This post is almost necessarily a quickie -- I posted last night, and there isn't a whole lot to report. But I couldn't let my favorite holiday go by without some kind of mention.
Not that it's much of anything here in Tianjin, so far as I can tell. I imagine that some expats are having a party, somewhere, but since I haven't met any American expats who are still here.... I guess I'll have to go around the rest of the night dressed as a 洋鬼子 (yang guizi, "devil foreigner").
So much for my attempts at humor for the evening! Anyway, today I was in the psychosomatic department -- but not the Andryny sub-section. Working on that for Monday or Tuesday, but the real problem is that most of the translators are women, and the guys don't want to be confessing their sexual inadequacies in front of women. Go figure... it's really not all that different from in the US.
But this was a total change of pace. The patients are mostly insomnia or depression cases... sound familiar to any US-based Chinese Medicine practitioners out there? It's mostly being treated by the doctor with a combination of Western medicine and Chinese herbs, with occasional acupuncture thrown in, instead of the other way around. Here's one of the places where Chinese is a lot easier, since it's 西药 (Xiyao, "Western Medicine") and 中药 (Zhongyao, "Chinese Medicine") to differentiate the two. When I explain the regulatory environment in the US to folks here, I get amazed looks that (a) anyone can prescribe Chinese Medicine and (b) a licensed TCM practitioner can't prescribe ANY Western meds.
The patients were mostly repeats, so the pace was pretty quick -- 57 patients between 8:00 am and 12:30 pm, to be exact. That's almost 13 patients per hour! And the new patients took some time -- 20 minutes to half an hour each. Good thing we only had about three of those.
Anyway, I'm off to haunt the streets for a little bit. Give some candy to some kids for me.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Minor changes in plans...
So I went to talk to the head of the Foreign Affairs department at the school today, and she told me that there could be a slight change in plans. Instead of going to the 8th floor tomorrow morning (Friday), where I'd see the stroke inpatients again, I'd be going over to the Psychology department -- where I'll be following one of the doctors who's in the Andryny specialization. That's the men's health angle that I was thinking about when I came here in the first place. Of course, because of the acupuncture focus of the school and the stroke service, I pretty much went with the flow, to (I think) very good effect. But this is something I was hoping to see while I was here.
Treatment is a combination of acupuncture, Western medicine, and Chinese herbal medicine, so I'm totally going to have to be on my game if I don't want to look like a dummy. But that's no problem. The only problem is that the doctor I'm supposed to be following tomorrow is only available Monday and Friday of next week -- and that's supposed to be my last week in Tianjin! I'll see if I can get another doctor to follow on Tuesday, at least. Then there's a conference that has some interesting lectures on Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning. So I'm just busily remaining flexible!
The afternoons upstairs are generally pretty slow, so the instructor takes some time to go over specific treatment protocols with me for different conditions (besides stroke). These aren't the same as what I got in the textbooks in school -- they come from one of the doctors here at the school. So I've gotten a little list of things to try based on other people's experience, too.
One of the things that's a little frustrating is that the computer system they use here to place doctor's orders is interminably slow. It literally takes half an hour to update anyone, so if (like today) a patient needs something for her cough, interns who can't read the Chinese (and consequently can neither help nor learn) have been stuck doing, well, nothing. But the last couple of days, the instructor has brought a book of research papers published at the school, so I've gotten additional notes on treating obesity, manic-depressive disorder, prostatitis, and, of all things, conversion of atrial fibrillation with acupuncture.
Good stuff. Stay tuned!
Treatment is a combination of acupuncture, Western medicine, and Chinese herbal medicine, so I'm totally going to have to be on my game if I don't want to look like a dummy. But that's no problem. The only problem is that the doctor I'm supposed to be following tomorrow is only available Monday and Friday of next week -- and that's supposed to be my last week in Tianjin! I'll see if I can get another doctor to follow on Tuesday, at least. Then there's a conference that has some interesting lectures on Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning. So I'm just busily remaining flexible!
The afternoons upstairs are generally pretty slow, so the instructor takes some time to go over specific treatment protocols with me for different conditions (besides stroke). These aren't the same as what I got in the textbooks in school -- they come from one of the doctors here at the school. So I've gotten a little list of things to try based on other people's experience, too.
