I’m charmed by this blog I found by a resident doctor of psychiatry in Baghdad Iraq, he really likes psychiatry and wants everyone to know it —
My interest in psychiatry backs to when I was in secondary school. I was enjoying reading whatever book I find. In those years, the 90s, Iraq was under embargo and poverty and ignorance was living with us, so it was very difficult to find a book that you want, instead you must find your way with the available books in the market. AL MUTANABBIE streat, named after the famous poet, was offering used old books. It was there where I found about many novels and books about diffirent sciences accedently. Many times I buy one book or two then found my self got no enough money to go back home, so I walk…..I was very thin!
.. and it was when I was 16 years old when I first bought a mini book in arabic discussing psychiatry and I read it in just few hours , may be minutes!
Of a similarly minded friend he says
the minute his father knew about his choice of studying psychiatry, his father told him: if you chose this branch of specialization, I will no more be your father!
So they’re cheerfully rebelling against cultural mores because
in Iraq, the picture of psychiatry is still not clear to people and many think that the psychiatrists themselves got some kind of mental illness.
It’s not a war blog, and that makes reading it such a sobering indictment of the war. He’s talking about his life. People live, they have lives. He’s in love with his work and musing on everything from evidence-based medicine to behaviorism v. phenomenology to reading by candlelight and this, while making rounds:
In the psychiatric ward a beautiful teenager girl lies silently in her bed. While me and Dr. Abbas were entering her room, she stayed still without motion, only her big beautiful eyes followed our entering. Her mother seems depressed and also did not move when we entered the room. The girl did not answer our greeting. We asked the mother about the problem. She told us that her daughter, who is mentally retarded had become mute again before few days. …We asked the mother about the last words said by her daughter. She told us that when they were coming to the hospital, a mini-bus had exploded just few meters beyond them and no shell had hit them. At that moment the girl said —
“mommy, if we were just few minutes late we would have been lucky to be dead both of us and get rid of our lives”
The blog hasn’t been updated since November. And I’ve got Throwing Muses on the stereo…
There’s always something to pray for
Ham-fisted good will
There’s always someone to pray for
And believe me I will
And believe me I will