A Word in Your Ear picks some great words for a weekly photo challenge. This week the word is “islands”. Here are some pictures from my first, and probably only, cruise.
The cruise left Fort Lauderdale and sailed to Puerto Rico, St. Thomas and St. Maarten. While the scenery was breathtaking, the three weeks following on land still feeling like I was on the ship was a slight deterrent for cruising again. Next time, I fly, I land, I enjoy….and I don’t have to take sea sickness pills on dry land.
This post was one of my earlier rants on another blog, but was brought to the forefront of my brain by a fellow blogger.
Before I get into the meat of this subject, I must address a couple of things. Number one – this post is in no way pointing the finger at all members of the medical profession, by any means. Number two – does it bother anyone else that this lofty vocation is referred to as “the practice of medicine”? After countless nights and days in school and residency, surviving on no sleep and horrible vending machine coffee, should you not be proficient at what you’re doing by now? Why are you still practising? And number three – last April my mom’s GP told us to prepare ourselves for the death of my mother which she estimated would be two weeks following our discussion. It is almost a year later and my mom is alive and well, still living in her home on her own and caring for 8 pets.
It is inevitable that each of us, at one point in our lives, will interact with a doctor. It is also undeniable that during that visit to the Oracle that is “practising” medicine, we will be subjected to a fairly lengthy wait period before we enter the inner sanctum of the office to discuss our concerns regarding our bodily functions.
After the obligatory check in at reception, we are forced to spend an elongated period of time inhaling the infinite number of germs swarming the cramped air space in the waiting room. Casually we glance at our watches as the seconds turn into minutes and the minutes continue to race past our scheduled appointment time. I understand that a doctor receives compensation for each patient seen on a daily basis, but somewhere along the way a few in the selected field of saving lives have forgotten that Hippocratic Oath that they vowed to uphold. One of the lines from that oath is this “I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon’s knife or the chemist’s drug.”
I fear that somewhere along the path, some practitioners of this art have lost that sense of warmth and sympathy and have replaced them with a pen and prescription pad. My co-worker had scheduled an appointment with her physician. She does not attend the office on a regular basis to leave room for those more in need of medical care. She had begun asking a series of questions that she had prepared and before getting the answers she so rightly deserved she was told by her own doctor that there would be no more answers. Her time was up. Her time was up? Was she on Jeopardy? And when did the clock actually start? I would hazard a guess that it began at her scheduled appointment time that had been casually overlooked.
Somewhere in the cyclical process of patients revolving in and out of the doctor’s door, a wedge has been driven between the care provider and those in need of care. A doctor is, by definition, a healer. Whether that healing requires physical care, psychological care or simply an understanding ear, the healing starts in those medical chambers.
With their depth of study and knowledge, it is customary that we take our doctor’s opinion at face value and trust that they have used every weapon in their arsenal to determine the cause of our illness and the best possible treatment available to extend our perpetuity. As much as we should put our faith in their doctrine, we have to be the advocate for our own health and seek a second opinion, because sometimes that five minutes of examination and diagnosis may not be enough to truly gauge the underlying reason for our concern.
In my growing number of years on this earth, I have encountered many doctor’s offices and a great many trips to a hospital, not all related directly to me and my personal health and well-being, but experiences that have given me ample opportunity to form an opinion. Occasionally I feel like these experts in the medical field have put up their borders long before we attempted to enter their inner sanctum and the time required to get a proper diagnosis is cut short.
Have you experienced anything like this, or am I out in left field?
Daily Prompt today is this – You need to make a major change in your life. Do you make it all at once, cold turkey style, or incrementally?
I have had a great deal of change in the last two years of my life. Because those changes deeply affected my life, they had to be well planned and contain a great deal of thought.
The first was the journey to lose weight. I didn’t want a quick-fix fad diet that would guarantee losing 10 pounds in 3 days, I wanted a lifestyle change and I wanted to be healthy. With a great deal of effort, I shifted my focus from ‘living to eat’ to ‘eating to live’ and it was worth doing it incrementally. I lost 50 pounds and have kept it off. Had I done the quick fix diet, I’m certain I not only would have gained the weight back, but increased my weight by a few more pounds.
The second major change was my divorce. I had slowly become a person I was never meant to be. I was drowning in a sea of bitterness and anger and those waves threatened to take any air that possibly remained in my lungs. The decision to end my marriage was a monumental change in my existence, and after many failed attempts at fixing that relationship, I had to admit that it was beyond repair. I left the broken pieces behind and slowly began rebuilding my life and rediscovering the happy person I once was.
Both of those changes deserved the time spent to follow through appropriately and go through the proper stages. I may have over-thought both of them for a while, but in the end, I am where I need to be.
She sat with her knees drawn to her chest watching the setting sun reflecting on the water. As day gave way to dusk, the horizon hungrily devoured the sun leaving behind a mélange of blood-red and fire-orange dripping onto the waves. His arms were wrapped around her and she could hear his breathing, rhythmic and calming as he lowered his chin to her shoulder. The waves eagerly lapped at the rocky shoreline, undulating their anchored kayaks with each ripple.