One of the things that's a little frustrating is that the computer system they use here to place doctor's orders is interminably slow. It literally takes half an hour to update anyone, so if (like today) a patient needs something for her cough, interns who can't read the Chinese (and consequently can neither help nor learn) have been stuck doing, well, nothing. But the last couple of days, the instructor has brought a book of research papers published at the school, so I've gotten additional notes on treating obesity, manic-depressive disorder, prostatitis, and, of all things, conversion of atrial fibrillation with acupuncture.
Good stuff. Stay tuned!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Inpatient Clinic
So today marked my first full day in the inpatient clinic at the hospital, and I have to say that things here are completely different. That doesn't really surprise me -- if you have to stay at the hospital, then you're almost necessarily sicker than someone who doesn't. I'd seen people in pretty bad shape come into the clinic -- folks who probably would have been in an assisted living facility in the US, but were being taken care of by family here in China.
Upstairs, though -- I'm observing on the 8th floor instead of the 2nd -- there's an incredible range of health and functionality. Just today, I saw a woman who was ready to go home, who had virtually no signs of her stroke a couple of months ago. Later that day, I saw her cruising by the door to the ward I was in, smiling and laughing. I saw a 38-year-old man who was in thanks to an aggravation of his symptoms from a stroke four years earlier. He didn't look happy to be there. I saw four people on supplemental oxygen, and two on NG (nasogastric) tubes because they had no gag reflex and had to have food delivered directly into their stomachs so they wouldn't choke on it. A man in his sixties cried because he was, the instructor told me, afraid of getting needled. (See, TheDiscourser? It's not just your wife.)
Hopefully, you're getting the idea that as varied as things were in the clinic downstairs, the inpatient wards were five times that upstairs.
Let me give you an idea of what things look like. The main hallway is kind of dark -- about half the lights are out at any given time, though I think they're turned off rather than burned out. And like a lot of buildings in China, the ceiling is pretty low -- probably 2.5 meters, rather than the 10 feet (3 meters) that we're used to in the US. Each ward -- there are maybe 25 wards on this floor without counting -- has four beds in it, all lined up along one wall underneath a strip that has jacks for power and -- I think -- oxygen, and maybe something else. I'll look again tomorrow. Along the opposite wall, maybe 2 meters from the foot of the beds, are chairs, and maybe another bed, where there is invariably a family member for each patient, maybe two or even three. So in a full room, you're looking at maybe ten people in the room, plus the doctor (or doctors) and any students there to watch.
It has a definite 1960s feel to it, down to the nurses who wear those little squared-off caps. You could almost smell the boiled cabbage, except that it's not boiled cabbage here, it's thin congee (rice porridge) and stir-fried vegetables, at least it was this morning. But it came by on a big cart, with family members coming out to collect the food in their own containers. The dedication shown by families here is just... well, I think I keep on talking about it. I'm impressed by their spirit and devotion.
Patients -- or rather, their family members -- supply their own needles, which are kept on the table by the bedside. Each patient gets needles twice per day -- once in the morning, where they get body acupuncture that is somewhat specific to their symptoms and condition, and once in the afternoon, when they get a more-or-less standard combination of three points, inserted bilaterally. In between, they also get a five-minute session of cupping, usually along the back-shu points on either side of the spine (but sometimes also in a problem area, like an arthritic knee or a painful shoulder). There's always food in the rooms -- the Chinese have a healthy obsession with food -- and it's surprisingly social, considering the reason people are there.
Anyhow, it's a new and different atmosphere, and I'm once again enjoying it, even if I have moments where I feel like a little duckling following the doctor around, listening to her lectures (and translations), and (more rarely) answering her questions. The time seems to go by quickly since there's much less standing around, and there's the doctor's room to retreat to on the rare occasions when there's time to kill.
So we'll see how this goes. Yet another look into the way they treat medicine here... always fascinating.
Upstairs, though -- I'm observing on the 8th floor instead of the 2nd -- there's an incredible range of health and functionality. Just today, I saw a woman who was ready to go home, who had virtually no signs of her stroke a couple of months ago. Later that day, I saw her cruising by the door to the ward I was in, smiling and laughing. I saw a 38-year-old man who was in thanks to an aggravation of his symptoms from a stroke four years earlier. He didn't look happy to be there. I saw four people on supplemental oxygen, and two on NG (nasogastric) tubes because they had no gag reflex and had to have food delivered directly into their stomachs so they wouldn't choke on it. A man in his sixties cried because he was, the instructor told me, afraid of getting needled. (See, TheDiscourser? It's not just your wife.)
Hopefully, you're getting the idea that as varied as things were in the clinic downstairs, the inpatient wards were five times that upstairs.
