway, if I’m not actually willing to get my hands dirty and just do it?

But most importantly, if I’m not having fun singing rock music or auditioning for a show, then what’s the point?  I do performing art because it’s my escape from medicine.  If I’m so worried about getting the part in a musical that I’m not even having fun in the process, what is the freaking point?





Is empathy teachable?

29 03 2011

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The following is an essay I wrote for Physicianship class, on the subject of whether empathy is a teachable quality.  In a lot of ways, the essay is a continuation of my exploration of a subject I have been thinking about for a while

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Corpus Sanus in Mente Sana: “A Healthy Body in a Healthy Mind”

Empathy is distinct from sympathy.  Whereas the latter focuses on understanding and supporting the feelings or interests of another person, the former encompasses being able to experience the feelings, thoughts, and emotions of another person. (1)  Sympathizing often refers to feeling sorry for someone, whereas empathizing allows one to understand the perspective and concerns of another person, and by extension, their decision-making process, without necessarily agreeing with their actions personally.  The question of whether empathy is teachable requires the exploration of several factors, including whether this is a skill versus a virtue, how this quality produces better physicians, what tangible methods might exist to teach empathy, and most importantly, whether the medical education should strive to teach empathy at all.

Smajdor et al. (1) argue that “‘empathy’ as it is commonly understood, is neither necessary nor sufficient to guarantee good medical or ethical practice.”  First, they believe that empathy is often described as a virtue, a quality that makes a good person and thus a good doctor, but this reasoning is flawed, in part because possessing empathy does not a good person make, and being a good person does not equate to a good doctor.  Empathy is the ability to understand another person’s intentions and actions, but this power can be used for evil as well as good, as in “a gunfighter may use his empathetic powers to predict an opponent’s next move without losing the urge to kill him”. (2)  There may be an unwarranted association between possessing empathy and using it to take care of patients.

Smajdor et al. (1) goes on to point out that a good person may not make a good doctor, especially as more time spent on soft skills means that time needs to be taken out of another part of the medical curriculum.  Furthermore, medical doctors require clinical objectivity to function effectively, the professional distance with patients that allows surgeons to operate without cringing at the sound of the bone saw.  Arguably, a physician overly concerned with feeling their patient’s pain may be unnecessarily distracted from practicing effective medicine, to the detriment of both the doctor and the patient.

And yet, there is much evidence for the power of empathy in medicine.  Even Samjdor et al. (1) admit to the value of subjectivity and empathy in specialties where longer-term relationships are established with patients, such as general practice or psychiatry.  Physicians with greater empathy scores were correlated with significantly better diabetes control in their patients. (3)  This may be due in part to the physicians’ abilities to better understand their patients’ individual circumstances, allowing for recommendations and treatment options that better catered to unique lifestyles and thus allowed for better adherence.  Empathy may also have created a better therapeutic alliance and greater trust between doctor and patient, again leading to increased adherence.  This empathic relationship has been shown to lead to “better immune function, shorter post-surgery hospital stays, fewer asthma attacks, stronger placebo response, and shorter duration of colds”. (4)

It is the author’s belief that one’s capacity for empathy is, like intelligence, genetically determined.  One piece of supportive evidence is the finding that administration of testosterone significantly impaired the ability of women to cognitively empathize, and the effect can be predicted by fetal testosterone effects on the right-hand second digit-to-fourth-digit ratio, suggesting that empathetic powers may be at least partially determined prenatally. (5)  However, in the way that one’s potential IQ is a range whose exact number is determined by the interplay between genetics and environment, so, too, can one’s empathetic powers be developed.  Thus, although empathy may not be teachable, certainly one can strive to ensure that students enter medical school somewhat equipped with this ability and with the desire to use it to help others.  This has been accomplished using such screening tools as the multiple mini-interviews, with evidence of valid assessment of non-cognitive attributes, including empathy. (6)  After admission, courses should be aimed at offering skills to refine empathetic powers, such as the ability to recognize paralanguage and better understanding of different religions, but ultimately, these should not be sold as lessons on empathy.  Experience with patients in different settings is perhaps the best way for students to discover their own empathetic abilities, because the empathy we should strive for is one where doctors understand unique patient life circumstances (1), which requires exposure to these varied scenarios.  Yuen et al. (7), for example, found that even a half-day exposure to chronically ill older patients improved medical students’ appreciation for chronic illness care, as well as empathy and sensitivity towards individualized care of chronically ill patients, even after graduation.

