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funny. I thought it less so but the story brings back memories of a very satisfactory time in my life.
    Indian Curry
    The same professor and his wife threw a dinner party for the department one evening. His wife was from India and she had just received a shipment of Indian foods and spices. The table was laden with delicious looking foods, some of which looked as if they might be very hot and spicy. My exposure to this cuisine was minimal up to then. Before long I was in need of something to counteract the hot spices in the food I was eating and I spied a small dish of what looked like pineapple preserve. Just the ticket I thought and I put some on my plate and ate a small forkful. Well, I thought I would burst into flames! I had never before experienced anything so hot. I couldn’t just spit it out so I swallowed it and then had to dab my eyes which were tearing heavily by then. All this transpired without anyone noticing except my wife who kept still until she found what the outcome of my discomfort would be. Eventually, with enough water—I knew it was water—and some other non-spicy items, I recovered. Ever since however, I have been very careful when sampling unknown foods especially garnishes and side dishes as when my present employer, also from India, takes me out to the Indian restaurant for lunch. He is always very good about pointing out the “safe” foods.
    Statistics
    Sometime during my junior year in medical school, the class was informed that a statistics class was going to become part of the curriculum and would be mandatory. Calculus had not been a requirement for medical school in those days as it is now. I doubt that some of us, including me, would have become doctors. No prior discussion except to express our horror took place among my classmates to my knowledge. However, no one showed up for the class when it was first scheduled and not for the second scheduled time either. The idea of a statistics class died a quiet death. Naturally, I had classmates who were already good at statistics and we all had to learn some of the subject as we continued our studies, so important are statistics in the medical literature.
    Psychiatric Interviewing
    In Wing R, as the psychiatric building was called, was a classroom with a one-way glass wall. Here, the part of the class rotating through Psychiatry would sit while a classmate interviewed a real patient. Afterward, the class and the professor would critique the session. Of course, criticism by one’s peers is often more anxiety provoking than that of the professor, but not being able to see the class was of some help. While I don’t remember the content of my interview, I do remember the class discussion afterward. I did fairly well as did most of us, having been trained extensively in history taking (the most important part of any medical exam). One fault about my technique did come up which I never forgot and about which I would often think in my medical career. It seemed that I tended to put a little more physical space between me and the patient than was necessary, perhaps leading to a feeling of aloofness or, worse, disinterest on my part. Not what I intended nor the way I felt, but still in need of correction.
    One of the teaching exercises we were assigned in psychiatry was to follow certain patients and to interview their families. There didn’t seem to be too much trouble getting the family of my patient together so we all met one evening in a small conference room. (If one did not have prior experience conducting a meeting this was a fast way to learn for sure.) I was amazed at the insights the family members had into their relative’s troubles. Nowadays of course, medications would probably have kept him out of the hospital, but that course was not open to us then. So, we spent an hour discussing what the patient’s problem was, how he got that way, what family members could do about it and what his care would consist of once he was discharged.