Let me give you an idea of what things look like. The main hallway is kind of dark -- about half the lights are out at any given time, though I think they're turned off rather than burned out. And like a lot of buildings in China, the ceiling is pretty low -- probably 2.5 meters, rather than the 10 feet (3 meters) that we're used to in the US. Each ward -- there are maybe 25 wards on this floor without counting -- has four beds in it, all lined up along one wall underneath a strip that has jacks for power and -- I think -- oxygen, and maybe something else. I'll look again tomorrow. Along the opposite wall, maybe 2 meters from the foot of the beds, are chairs, and maybe another bed, where there is invariably a family member for each patient, maybe two or even three. So in a full room, you're looking at maybe ten people in the room, plus the doctor (or doctors) and any students there to watch.
It has a definite 1960s feel to it, down to the nurses who wear those little squared-off caps. You could almost smell the boiled cabbage, except that it's not boiled cabbage here, it's thin congee (rice porridge) and stir-fried vegetables, at least it was this morning. But it came by on a big cart, with family members coming out to collect the food in their own containers. The dedication shown by families here is just... well, I think I keep on talking about it. I'm impressed by their spirit and devotion.
Patients -- or rather, their family members -- supply their own needles, which are kept on the table by the bedside. Each patient gets needles twice per day -- once in the morning, where they get body acupuncture that is somewhat specific to their symptoms and condition, and once in the afternoon, when they get a more-or-less standard combination of three points, inserted bilaterally. In between, they also get a five-minute session of cupping, usually along the back-shu points on either side of the spine (but sometimes also in a problem area, like an arthritic knee or a painful shoulder). There's always food in the rooms -- the Chinese have a healthy obsession with food -- and it's surprisingly social, considering the reason people are there.
Anyhow, it's a new and different atmosphere, and I'm once again enjoying it, even if I have moments where I feel like a little duckling following the doctor around, listening to her lectures (and translations), and (more rarely) answering her questions. The time seems to go by quickly since there's much less standing around, and there's the doctor's room to retreat to on the rare occasions when there's time to kill.
So we'll see how this goes. Yet another look into the way they treat medicine here... always fascinating.
The Days are Just Packed
I'm looking at my blog for the first time in what seems like a week.... and I discover that it's been, well, almost a week since I last posted. Since it appears that I have a few minutes, let me explain what's been going on.
No, that would take too long. Let me sum up.
I'm finished in Dr. Yang's clinic, this week I'm in the inpatient department on the 8th floor (in 15 minutes or so), and next week I'll probably be in a specialty psych department. I had a tour of the school on Friday where I met an 18-year-old guy from Sacramento who had a stroke 16 months ago, and he's pleased with his progress since coming to the hospital. Zach and Josh have gone, which means I get back to my routine, more or less.
Now if I only had a holocaust cloak, that would be something.....
No, that would take too long. Let me sum up.
I'm finished in Dr. Yang's clinic, this week I'm in the inpatient department on the 8th floor (in 15 minutes or so), and next week I'll probably be in a specialty psych department. I had a tour of the school on Friday where I met an 18-year-old guy from Sacramento who had a stroke 16 months ago, and he's pleased with his progress since coming to the hospital. Zach and Josh have gone, which means I get back to my routine, more or less.
Now if I only had a holocaust cloak, that would be something.....
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
New clinic!
It's already halfway through the new week, in a new clinic. It's been interesting, and I've got so much time and so little to do.... wait. Scratch that. Reverse it.
Thank you.
So on Monday I went to talk to Ms. Liang, and she told me that the doctor upstairs in the inpatient department that she wanted me to work with wasn't going to be available this week, so she was moving me to a different outpatient clinic for this week, and then next week I'd be upstairs. That was okay with me -- although I didn't really think that I'd gotten everything I could from Dr Wang, I also knew that I was reaching diminishing returns, especially with my mediocre Chinese.
There were also two Americans who would be in clinic with me this week, Zach and Josh, a couple of guys from the TCM school in Hawai'i who were getting some clinical credit before ending a two-month trip here in China.
I'll let that line stand alone, but they're good guys, and it's nice to chat in fluent English with a mostly-common cultural context for a change. (Josh is from Berkeley, actually, so there's a totally-common context there.) I won't go into much detail about them at this point, except to say that we've been having fun hanging out together and the next time I'm in Oahu (the first time I'm in Oahu), I'll definitely want to visit them, and also check out the school, which seems to have a very Daoist perspective on Chinese Medicine.