Empathy commonly decreases in the third year of the medical curriculum, likely due to a combination of reasons, including a shift in focus to professional distance and clinical neutrality, increased time pressures, an adoption of technological advances that minimize human contact, a paucity of proper role models, and inappropriate treatment of the students. (4)  Again, it suggests that the problem with empathy is not necessarily that it needs to be taught, but that individual powers can wax and wane depending on the type of education that students receive.  Both empathy and professionalism have been demonstrated to decrease with increasing medical student burnout (8), so it is vital for a medical education to cultivate empathy, if only to help maintain mental health and prevent burnout, which is estimated to be experienced by 60% of practicing physicians. (4)  Decreased empathy leads to a poorer physician-patient relationship, which is associated with decreased trust in physicians and more patient complaints and malpractice claims, as well as decreased job satisfaction, quitting the profession, substance abuse issues, and suicide. (4)

The question is thus not how to teach empathy, but how to develop this existing attribute in students, and prevent its loss during the medical curriculum.  Smajdor et al. (1) make a distinction between etiquette and empathy; whereas the latter is perhaps an innate, unteachable ability to understand individual experiences, the former are more generalizable skills in clear and courteous communication, which is much more teachable, such as with classes on how to listen to paralanguage, make eye contact, and conduct patient-centred, holistic medical interviews.  Perhaps through practicing these etiquette skills and appreciating their emphasis in school, students will reflect on the importance of empathy and nurture their own abilities.

As to how to prevent loss of empathy, research at McGill (9) suggests that there simply needs to be a concerted effort to remove barriers to the medical students’ natural desires to care for their patients.  These barriers include the sometimes seemingly incompatible teachings of empathy and efficiency, the common practice of prioritizing medical education over patient care, the objectification of patients, and the institutionalized practice of wounding patients (e.g., performing unnecessary IVs on anaesthetized patients without their consent) for the sake of learning.

All of the evidence above suggests three key methods of cultivating empathy in students: reflective writing, for students to record their own experiences and process their own reasons and ways to empathize (10); practice in communication and interaction with patients to hone these skills and better understand what caring is on an individual basis; and, most importantly, better role models in senior physicians who must practice what they preach and work to change the systemic inefficiencies in empathic education.

Clinical objectivity is arguably well integrated into the medical curriculum.  As to empathy, although it may not be teachable, one’s medical education should certainly cultivate this quality in future physicians.  It is the balance between objectivity and subjectivity, professional distance and empathic relationships, which allows for proper maintenance of mental health in both physicians and patients, and a healthy mind is the key to a healthy body for everyone involved.

Corpus sanus in mente sana.

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Empathy Essay References





Why I Quit My PhD

12 02 2011

The brilliant cartoon above is from PhD Comics and I think it is relatable to anyone who has ever been a student…

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One more change that happened in January was that I decided to leave the MD-PhD program, meaning that I’ll still be finishing my medical degree, but will no longer be pursuing my PhD at McGill (so I’ll be at McGill for four years instead of seven, and I get to graduate with my current med class, who I adore).

I believe in hard work.  I don’t believe that getting anything valuable comes without dedication and perhaps some sacrifices.  This is why I stuck with research despite never truly loving it.  I told myself: one day, it’ll all make sense for me, and it’ll all be worth it.  When I find the right project, I will love research.

But that day never came.

Despite doing research in a variety of fields and working on fantastic projects, something never felt quite right.  Being in the musical helped me realize what was wrong.  For the show, we had Saturday and Sunday rehearsals, and I would have to wake up in the mornings after an exhausting week (never getting to sleep in), but I would still be so excited to work on this show.  It never felt like an obligation.  I realized that if I truly loved research, I should wake up eager to do it, just like for my rehearsals.

