The gray-haired Irishman walks around the wards quietly, avoiding eye contact. He touches the walls, as if to reassure himself of the world around him. He says very little, and the little that he says I find difficult to understand. I have been in England for only a month, and I assume it is his Irish brogue that I find difficult to follow. The consultant psychiatrist I am working with tells me otherwise. “It’s...
[Read More]