So now, I'm two doors down, seeing largely the same kinds of patients -- facial paralysis, hemiplegia, other sequelae of stroke, and a bunch of neck and back pain. But I'm also getting quizzed by Dr Yang on point functions (differentiate the indications for San Yin Jiao, Tai Xi, and Fu Liu), needling techniques (describe the difference between tonification and sedation needling techniques when rotating the needle), and TCM theory (explain why the patient with depression and poor appetite now has dry, dark patches of skin on her face). So far, I'm doing pretty well. I'm also getting lots of new information and demonstrations on all three counts, too.
This includes "point" or "leopard-spot" needling, which I'd never seen before -- think of the effects of plum blossom needling but much more gentle and suitable for delicate areas like the eyelid. Or other locations that are less painful to needle (上八邪Shang Ba Xie, for instance, just proximal to the MP joint between the metacarpals instead of in the webbing of the fingers). So there's a lot here to learn -- and lots of opportunity to practice my Chinese, of course.
Yesterday afternoon, Dr Yang had a lecture, so we went upstairs to follow someone who was doing cupping on the inpatients. These are folks who are within a couple of months post-stroke -- in some cases, hours after being admitted -- and it's an entirely different experience. These are folks lying in beds, five beds to a ward with no curtains, family all around, and two acupuncture treatments per day -- one in the morning and one in the evening. They also get cupping (Jia Ji points for five minutes a pop) once a day, and some get Tui Na (bodywork) or other rehabilitative treatment depending on their condition. Like in the outpatient department downstairs, there is a lot of heavy stimulation including through-and-through needling technique. Unlike the outpatient department, most people get somewhere between six and ten needles, not twenty or thirty as for facial paralysis. This, I suspect, is because the patients in an acute stage are needing to get over the worst of their symptoms (such as a reduced or lost gag reflex or profound hemiplegia), so it's not such a good idea to disperse their Qi quite so much.
It was a pretty quick two hours, no matter how you look at it.
Tomorrow promises to be interesting as well, as Dr Yang wants to demonstrate both 烧山火(Setting the Mountain on Fire) and 透天凉 (Penetrating Heaven Coolness) techniques, and maybe have us practice them on a patient. I still need to get the hang of needling without a guide tube, so I might try to find a way to practice that first.
Thank you.
So on Monday I went to talk to Ms. Liang, and she told me that the doctor upstairs in the inpatient department that she wanted me to work with wasn't going to be available this week, so she was moving me to a different outpatient clinic for this week, and then next week I'd be upstairs. That was okay with me -- although I didn't really think that I'd gotten everything I could from Dr Wang, I also knew that I was reaching diminishing returns, especially with my mediocre Chinese.
There were also two Americans who would be in clinic with me this week, Zach and Josh, a couple of guys from the TCM school in Hawai'i who were getting some clinical credit before ending a two-month trip here in China.
I'll let that line stand alone, but they're good guys, and it's nice to chat in fluent English with a mostly-common cultural context for a change. (Josh is from Berkeley, actually, so there's a totally-common context there.) I won't go into much detail about them at this point, except to say that we've been having fun hanging out together and the next time I'm in Oahu (the first time I'm in Oahu), I'll definitely want to visit them, and also check out the school, which seems to have a very Daoist perspective on Chinese Medicine.
So now, I'm two doors down, seeing largely the same kinds of patients -- facial paralysis, hemiplegia, other sequelae of stroke, and a bunch of neck and back pain. But I'm also getting quizzed by Dr Yang on point functions (differentiate the indications for San Yin Jiao, Tai Xi, and Fu Liu), needling techniques (describe the difference between tonification and sedation needling techniques when rotating the needle), and TCM theory (explain why the patient with depression and poor appetite now has dry, dark patches of skin on her face). So far, I'm doing pretty well. I'm also getting lots of new information and demonstrations on all three counts, too.
This includes "point" or "leopard-spot" needling, which I'd never seen before -- think of the effects of plum blossom needling but much more gentle and suitable for delicate areas like the eyelid. Or other locations that are less painful to needle (上八邪Shang Ba Xie, for instance, just proximal to the MP joint between the metacarpals instead of in the webbing of the fingers). So there's a lot here to learn -- and lots of opportunity to practice my Chinese, of course.