But I never was.

The last straw was when I was late for a research deadline at McGill and it was in no small part because I had procrastinated on it.  I felt so guilty and ashamed of myself, for being so irresponsible and so contrary to my perfectionist and ambitious nature.  I realized that by my own standards, I was only ever a mediocre researcher, when I could be and should be a stellar something-else.  That is when I decided that I must leave the MD-PhD program.

I think part of the issue is that I have a genuine love of science, and I never want to let that go.  Being able to work as a healthcare professional is a dream come true, but medicine is not science, and I don’t want to give up my scientific roots, the thrill of discovering new bits of information about the world and understanding why and how life works.  I love reading science news on a daily basis, and I want to leverage that passion to contribute to society.

But I realize now that doing my PhD in neuroscience wasn’t the way for me to tie science into my life.  I’ve always believed that basic research discoveries are directly applicable to society, which is why I try to share science news with my friends and colleagues on Facebook and Twitter on a daily basis, hopefully demonstrating the relevance of science in everyone’s lives.  I’m also passionate about the need to turn science into public policy, so that changes can be made to laws and governmental programs based on well-researched opinions and beliefs.  I always thought that my passion for relating science to the public meant that I should be focused on the research side, but I was wrong.  I need to and my skill set lies in working with people, which I think means that I need to focus not on the research side, but perhaps on the scientific journalism side, or the public policy side.

I think that the MD-PhD looked perfect for me on paper: a structured, obvious route that neatly ties all my passions into one career trajectory.  It is a well-recognized career path, and I sold myself on all the perks of that.  I think a part of me always felt like this road was not quite right for me, and yet I never wanted to confront this hidden self.  The MD-PhD is such a wonderful program, and choosing not to continue with it would have meant that I had to carve out my own path – a less well-tread one – and I was frankly too scared to make myself face this possibility on top of all the other changes I was already making (i.e., starting a new life in Montreal).

The MD-PhD program is like a prestigious train to a beautiful location that I wanted to hop on before I missed this golden opportunity, so I didn’t think it through as much as I should have and I silenced the part of my brain that nagged at me because everyone tells you that you should be honoured to be on this train and heading to such a wonderful destination, and you feel the same way.  And by the time you do realize that this might not be the train for you, it had already left the platform, and you feel horrible inconveniencing the conductor, the driver, and all the other passengers, especially when you being on this train meant that you had taken someone else’s spot.

The downside of loving structure and planning as much as I do is that I am easily drawn to ready-made programs and paths that seem almost perfectly suited for me.  The key word in that sentence is almost perfect.  The truth is that I’m finally at a stage of my life where I know what I love and what I do not love, and I’m unwilling to make myself do any less than what I feel that I deserve and that which makes me happy.  I also finally have the experience, knowledge, and most importantly, courage to carve out my own journey in life.

Maybe that’s reckless, young, and naively optimistic, but if that’s the case, I hope I continue being this way forever.





I Am Changing

12 02 2011

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As I wrote a few blog posts ago, January was a month of change and clarity for me.

I’ve deleted the word psychiatrist from the tagline of this blog, not because I no longer consider psychiatry to be one of my top potential medical specialty choices, but because it shouldn’t be the only one.

I took a test on the AAMC’s Career in Medicine website meant to help students explore what specialties might be a good fit for us depending on what type of practice you prioritize (e.g., Do you prefer a practice where you…obtain consultation from other physicians in arriving at a diagnosis?…deal with incurable diseases?…use treatment concepts and procedures that undergo rapid change?).

This test is a little silly in some ways, in my opinion, because often we answer these questions with preconceived notions of what we might want to be, so in some ways the answers we choose are based on certain specialties that we have in mind, so the results that we get are self-fulfilling prophecies based on what we went into the test thinking about.

Regardless, I still think there is value in this online assessment, and here are the results of my test:

47 % Psychiatry
22 % Internal Medicine
19 % Pediatrics (…this is apparently not a word, according to Google spell check…)
5 % Family Medicine
3 % Anesthesiology

After you take the test, the Careers in Medicine website gives you a summary of each of your top recommended specialties, and an interesting part of these summaries is that they actually include what Myers-Briggs personality types tend to be found in each medical specialty!  The funny thing, though, is that understanding myself and reflecting through Myers-Briggs and my friends in December was what helped me realize that I often love planning too much, to the point that I am in danger of being inflexible when it comes to my career and life plans.

