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Chapter 2
The Crisis Intervention Program (1965-66)
Thus, from my own crisis of sorts, at the end of my residency, I arrived at the Crisis
Intervention Program (CIP). One of the first things I observed that struck me was the hub of
the staff's and fellows' activities-a converted farmhouse in the center of the town of
Wellesley, Massachusetts. Unobtrusive, fronted by trees and sprawling lawns, it was, indeed,
"home," as I soon came to recognize. My actual residence, however, while I was at the CIP,
was a "studio" type apartment in Boston. From this base, I was to commute to work three days a
week in Wellesley, and spend two days a week in the Massachusetts General Hospital.
Feeling
set up, and in relative comfort, I joined with the Social Work and Psychology Fellows in
pursuit of crisis work. The term "crisis," I was to learn, was used generally-not because we
only dealt with people in a state of acute crisis.
At the CIP, I received supervision from
senior staff members of three disciplines-Psychology, Psychiatry, and Social Work. The
Fellow in Social Work was Japanese, and, together, we were among the few Asians in my new
professional arenas. I was especially excited by the "team" situation in which I was engaged,
and considered it a rare treat that marked the beginning of a lifelong credo for me-team
discipline. I thought, "What a wonderful thing, that crisis could be resolved by multiple
voices rather than by a single decision-maker." This idea was to come in very handy much later
in my career, when I was to work with the Mobile Crisis Unit of Gouvernor Hospital in New York
City.
An example of the community-based work we did involved a public school teacher and one
of her students. While providing consultancy services to an elementary school, we learned that
a teacher reported her concern for a new pupil. She was afraid that he was being taunted by
other classmates. The new boy was diminutive, shy and somewhat awkward. We discovered,
however, after several visits to the school, that this particular teacher, herself short and
small-framed, also was new to the school; and that she, too, was somewhat concerned about her
own adjustment to the school.
In an encouraging fashion, I said to her that, in time, the
bashful boy most probably would get along with other boys and girls. She listened and seemed
to relax herself. Close to the end of the school year, this teacher thanked us, saying the boy
had finally adjusted. How extraordinary this seemingly simple case was, for, in truth, I was
treating a case of identification: the teacher completely identified with her pupil!
During
this period of time, I was assigned to a second program that brought out, initially, some
anxious moments in me. This program called for two nine-week sessions with the freshman
student nurses of a general hospital. The first series began in September and the second in
April. I gently moved along with the group, first casually talking and then graphically
expressing the many fears of entering the hospital: the isolation from family, the sight of
blood, the screams of demanding patients, the possible confrontation with the chief nurse. All
of these things, I explained, are likely to arouse apprehension.
What I had not anticipated
from the group were the varied kinds of reactions to my talks. I soon realized that I was, in
fact, sharing with the students my own anxiety. How was I to tame everyone's feelings this
way? I noticed in myself some of that public school teacher, discussed above, who shared the
fears of her new pupil. Was it the fellowship's aim for me to handle my own crisis as well as
the students' crisis, and, therefore, learn from the exposure and experience? This teaching
role was clearly new to me, and I saw I had much room for improvement.
The second series of
meetings with the student nurses, the following April, stood in sharp contrast to the first;
it evoked from all of us a joyous sense of liberation, akin to climbing out of a cavern,
unscathed, after all. It was a magnificent way of sharing anxiety that ultimately brought
forth positive results and, often, ecstatic resolution.
Also during the same year, peripheral
to the Crisis Program, I met my first patients with alcohol-related problems at the
Massachusetts General Hospital's Alcohol Unit. The main thing I remember from my experience
there was a sense of frustration trying to gain the confidence of that insurmountable group.
They seemed content with their own beings and determined to prevent my "intrusion" into their
lives from taking root.
From that experience I gained appreciation for a principle, which the
Unit Chief then encouraged-to teach children how to drink responsibly. This activity should
be a lifelong task, but in practice it seems to be a novel idea. I muse about it today. Has
anyone spread the gospel effectively, I wonder?
My Own Citizenship Crisis
After my stay at the CIP, I received a letter from the Government
informing me that my five year-stay in the United States had expired, and I had to leave the
country! I had forgotten all about my temporary residency status as an "exchange student."
Wanting to at least remain near America, I called a former classmate from the Illinois State
Psychiatric Institute who had subsequently gone to McGill University in Montreal, Canada, and
asked if he knew of any positions available there. Fortunately for me, he solved my problem.
My friend said there was a position available and that I could have it! Thus, I would be able
to leave the U.S. but remain nearby.
I soon received a letter from McGill verifying my new
position. Dated July 14th, 1966, it read, in part, as follows:
Dear Doctor Chiu: I understand
that Dr. Kolivakis, who is a member of the Diploma Course in Psychiatry of McGill University,
has spoken with you by phone and that you have intimated to him that your preference would be
the Allan Memorial Institute for your first year of training on the Diploma Course. I am
writing, therefore, to confirm that we can offer you a residency, effective immediately, and
would request that you forward application forms sent in my earlier letter, as soon as
possible, direct to Dr. J. Gilbert Turner. This letter will serve as your letter of
appointment and you should present this to your local immigration office; we are forwarding a
copy of this letter to Mr. P. R. Charbonneau at the Department of Citizenship and Immigration
in Montreal, requesting that he forward direct to you Form IMM-466, which kindly complete and
return to them as soon as possible. If you have any problems concerning your entry into
Canada, please do not hesitate to contact me.
-Yours Sincerely, David J. Lewis, M.D.,
Coordinator of Postgraduate Education.
When I went to enter Canada, however, the Customs Officers refused to believe me about my
appointment; they didn't find the letter convincing enough. So they called the hospital to
confirm my position, and then let me through. That began my McGill period.
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