Yesterday afternoon, Dr Yang had a lecture, so we went upstairs to follow someone who was doing cupping on the inpatients. These are folks who are within a couple of months post-stroke -- in some cases, hours after being admitted -- and it's an entirely different experience. These are folks lying in beds, five beds to a ward with no curtains, family all around, and two acupuncture treatments per day -- one in the morning and one in the evening. They also get cupping (Jia Ji points for five minutes a pop) once a day, and some get Tui Na (bodywork) or other rehabilitative treatment depending on their condition. Like in the outpatient department downstairs, there is a lot of heavy stimulation including through-and-through needling technique. Unlike the outpatient department, most people get somewhere between six and ten needles, not twenty or thirty as for facial paralysis. This, I suspect, is because the patients in an acute stage are needing to get over the worst of their symptoms (such as a reduced or lost gag reflex or profound hemiplegia), so it's not such a good idea to disperse their Qi quite so much.
It was a pretty quick two hours, no matter how you look at it.
Tomorrow promises to be interesting as well, as Dr Yang wants to demonstrate both 烧山火(Setting the Mountain on Fire) and 透天凉 (Penetrating Heaven Coolness) techniques, and maybe have us practice them on a patient. I still need to get the hang of needling without a guide tube, so I might try to find a way to practice that first.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
A Day in the Life
Time for the promised photo blog. This time, it's a somewhat-typical day based on photos I took over the course of about 24 hours. I have to preface this by saying that I spent a bunch of those 24 hours in my room sleeping this time, owing to a mild case of 拉肚子. (Translation not forthcoming, and I might have my characters wrong.)
Anyway, I think there's enough here to agglomerate a Saturday... I should be doing this again sometime, so I should get good pics of the other stuff as well.
The morning starts at about 6:15, when I wake up. At 6:30, Monday through Friday, there's tinny music being played over the loudspeakers, and people down at the athletic field are jogging or doing calisthenics which are presided over by loudspeaker as well, about ten minutes after the music starts, presumably to let people get there and so on.
As for me, I've started doing some stretches in the morning, or some version of the 气功 (Qigong) 八段锦 (Ba Duan Jin, usually translated as some variant on "Eight Brocades of Silk"). Then a shower, and...
Breakfast of champions! Actually, I had some black sesame porridge along with the pomelo (I ate the whole thing, not just the two pieces you see here.)
This, or something like it, makes up about half my breakfasts. The other half of the time, I get breakfast from a street cart, so it's usually something with eggs, wrapped in bread. Either way, it's pretty decent, and pretty filling.
Then, I walk downstairs, out the door, and next door to the hospital. Say what you like, but the commute ain't bad, even if there are people giving me funny looks because of the 美国人 (Meiguoren, "American") walking into the clinic wearing a lab coat.
So I think I've already reasonably described the experience in clinic, so far. Starting on Monday, things might be different.
This is a picture of me and 王医圣 (Dr. Wang) in the clinic after work on Saturday. One of the patients was particular about dressing the photo with the little bamboo plant that usually hangs out by the sink.
And yes, I've seen other pictures of him, and that IS the smile he uses for photos. In clinic, though, he jokes and laughs and points a lot. He's pretty expressive, even for those of us who have become (in the words of one person I'm corresponding with) instant illiterates.
So the day -- the morning, anyway, but on Saturday, that's the entire work day -- is over, and it's time to go get some lunch. Today, I'm walking across campus to the school gate, where there's a little alleyway with a few street carts. They get a lot of students, and the food is reliably pretty good.
Here's me with one of my fellow interns, whose English was only a little better than my Chinese. Nevertheless, we managed to make plenty of jokes to one another, ask for help when it was needed, and so on. It might have taken a while, but -- especially when the Not-Russians were around -- it was welcome relief.
And this is me with my friend 王婷 (Wang Ting), whose English and my Chinese were just compatible enough that we communicated quite well. She's helped me get around, figure things out in the city, and so on... and encouraged my Chinese, just as I've helped her practice English.
She's thinking about studying abroad, and maybe she'll end up going to the US. She has an uncle in Boston, so if she goes, she'll probably end up going there.
Ting and I share a love of food, so we've had lunch together a few times, and went to dinner (the aforementioned Sichuan place) once. Not today, though... she already had plans once she got home.
Incidentally, the painted and carved rock in the background is pretty typical of the school -- there are about a dozen that I've seen -- and I've seen them also at the main University of Tianjin.
Food now procured, I decide to take the stairs up to my room. I do this probably about three times a day, unless I've got a good reason to take the elevator.
Anyway, I think there's enough here to agglomerate a Saturday... I should be doing this again sometime, so I should get good pics of the other stuff as well.
