Monday 24 December 2012

An Adventure in Opening Boxes

I don't know if you are aware of Schrödinger's Cat. As I don't know, I will assume that you - my collective of reader/s - are both aware AND unaware of Schrödinger's Cat.

Schrödinger was a quantum physicist. No wait, come back... That part isn't particularly relevant. But it IS relevant that Schrödinger devised a thought experiment to help him explain an argument in his field of quantum physics. 

There is a cat in a box. The box is concealed and the cat is unobservable. There is a radioactive substance in the box, firing off atoms at random. If an atom hits the detector pad then a vat of poison is released, which the cat drinks and dies. If an atom doesn't hit the detector pad, the vat of poison is not released and the cat does not die. 

Here's the important part: due to the decay of radioactive material being unpredictable, the outcome of the experiment, (and the fate of the cat), is also unpredictable.


Presumably, Schrödinger did not own a cat. Or have experience of being in the company of cats. Or had never met a cat, at all, under any circumstances. If he had been more accustomed to the feline way, he would have known that neither of these conclusions were feasible. First of all, getting a cat in a box is a mission and, even then, it probably would claw it's way out, or 'nap' for a year until it succumbs to radiation sickness. Or else it would catch a baby bird and leave it to die on my doorstep, (because, against all odds, cats ALWAYS seem able to do that). Regardless, the end result would be the same and the cat would ultimately either be dead or alive*.

Schrödinger claimed that, as we cannot possibly guess an outcome, the cat must be considered both dead AND alive. That's not EITHER dead or alive, but actually existing in a living and very-much-not-living state simultaneously. Until you open the box and look inside, the mortal state of poor moggie has infinite possibilities, all of which are true. 

Yes really.

(Don't fret... Schrödinger was aware that this situation is a contradiction, and he devised it in part to illustrate that quantum physics and common sense are arch enemies.)

As a side note, you should know that Schrödinger's first name was Erwin. You should know this not because it is related to the aforementioned palaver, but because I don't feel that there are enough positive role models called Erwin in the world today.


So, what does this have to do with my life? Sadly, the box opening adventure of the title has nothing to do with my recent birthday or the imminent arrival of Christmas.

I was finally discharged from an Eating Disorders' unit last Wednesday. I had been struggling during my extended leave the previous week, and was asked by staff if I was ready for discharge. I said, "I don't know, but I have to try". Perhaps a better response would have been, "I need to listen to Schrödinger, because at the moment my future self is both coping and not coping with discharge, and I won't know if the cat is alive until I open the metaphorical box".

Or, maybe, in the interests of being allowed out of a psychiatric hospital "I don't know, but I have to try" was more appropriate after all.


Yours freely,

BT x
*Not to be confused with the cat being the band Dead or Alive. I don't know any cat who could pull off the Pete Burns look.

Monday 10 December 2012

An Adventure in Change

I don't do change. 

I do organisation. I do rules. I do plans.

Unknowns are the enemy, and preparation is my friend.

If I don't keep account of every variable in my life, it feels as though anything could happen.



This is what one psychiatrist referred to in my notes as "rigidity of thinking". (Although she may not be the most reliable source of information. In the very same notes, after being treated to a ninety minute interrogation, I was consistently referred to by the wrong name...) Rigidity of thinking is a common trait in those with Anorexia, and associated mental health problems - and it's a nightmare to live with.

Today, I was told that my "weekend" leave from hospital had to be extended for at least another 72 hours, due to infection. This is at least 24 hours after I had hoped to be discharged. This is obviously nobody's fault, but it's completely thrown me. I don't know what is going to happen with my treatment, whether I'll have the chance to say goodbye to staff and patients or, most importantly, when I'll be able to collect my knitting.

Whatever the outcome is now, my carefully placed safety net has been removed and I have to try my best to cope with the consequences. 

Wish me luck.
Yours in uncertainty,

BT x