But not wanting to narrow my options so early wasn’t the only reason why I decided to keep more of an open mind.  The truth is there is a lot I do not yet know about psychiatry.  I know that I love noticing the speech patterns, paralanguage, and behavioural cues of people around me to infer what’s going on in their minds, and I genuinely want to help those I care about in dealing with personal issues.  What I do not know is whether I would want to get involved on a similarly intense personal level with patients (i.e., not my friends) on a regular basis, but be forced to maintain only professional relationships.  I think that I would be good at empathizing with patients while maintaing emotional and mental distance, but it’s hard to say whether I could maintain it without burning out, or whether I would get bored.

Of course, psychiatry still fascinates me, because ultimately, I believe treating the mind in an individualized and holistic way is what truly heals a patient, and I think individual cases would be fascinating and challenging.

Another consideration, though, is that I think I would be interested in the possibility of moving upwards in the hospital hierarchy, but I’m not sure whether certain specialties are more prone to being promoted to administrative positions.

Finally, internal medicine and pediatrics both fascinate me tremendously.  Internal medicine, because internists figure out what patients have (i.e., diagnose) and they regularly deal with most branches of medicine, so the diversity and puzzle-solving aspects would certainly keep it interesting for me, I think.  Meanwhile, pediatrics involves complicated legal, ethical, and social issues that may often include interactions with parents and social workers to determine the best course of action to take care of a child holistically so that she or he can be in the best shape to live out his or her life, which hopefully will last a very long time.  I think I would love the complicated decision-making that happens with pediatric medicine, but more importantly, I think I would be grateful everyday for the opportunity to give children quality of life that will allow them to become future community and world leaders, making an impact in the world because their health affords them to do so.

I’ve recently even started considering gastroenterology, but I’ll write more about the beauty that is the GI tract in a future post…

In short, my opinion of medicine, and how I relate to it, changes everyday, so pigeoning myself into a corner won’t do me any favours.

So yes, for now, I do not know what type of doctor I’ll become, and that’s more than ohkay.

I am a-changing, indeed…but that wasn’t even even the biggest change that happened in my life in January…

To sign off, I leave you with one of my favourite songs from the musical Dreamgirls, about the beauty of renewal, growth, and the recognition that we need our friends to help us get there…

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The Man Who Stole My TED Talk!

8 02 2011

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Plain and simple.

This man dived into the recesses of my mind, stole my thoughts, strung them together eloquently, and delivered it as a product of his own creation.

An act of thievery of epic proportions if I e’er saw one!

But in all honesty, Nigel Marsh does a phenomenal job in presenting an idea that I always thought would be at the top of my list of potential topics if I was ever to present a TED talk.

His talk is about redefining success in our society, and his suggestion (as well as mine) is that true success should be defined not in terms of money or being the “best” at one thing, but by how well one lives our life in terms of true balance: spiritual, emotional, intellectual, mental, physical, work, life, family, passions, etc.

Being at UBC, specifically being involved with the Student Development Office, really opened my eyes to what balance is, what it means to me, and how I can strive to achieve that.  It’s the reason why I took part in a musical even with med school and research.  It’s the reason why I’m going to start taking dance (contemporary, jazz, ballet) lessons for the first time in my life and pick up yoga again.  It’s the reason why I keep making myself go to the gym three times a week no matter what else (sickness, fatigue, deadlines) might be going on in my life.  It’s the reason why I make time to write this blog, read the news, go to counselling, why I love being with my friends, talking with my family, meeting new people, spending time pursuing new initiatives I have never tried before.

Balance for me, at least at this stage of my life, is often tied to experimenting with new projects and programs, figuring out what it is that I do and do not want as part of my regular routine in the future.  Funnily enough, though, too regular of a routine makes me feel out of balance.  I think this stems from the belief that to do something well, I have to put in my all, but spending so much time on one goal means that I am undoubtedly neglecting other ones.  I guess this constant fear of being off-balance feeds my desire and need to constantly be changing what the current focus of my life is.