The morning starts at about 6:15, when I wake up. At 6:30, Monday through Friday, there's tinny music being played over the loudspeakers, and people down at the athletic field are jogging or doing calisthenics which are presided over by loudspeaker as well, about ten minutes after the music starts, presumably to let people get there and so on.
As for me, I've started doing some stretches in the morning, or some version of the 气功 (Qigong) 八段锦 (Ba Duan Jin, usually translated as some variant on "Eight Brocades of Silk"). Then a shower, and...
Breakfast of champions! Actually, I had some black sesame porridge along with the pomelo (I ate the whole thing, not just the two pieces you see here.)This, or something like it, makes up about half my breakfasts. The other half of the time, I get breakfast from a street cart, so it's usually something with eggs, wrapped in bread. Either way, it's pretty decent, and pretty filling.
Then, I walk downstairs, out the door, and next door to the hospital. Say what you like, but the commute ain't bad, even if there are people giving me funny looks because of the 美国人 (Meiguoren, "American") walking into the clinic wearing a lab coat.
So I think I've already reasonably described the experience in clinic, so far. Starting on Monday, things might be different.This is a picture of me and 王医圣 (Dr. Wang) in the clinic after work on Saturday. One of the patients was particular about dressing the photo with the little bamboo plant that usually hangs out by the sink.
And yes, I've seen other pictures of him, and that IS the smile he uses for photos. In clinic, though, he jokes and laughs and points a lot. He's pretty expressive, even for those of us who have become (in the words of one person I'm corresponding with) instant illiterates.
So the day -- the morning, anyway, but on Saturday, that's the entire work day -- is over, and it's time to go get some lunch. Today, I'm walking across campus to the school gate, where there's a little alleyway with a few street carts. They get a lot of students, and the food is reliably pretty good.
Here's me with one of my fellow interns, whose English was only a little better than my Chinese. Nevertheless, we managed to make plenty of jokes to one another, ask for help when it was needed, and so on. It might have taken a while, but -- especially when the Not-Russians were around -- it was welcome relief.
And this is me with my friend 王婷 (Wang Ting), whose English and my Chinese were just compatible enough that we communicated quite well. She's helped me get around, figure things out in the city, and so on... and encouraged my Chinese, just as I've helped her practice English.She's thinking about studying abroad, and maybe she'll end up going to the US. She has an uncle in Boston, so if she goes, she'll probably end up going there.
Ting and I share a love of food, so we've had lunch together a few times, and went to dinner (the aforementioned Sichuan place) once. Not today, though... she already had plans once she got home.
Incidentally, the painted and carved rock in the background is pretty typical of the school -- there are about a dozen that I've seen -- and I've seen them also at the main University of Tianjin.
Food now procured, I decide to take the stairs up to my room. I do this probably about three times a day, unless I've got a good reason to take the elevator.
There are really a lot of stairs going up the triangular stairwell. One side has 11 steps, another has seven... and the third side has the door.
Finally made it! So now it's time for a little reward...
Lunch! I've gotten my food and retreated to the comfort of my room, because it's actually a bit blustery and I don't feel like sitting outside. Tea in the blue thing on the right, and the bread is stuffed with grilled veggies (carrots and bean sprouts) and something that looks and tastes like about half of a hot dog, cut up. It's nothing special -- I might even venture to say that it's not really all that tasty. I don't think I'll go back to that cart. But for 4元, I'm not being picky.
A little post-prandial light reading. If it were a weekday, I'd be back in clinic at 2, but today's Saturday, so I'm off to see what else there is to do today.
Maybe I'll take a walk around and see what else is going on before I head to the Internet Cafe and check in with my blog and my e-mail. I like getting e-mail.
Looks like there's a baseball game going on over at the athletic field. Not that you can tell all that well, from this picture -- it's not as if it's a dedicated field or anything. I headed down to watch an inning or two. It wasn't terrible, though the pitching was, so there were lots of walks and passed balls. No chance to turn a double play on defense, since it was almost impossible to keep the runner on first.
Didn't matter anyway. The basic strategic mistakes were too numerous to mention here. I could only stand about an inning before I had to take off.
So, then I walked across campus. It takes up most of the city block -- it's about what you'd expect from a school of several thousand students. But very pretty, in case I haven't mentioned it before.
The center of the campus, shown here, is kind of quiet and open most of the time, except for quittin' time (when it's packed with students) and at night (when there are lots of folks taking advantage of the open area and playing badminton, or rollerblading, or whatever the hell else they do).
