Alright! My visit to New York City is drawing to a close and this will likely be the last entry I write on this side of the continent. Tomorrow, I return to Seattle, where rain is forecast for the next five consecutive days. (Though I now have a New York-purchased umbrella to add to my armamentarium.)

Further commentary about leisure and psychiatry in New York:

Dinner with a good friend at Chat and Chew. He’s the newly minted PhD (who still bursts into sarcastic laughter whenever people address him as “doctor”) who relocated from Seattle. Throughout our evening together, he intermittently commented about our presence in New York. Never before had we shared conversations while dashing down the subway stairs, lurching about in the subway cars, or squeezing past the throngs of people in Union Square.

In Seattle, he was exceptionally well-liked (and interpersonally effective) with waitresses—it’s not that he was flirting with them, but he did amplify his charm. I had asked him in the Emerald City how and why he had adopted this behavior.

“I’m from Philadelphia,” he had explained, “and on the East Coast, you kinda have to work harder to get nice service from the wait staff. This is what I did there, and it’s just easier here in Seattle.”

Though my experience with wait staff on the East Coast is limited, I have seen evidence during this trip that supports his assertion. Particularly with the waitress we had that night at Chat and Chew. She seemed particularly irritable.

Inspected my (above) friend’s new apartment. It’s small, but cute and cozy. I must confess that the thought of looking for housing myself in Manhattan (should I end up in New York next year—again, won’t say anything with confidence until I receive a written contract) makes me want to prescribe potent hypnotics for myself. (Of course I’m kidding.)

The fifth and final interview! I actually had six interviews scheduled… and I cancelled the last one because it is not located in Manhattan. Since I have received such warm enthusiasm from several of the Manhattan programs, an interview at an institution that I do not plan to attend seems to be an ineffective use of time for everyone involved. (The snarky reason is “I can’t take it anymore.” My reasons for pursuing this subspecialty of psychiatry has been scrutinized from various angles and though I am glad that these interviews have confirmed my career decision, I am weary of talking about it.)

Although I have been interviewing for fellowship positions in consult-liaison psychiatry, this trip has been highly educational in learning about how psychiatric education occurs in New York City (versus Seattle). For example, many of the programs I interviewed at mandate that the residents rotate through the consult-liaison service as fourth-year residents (which is the final year of psychiatric training). In Seattle, we rotate through this service as second-year residents, so that we know how to do consultations while we are on call. It sounds like these fourth-year residents in New York still see consults on call even as junior residents… and, thus, they are apparently seeing consults without having much experience as to how to proceed. It’s a bit odd. If not a bit concerning. (This can also explain, however, the potential lack of enthusiasm these fourth-year residents have in pursuing a consult-liaison fellowship—many of these programs do not have internal candidates. Apparently, the culture in New York City also promotes jumping directly into private practice upon graduating from residency. I also get the sense that many of these private practices have a psychodynamic/psychoanalytic bent.)

I also now have a better understanding as to why some people insisted on asking me the very broad question, “Tell me about yourself.” How could I forget that I am in one of the psychoanalytic centers of the world? Perhaps that isn’t totally fair—”tell me about yourself” is a fair question, just a difficult one to answer. Does one want to know about my career objectives? my past learning history? my family? my educational experiences? my preoccupation with cookies? my opinions about fashion, politics, and food?

In psychodynamic therapy (under which falls psychoanalysis), a usual tenet is to allow the patient to open the session with what is on her mind. Think of the couch: Someone lays down and just begins talking.

Thus, the question “tell me about yourself” may actually mean “How do you define yourself? Furthermore, how do you define yourself to me? Why do you think it is important for me to know this? What aren’t you telling me? Why did you start your answer with that topic?” etc. etc. etc.

You see, even psychiatrists do not necessarily feel comfortable talking to psychiatrists. (Though, after a while, you stop caring—psychopathology is in the eye of the beholder.) In one of my older (now removed) posts, I had quoted someone who said, “Many psychiatrists view psychoanalysts the way the general population views psychiatrists.” This is based off of the opinion that psychoanalytic work primarily assigns pathology to people (rather than focusing on strengths and effective coping), though this opinion isn’t necessarily fair.

I am eager to speak with my colleagues in Seattle about my trip. We get stellar training out there.

As for the actual last interview itself, I was late—the subway broke down and I was still thirty blocks from the hospital. What followed was a explanatory phone call (to an unimpressed man), delusional hopes that I could walk thirty blocks in twenty minutes, actually walking about fifteen blocks while trying to find a taxi (which leads to the adage of “There aren’t any cabs when you actually need one”), hopping onto a bus (which is a rather inefficient mode of transportation in New York), and then dashing across the hospital complex to the building in question to attend my first interview about fifteen minutes late.

(See above comment about “after a while, you stop caring”.)

Swing dancing. It’s not bad in New York City. The “big” weekly dance is held in an actual dance studio (long room with a mirrored wall) that happens to have a bar inside. It was fairly well attended—maybe about 100 to 125 people? Dancers of all levels were present. Good music, too—though, as the rumor mill had previously murmured, the music was generally slower (at mid-tempo) than the music in Seattle. Further differences:

• Not a lot of Charleston (probably because the music is slower)
• Greater ethnic diversity (which reflects the multiculturalism of the city)
• More proactive leads (that is, a fair number of men asked me to dance, despite having no idea who I am)
• Smaller dance scene here (Seattle is indeed spoiled when it comes to lindy hop)
• Women dress up more (most of them were wearing skirts and other “pretty” things; most of the women in Seattle wear casual chic things, including jeans)
• Higher cover (but whatever—it was reasonable)

Dancing is a universal language. The accents may differ a bit, but even as a complete stranger to the New York swing dancing scene, it wasn’t difficult to jump in. In fact, one might argue that my following improved as a result of this New York experience, since I am more accustomed to Seattle-style dancing and it is a little different in New York (leads in a region tend to lead similar patterns or execute their dancing in a certain style).

Of note, I was amused with the (very few) leads who were preoccupied with their own dancing. Because this club has a mirrored wall, these leads were obviously dancing with themselves (as they were observing themselves in the mirror) rather than dancing with me. (A lead doesn’t need a mirror to do this; I’ve certainly encountered this in Seattle, too.)

The day is young and I’ve got to figure out what I am going to do with my last day in New York City. It’s going to be so quiet when I return to Seattle.

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