Striving for balance keeps me sane, and it’s my pursuit of what I believe is success, which at the end of the day is just doing things that make me happy.

Anyway, I’ll keep this short, because I think Nigel pretty much sums it up in his short video, and I think it is definitely worth a listen!





The End of an Era

30 01 2011

A promo shot for our musical, Kiss of the Spider Woman

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The reason I love theatre is because of the consistency of flux.  No two rehearsals, performances are ever the same.  Theatre is the capturing of a precise moment in time, a fleeting exhilaration and reflection of the human experience never to be seen in the exact way again.  There is a rush of highs, as you get excited by the script for the first time, as you discover the nuances of your lines for the first time, as you play off the brilliance of your colleagues, as you dive deeper into the motivations of your character(s), as you do your first full run-through, as you realize four months in that you’re still learning new things about your own show every time you watch it, and as you take it to full dress rehearsals with beautiful set/make-up/lighting/costume/orchestra and press.

I love theatre because it is a constant self-discovery and mutual learning process.  I love the essence of theatre: put in your all, enjoy your moment, share the beauty, and then move on.  As someone who needs to constantly be doing different things, theatre is perfect, because there is always an upwards trajectory, always a path towards the climactic experience that is the performance.  And yet, through my journey in Kiss of the Spider Woman, I realized that the end product was really never the climax for me.  I mean, it was, but only because it was the culmination of everybody’s hard work, and it was indescribable to feel the vibe of the cast and crew, work off each other, and celebrate our journey together by putting on these six great shows.

For me, the process was much more important than the “goal”.  Getting to know and being inspired by my amazing cast mates and the stellar production team, falling in love with dancing and acting for real for the first time in my life, realizing the true power of the arts to convey important messages and provoke thought and emotion (and realizing that I have the ability to be part of this process), and using this experience as an intense training ground for my acting/singing/dancing/understanding of how theatre operates.  These are the cherished gems that I have received from being part of this production.

Thus, although I really loved being able to share the product of our journey with my dear friends who came to see the show, the greatest highs from the show were really in rehearsals when we were told for the first time to be a pile of dead bodies or a zombie wall, and when I rehearsed a dance 10 times in a row in my apartment and finally got it, and when we are backstage in the theatre making strange noises and actions before we go on stage.

My point is: I love theatre because it’s like a drug that keeps giving higher highs, that is, until you go cold turkey, and withdrawal hits you like a brick wall.  You go from seeing your comrades every single day to suddenly not.  And even if you do get together, it’s not everyone, and it’s never for the same purpose ever again.  Never to create a work of art together in the same way.

And the interesting thing, in my opinion, is its resemblance to a traditional Chinese funeral.

In a more Western funeral, there is often time for the beloved to publicly share memories of the dear one who has passed away.  Contrastingly, in one type of traditional Chinese funeral, the extended family of the loved one is kept extremely busy keeping a fire going, chanting, performing ceremonies for the dead, and essentially keeping so preoccupied that there is no emotional or mental or physical energy left to grieve.  All energy is focused on the ceremonies that need to be done and the proper respects that need to be paid.  In some ways, I think it reflects a little bit on how certain cultures deal with mourning differently, but that’s neither here nor there, at least for today’s post.

My point was: maybe this metaphor is a little morbid, but last night (after our last performance), we worked on striking the set (i.e., taking down the entire set/lighting and properly organizing/storing props/costumes/etc.), which took until 1 AM, and then we went to an awesome cast and crew party, which I only stayed at until 3 AM, but the entire night was so busy and exhausting and wonderful that I never got the chance to process the fact that I’m going to miss these people so much.  I think everyone processes change differently, but I needed time to be away from them before I realized that it’s finally, actually over, and what that really, truly means…

The end of an era.

So, all my ranting here today is a result of the fact that I didn’t get to grieve at the end of our show last night.  I guess this post serves as some attempt at closure for myself, as the reality finally sets in.

