This spring I was moving out four years of piles and stacks
When I remembered you and I sitting
On chairs plastic and aged like primordial rock
That asked for two hands to give.
In a locked room within a locked room
Frigid air formed our breath
Befitting the coastal Long Island town
I always thought I’d lose the key, it wasn’t mine
Like the questions of a print out
I can’t seem to look away from
This map towards multi-step assessments and protocols
Wants a fifth iteration of your story
You smile with pearls for teeth shining under your hoodie
Because I have a key and I have a badge
That day you were walking down the street to the tracks
Wondering if the ritualistic commuter would stop for you too
Instead turned toward the stray cats calling
And you were glad
In that moment I felt a strong desire to become a cat person
Who also conducts trains and rewrites childhoods and the past
Instilling love so solid like earth
Instead I nod to the following section
Asking for any allergies to food or medications
This is my first time fishing
My rod does not yet know
Time and experience will shape its curve
Over sea that can tumble rocks and stand still for a fly
Awaiting seasoned catches of words and states of partnership
At least for now
I could tell you of a riddle
From my fifth grade teacher
I’ve mulled over for years
Poet’s Statement
This poem is about my first interview with a patient diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. I was a third-year medical student on my core psychiatry clerkship. I remember asking my patient a list of questions I had practiced, with a personal goal to conduct a thorough psychiatric review of systems, and thinking how my questions felt like they were asking for so much vulnerability from my patient. I remember feeling the weight of her pain of not wanting to live, and feeling uncertain of what words I could say next that could offer relief. As I stumbled through this initial encounter—which would over time lead to one my most rewarding patient relationships—I began learning how psychiatry is a dynamic field of transference and countertransference, of giving and receiving on both sides. I am learning that my patients and their experiences will inevitably evoke strong emotions in me, as well as the importance of acknowledging my own responses to patients’ stories, pausing and reflecting, and entering each interaction with patients fully present to their reality.
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Hong, S. First Time Fishing. Acad Psychiatry (2024). https://doi.org/10.1007/s40596-024-01962-2
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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1007/s40596-024-01962-2