Here I'm facing the hotel, which you can see in the distance. I think you can see my room, but you know... it's one of those little squares you see in the right-hand part of the building. Not exactly exciting or anything.
On the way back, I walk past the restaurant that's in the hotel. I still haven't eaten here -- the one time I was going to, it had been booked out for a wedding. That was pretty cool, since there was a massive roar in the neighborhood, and when I went out the front of the hotel, it looked like they'd lit off about fifty pounds of firecrackers. Red paper everywhere.... firecrackers are cool. And common -- every time a new business opens, or a wedding, or sometimes I just think just because it's Tuesday. But these were the kind with sparkly bits of mylar in multiple colors inside, so the paper was pretty to look at. And, because it's China, it got swept up in a couple of hours.After that, the 拉肚子 had me in its grip, so it was pretty much back to reading and listening to music until I dragged myself out to dinner and went back. Not that I was miserable... I just didn't want to go out and do much. That's not exactly typical for me, but that's the way it was this evening.
I'll leave you with this video. I think it's self-explanatory.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Another week down....
It occurred to me about about noon today that my weekend, such as it is, starts a little later than most people's weekends do back home. I finished working in Dr. Wang's clinic today, Saturday, at about 12:15 or so. That's about 9:15 PDT on Friday, so most of you actually finished up your weeks before I did.
On the other hand, I have about two hours for lunch and Thursday afternoon off. Plus a two-minute walking commute. I'm not complaining.
Anyway, today was my last day in that clinic. I'll be going to a different clinic on Monday, working with someone else. While there weren't any teary goodbyes, I was bid a warm farewell, with an invitation to come back and chat, and was told that I'm a good guy, and will make a good doctor. Like I said, I'm not complaining.
In a previous post -- maybe even my last post -- I think I might have implied that Tianjin is provincial, or something like that. It's not, not at all... last night I went downtown to hit an import-heavy grocery store (more on that later), and got a good look at the main drag. It's a solid kilometer of neon lights, advertisements, and music, almost exactly what I imagined a shopping district in a major Asian city would be. Out here in the Nankai district, the western part of Tianjin... well, the construction and feel is kind of Western Addition (of San Francisco) -- large multiunit apartments, lots of storefronts, and not a little grubby. It's not bad at all -- but it was all I had seen of Tianjin. It does major-urban-downtown pretty well, too. One block off that main street, the side streets were just this side of the hutong I stayed in in Beijing, but since that was where all the restaurants were, I imagine that it's a cost-of-doing-business thing. Well, all the restaurants except for McDonald's, Pizza Hut, and KFC.
So why, you may be wondering, was I downtown trying to find an import-heavy grocery store? Well....
Part of it was pure curiousity, to be sure. But I've also found out that the water here completely destroys the lather I get when I want to shave. (For those of you who don't know, I wet-shave -- use a brush to put lather on my face. I've done it on and off since my mom's father passed away, and started again for pretty-much-keeps back in February.) I'll be building the lather in the bowl, add a couple of drops -- drops! -- of water, and suddenly the lather just breaks down and disappears. So I have to add more shaving lotion to the mix, and I'm using about twice as much as I'm used to. So I don't think I'm going to make it home before I run out of shaving cream -- that's the point. Anyway, I looked at Carrefour, and they only have foam-in-a-can. So I thought I'd look somewhere else.
没有。 (Meiyou, "do not have", a near-universal term for tough luck while shopping.) In fact, the place at Isetan didn't have any shaving cream at all. Several kinds of razor cartridges, facial products for men and women from four countries (US, Japan, Germany, and the UK), but nothing to lubricate a blade while it slides across your face.
There are some good bits coming from this. The first, most practical bit was the realization that men and barbers (the Venn diagram doesn't overlap completely) have been building lather with plain ol' soap for a long time, and I could probably manage that on my own. The other thing was that I got a good look at prices for some stuff in a supermarket that would compare favorably with a scaled-down Whole Foods. And what did I see? Chocolate -- decent chocolate, not Lotte -- starts at about 20元 per ounce, so a standard chocolate bar would be about $5 or $6. I could have gotten "Jamaican Blue Mountain" coffee (I don't trust anyone's claim to that label, just as I don't trust "Kona" -- both origins sell more than 100% of the actual capacity of the regions to produce) for 300元 per half-kilo, about $45. A pint of Haagen-Dagzs ice cream was 114元 -- an expensive splurge at more than ten bucks, to be sure. And a bottle of Veuve Clicquot was 836元, over $120.