Theatre can be beautiful, and my experience with theatre these past few months has been nothing but.

To my beloved Kiss of the Spider Woman family, thank you for the memories.  I love you all and better see you all ASAP!

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There’s Going to Be Good Times…(Nothing But Good Times!)

18 01 2011

Photo Credit: Eric Chad

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This is, in part, a letter of apology to my friends, who must be wondering whether I still exist. The truth is a solid “kind-of”. As in I kind-of live in the theatre until the end of January.

The reason?

Kiss of the Spider Woman: the musical journey that started when I auditioned in September, is now finally, actually opening.

The show was the 1993 Tony Award winner for Best Musical, and it’s being put on by the McGill Arts Undergraduate Theatre Society.  Kiss of the Spider Woman is set in a Latin American prison, where Valentin, a Marxist revolutionary, is put in the same cell as Molina, a homosexual imprisoned for allegedly corrupting a minor.  Molina escapes the real world of the jail cell by imagining movies starring his favourite actress, Aurora, who Molina loves in all roles except when she is the Spider Woman, whose kiss kills.  The show is about how Molina and Valentin change the course of each other’s lives, leading towards the inevitability of the Spider Woman’s kiss.

My life since the beginning of January has centred around this show, as we’ve had 4-hour to 8-hour rehearsals every day, and we rapidly evolved from just rehearsing in our sweat pants in a fitness room to working in the beautiful Moyse Theatre, figuring out lighting cues, trying not to lean on (i.e., break) our mic packs, learning to put on mascara (I really just needed an excuse to learn…=P), discovering how short a time we have to change costumes between scenes, and tonight we are doing our press preview before we open for the public on Thursday!

All of that happened in the span of about two weeks, and I’ve had the privilege of getting a taste what it’s like to do musical theatre full time.  And you know what?  It’s exhausting.  I get home every night and all I can mentally afford to do is sit and watch old Chinese tv dramas.  I’m too energized from the show to sleep and too drained from it to do anything productive.  And then I sleep later than normal so that I can wake up later so that by the time the show starts I can try to be in peak condition.  I force myself to eat better and more regularly so that I hopefully time it right to have the perfect amount of energy for the show without taking in so many carbs that I feel bloated or sleepy during the show.  Some of the cast is sick and we have to balance between putting our all into the rehearsals and holding back our voices to save it for the performances.  I’ve been prioritizing sleep and exercise above all else so as to hold sickness at bay (and also to try to look the best I can!).  On top of that, there are notes (i.e., feedback and changes about the show) every night, and every day there are new cues to remember and new scenes to tweak, and I constantly worry that I’ll forget something that we changed yesterday.

And let’s not forget the fact that the show is supposed to be extracurricular, as in in addition to school (and not instead of =P), of which I have a midterm for next Monday, in between the two sets of three shows that we do.  There are nights when I freak out because I don’t know how I’m going to find the time to actually study for this exam.

All of that, though, just to say that I’m having the freaking time of my life and I wouldn’t have changed the experience for the world.

The cast is such a joy to work with, and we really rely on each other as a team.  I’m inspired by them every day.  The production team is absolutely ridiculous, and I cannot wait to talk to my friends who come to the show about whether they noticed some of the nuances of the set, the costuming, the lighting, the choreography, the music, and the direction that are absolutely beautiful, in my very biased opinion.

As I sit back to think about it, I cannot believe how fortunate I am to be able to be part of such a big and serious production, on top of being able to follow my dream of becoming a doctor.  It gives me hope that I can balance both of my passions in the future as well.  The craziness that is school is completely different from the intensity of doing a show, and I think I need both in my life.

The show is finally opening, and I’m so excited for people to see it, and to find out what you think!  I’m so very proud of the work that we all did together, and I’m so very thankful for the personal emotional and mental journey that I took with the serious themes in this musical, as well as the fun and intellectual one that I took with my amazing colleagues.

So, as the beautiful Aurora sings in our show:

“There’s going to be good times…Nothing but good times…”

So don’t miss out!