She let her head fall back onto him and inhaled deeply, savoring the pungent aroma of the smoke from the fire and letting it permeate her nostrils. He kissed her shoulder and got up from behind her. The moon had snuck up on the treeline and had begun to immerse itself in the night sky. The rock was illuminated by its brilliance and she turned to see where he had gone. He stood stoking the fire and she watched the sparks as they circled his body. She rolled onto her stomach, gazed at his face in the fire light and thought about how he enriched her life. She couldn’t imagine being without him and if time stood still, this would be the moment she would choose to freeze.
He laid down beside her and she curled into him. The wind tickled them as it playfully seduced their skin. The sounds of the night had returned to serenade them and the damp smell of the campfire continued to saturate the air. She could hear the waves teasing the shoreline, the amplified song of the frogs rippling in on the breeze and their boats harmoniously lapping at the water. She lifted her head and found him staring up at the night sky. Following his gaze, she become aware of the stars that had appeared in clusters and were dancing among the surging patches of Northern Lights. They lay in each other’s embrace, lulled by the sounds of nature and gently soothed by the luminescence of the sky. As the waning glow of the fire cast small shadows around them he reached behind him, pulling a blanket to cover them and she nestled deeper into his arms.
The moon continued its voyage through the sea of Northern Lights and they lay in silence, cloaked in each other’s embrace. She felt his lips on her forehead just as he slid the ring onto her finger. No words needed to be spoken. She lifted her head from his chest and he watched the single tear trace the curve of her cheek. She would be his forever.
Another post inspired by Edward Hotspur’s Romantic Monday.
It’s here!! It’s finally here!! The culmination of a great season of football and some hard-fought battles with the pigskin brings us to the moment that the Vince Lombardi trophy will be awarded. My efforts as “The Commish” in a 17-week long football pool and playoff pool also come to an end at the pinnacle of the football season.
Superbowl Sunday is one of my most cherished days of the year, and also one of my least favorite days. Although I plan my menu, don my football jersey and patiently wait for the final picks from the pool members, I instinctively feel sad because in a few short hours after kick-off it will all come to an abrupt end. For a brief moment, my football cup goes from half-full to half-empty but then the roar of the crowd brings me back to life and I’m ready to watch the battle that is about to ensue.
This year’s rivalry between Baltimore and San Francisco should be particularly exciting – the Harbaugh bowl. The pure, raw desire for each of these teams to reign supreme is evident on the field, but this year the competition has set brother vs brother on the coaching sideline. The deeply etched scars of the carnage on the field are proudly worn as badges of honor, but on opposite sidelines family honor is also up for grabs.
Superbowl Sunday has become one of the most anticipated sporting events. Last year, the game was rated the most watched television event ever, drawing over 111 million viewers. Even if you are not a dedicated football fan through the regular season, there is something so enticing about the spirit of Superbowl Sunday. Friends gather, tailgate worthy snacks, pots of chili, ribs and BBQ meals are prepared and served amidst screams of joy and derogatory comments towards the referees. A broad spectrum of emotion fills the room and the anticipation of the final minutes of the game is excruciating. And if your living room is anything like mine, there are a few well placed F-bombs!!
When the game is done, the trophy is presented and the celebration is carried on beyond the cameras, there should be a rehabilitation program for those going through football withdrawal. I admittedly feel a sense of loss and wander aimlessly on the Sunday following Superbowl, trying to overcome that loss. The sudden deviation to absolutely no football requires an intense effort to fill those weekend hours and I am forced to find sufficient entertainment to fill that void. Thank God for blogging!
But for now, I will focus on Superbowl XLVII – the throw down between the Ravens and the 49ers. It’s gonna be loud, it’s gonna be rough and it’s gonna be the Niners 34 and the Ravens 27. Happy Superbowl Sunday!!
I got to Guest Post on StuphBlog today. You should check out his Unshittiness if you haven’t already!
This post is for the new Trifecta challenge – For the weekend prompt we’re asking for exactly 33 words of dialogue.
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“It really is as beautiful as they said it would be.”
“Do you feel happy?”
“I feel a sense of peace I never had before . It really is Heaven.”
“I miss you, dad.“
I woke up in the wee hours of this morning and did what I do on the first day of every month – I repeated “white rabbit” three times (for luck), quietly said hello to my family and friends who have passed away and then I soaked myself in the happiness of January being over for another year. Although I am starting this new month with the stomach flu, I nevertheless feel a true sense of joy that we have bid adieu to January and the countdown to spring has begun. Guapola….how many more sleeps?
February, for me, has always had the feel of rebirth. The days become noticeably longer, the warmth of the sun starts to intensify and I eagerly anticipate pulling out the patio cushions on those really warm days to sit on the deck and inject my body with some much-needed Vitamin D. Knowing that March is just around the corner puts that “spring” back in my step.
(Photo courtesy of Google)
While this winter was nowhere near the level of difficulty of some winters passed, it still presented its challenges, but those hurdles just make me have more appreciation for the resurgence of warm weather and the promise of spring. From darkness to daffodils, we emerge from our winter cocoons to welcome the birth of the new season that lurks just around the corner.
Happy February everyone. What is your favorite part of spring?
polysyllabic profundities 