I bought a little chocolate, just for grins.
On the other hand, pregnancy tests (right next to the razors, I couldn't miss them) were 15元, a little over two bucks, and the condoms (both American and Japanese brands) worked out to about 50 cents each, always in packages of 12 for some reason. (There's a joke here about Germans and the EU, which I won't repeat.) Guess there are priorities, and then there are priorities.
Anyway, I'm in the process of putting together another photo posting -- should be ready tomorrow sometime. Take care -- and for those who are the praying or "good thoughts" types, please do so for my friend Lizz. She's in the market for a new kidney again, and I'd really like her to find one soon.
On the other hand, I have about two hours for lunch and Thursday afternoon off. Plus a two-minute walking commute. I'm not complaining.
Anyway, today was my last day in that clinic. I'll be going to a different clinic on Monday, working with someone else. While there weren't any teary goodbyes, I was bid a warm farewell, with an invitation to come back and chat, and was told that I'm a good guy, and will make a good doctor. Like I said, I'm not complaining.
In a previous post -- maybe even my last post -- I think I might have implied that Tianjin is provincial, or something like that. It's not, not at all... last night I went downtown to hit an import-heavy grocery store (more on that later), and got a good look at the main drag. It's a solid kilometer of neon lights, advertisements, and music, almost exactly what I imagined a shopping district in a major Asian city would be. Out here in the Nankai district, the western part of Tianjin... well, the construction and feel is kind of Western Addition (of San Francisco) -- large multiunit apartments, lots of storefronts, and not a little grubby. It's not bad at all -- but it was all I had seen of Tianjin. It does major-urban-downtown pretty well, too. One block off that main street, the side streets were just this side of the hutong I stayed in in Beijing, but since that was where all the restaurants were, I imagine that it's a cost-of-doing-business thing. Well, all the restaurants except for McDonald's, Pizza Hut, and KFC.
So why, you may be wondering, was I downtown trying to find an import-heavy grocery store? Well....
Part of it was pure curiousity, to be sure. But I've also found out that the water here completely destroys the lather I get when I want to shave. (For those of you who don't know, I wet-shave -- use a brush to put lather on my face. I've done it on and off since my mom's father passed away, and started again for pretty-much-keeps back in February.) I'll be building the lather in the bowl, add a couple of drops -- drops! -- of water, and suddenly the lather just breaks down and disappears. So I have to add more shaving lotion to the mix, and I'm using about twice as much as I'm used to. So I don't think I'm going to make it home before I run out of shaving cream -- that's the point. Anyway, I looked at Carrefour, and they only have foam-in-a-can. So I thought I'd look somewhere else.
没有。 (Meiyou, "do not have", a near-universal term for tough luck while shopping.) In fact, the place at Isetan didn't have any shaving cream at all. Several kinds of razor cartridges, facial products for men and women from four countries (US, Japan, Germany, and the UK), but nothing to lubricate a blade while it slides across your face.
There are some good bits coming from this. The first, most practical bit was the realization that men and barbers (the Venn diagram doesn't overlap completely) have been building lather with plain ol' soap for a long time, and I could probably manage that on my own. The other thing was that I got a good look at prices for some stuff in a supermarket that would compare favorably with a scaled-down Whole Foods. And what did I see? Chocolate -- decent chocolate, not Lotte -- starts at about 20元 per ounce, so a standard chocolate bar would be about $5 or $6. I could have gotten "Jamaican Blue Mountain" coffee (I don't trust anyone's claim to that label, just as I don't trust "Kona" -- both origins sell more than 100% of the actual capacity of the regions to produce) for 300元 per half-kilo, about $45. A pint of Haagen-Dagzs ice cream was 114元 -- an expensive splurge at more than ten bucks, to be sure. And a bottle of Veuve Clicquot was 836元, over $120.
I bought a little chocolate, just for grins.
On the other hand, pregnancy tests (right next to the razors, I couldn't miss them) were 15元, a little over two bucks, and the condoms (both American and Japanese brands) worked out to about 50 cents each, always in packages of 12 for some reason. (There's a joke here about Germans and the EU, which I won't repeat.) Guess there are priorities, and then there are priorities.
Anyway, I'm in the process of putting together another photo posting -- should be ready tomorrow sometime. Take care -- and for those who are the praying or "good thoughts" types, please do so for my friend Lizz. She's in the market for a new kidney again, and I'd really like her to find one soon.
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