P.S. Check out the clip below of a class presentation we did! We are prisoners who have been tortured for days, so Valentin tries to find his escape by thinking about his beloved Marta.





Rock the SAD Away

28 11 2010

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Apologies for the long hiatus since the last post: I believe I have been suffering from SAD (seasonal affective disorder), which is the onset of symptoms of depression (e.g., overeating of carbs, oversleeping, general lack of motivation to do anything) during the winter months (although it is also possible for SAD to manifest as spring-summer depression rather than autumn-winter depression).  Some have designated SAD as a leftover adaptive trait akin to hibernation while others have postulated about vitamin D deficiency and/or melatonin hypersecretion during the winter months as a risk factor of SAD (due to low levels of sunlight).  I think November is a bad month for me because the days are shorter than in almost any other month, the sky is darker, and the oversleeping means that I miss most of what little daylight there is.  The overeating and the lack of motivation to go to the gym or dress nicely means that my self-confidence has also taken quite a hit, which just feeds right into the delightful cycle of overeating, oversleeping, anhedonia, and unproductivity.

Of course, it doesn’t help that artificial lighting has been linked to overeating and obesity, because the decrease in natural light during November means the increase in artificial lighting.

But my point of this post is two-fold.  First, it was to explain and apologize for my lack of updating this site (but I’m getting better so expect more ramblings asap!).  But second and more importantly, it’s to point out that SAD can affect anyone, especially students who are already stressed at this time of year as it is (because of exams, assignments, papers, and balancing school, life, family, extracurriculars, and everything else during the holiday season).  SAD has been found to affect somewhere between 1% to 10% of North American populations.  So if you are like me, and you have been feeling particularly unproductive (I’ve pretty much just stayed at home watching old episodes of “The Nanny” while ignoring most academic, social, and personal responsibilities), it’s sometimes helpful just to know that there’s a reason for it that’s not your fault.  It’s good to know that I’m not just getting fat and lazy because something has changed in my personality and in my ambitions, but because I’m suffering from an illness.

And if you are suffering from SAD, November is almost over, so hopefully it’ll get better once the holidays arrive and the Winter Solstice has passed (meaning that the days will become longer).  But if you are strongly affected by SAD (or even if you just want it to go away), there are things you can do to fight it.

For me, what has worked is forcing myself to sleep earlier and wake up when there is sunlight.  Maximizing sunlight exposure makes a world of difference; regardless of whether it’s the placebo effect, vitamin D production, the sociocultural effect of being with my community during the daytime, or some other effect altogether.  What has also worked for me is making the effort to exercise, dress up, and be with people I care about, because doing things that make me happy and give me confidence will hopefully feed into a positive cycle of feeling less depressed and more energetic.  I’ve also been experimenting with turning on the heat in my apartment, because I realize that part of the reason I overeat and feel lethargic may be due to the fact a lot of my resting metabolic energy is dedicated to producing heat to keep my body and brain warm, which diverts attention away from other matters, like thinking and studying (good excuse, eh? =D).

If those tricks don’t work for you, you can try taking vitamin D supplements, using light therapy (bright light, or perhaps green light, which may suppress melatonin production – I’m buying a light box as I type!), dawn simulation (having lights gradually turn on just before the alarm rings to wake you up), and high-density negative ionization (releasing charged particles into the sleep environment – my light box also emits negative ions!), although I would suggest going into the primary literature to look at clinical trials to learn more about how effective these treatments are and whether they are likely to work for your demographic.

If these therapies still don’t work, you can visit a psychiatrist, who can then help with diagnosis and treatment, and may prescribe antidepressants, timed melatonin doses, cognitive behavioural therapy, or other treatments, depending on what is right for you.

I think the unknown is the scariest thing.  Knowing what we’re dealing with is half the battle.  And now, I can try to treat myself for a psychiatric condition (although it’s not really a stand-alone condition in the DSM-IV, and I don’t know that I would actually qualify as suffering from it according to the DSM…).

Hopefully with the onset of snow, the white, bright, cleanliness of it all will help me fight this SADness.

On a related note, I have decided to start petitioning for clocks not to be put back during the fall, for the sake of health!

November is almost over…








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