Yearly Archives: 2013

Doctors with Borders

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This post was one of my earlier rants on another blog, but was brought to the forefront of my brain by a fellow blogger.

medical-symbol

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?

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

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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.

Forever – A Romantic Monday Post

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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.

Sunset

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.

Superbowl Sunday

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superbowl

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!!

Hooray, hooray, the first of February

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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.

spring-forward

(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?

Let it go

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It takes all kinds to make the world go ’round.  My mother uttered that phrase many times during my youth, but I never truly engaged that concept until I became much older.  Life happens and, whatever that happening may be, people experience it in many different ways.  Although that instance may not have negative connotations, for many it will affect them in a way in which they cannot move forward.  They dwell on that instance and it becomes far more of a dramatic scene than was originally intended.  That moment ulcerates their brain and they cannot accept it for what it was and simply move on, and they will remind you of that circumstance every chance they get.

I have never shared that mentality.  Much like the beginning of the Serenity Prayer, I accept the little things I cannot change.  For me, that moment of acceptance allows me to move forward and not dwell on insignificant details that don’t affect others around me.  It becomes a learning tool, and with that learning comes a moderate increase in wisdom.  But for some it is difficult to let it go.  Although I can empathize with their initial reaction, I cannot understand how some people allow simple events to turn into situations of catastrophic proportion.

Those jagged barbs of bitterness are nourished and the anger grows into a withering garden of resentment.  For the unsettled mind, continuing to point the blame is the only course of action that will assuage their anger.  But they are only making life more difficult than it need be.  And those difficult people only make me realize more and more the person I choose not to be.  I don’t want to hold onto that moment.  I don’t want to let it permeate my thoughts and affect my mood.  I want to take it for what it was and let the rest of my life unfold without holding onto unwanted anger.

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Choosing how to deal with those moments, for me, is like flipping a coin.  If I choose heads, I can process the moment, learn from it and move on.  If I choose tails, I will chase that moment in circles until I am exhausted and the end result will still be the same.  Thankfully the coin I toss has two heads.

 

One Day – Weekly Challenge

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This story was written for the Weekly Challenge based on the photo below.

couple-embrace

Photo courtesy of Cheri Lucas.

One day someone will walk into your life and make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else.  The small plaque etched with those words seemed to burn the phrase into her hand.  She read the words repeatedly as if creating the mantra in her head.  Her thumb continually grazed over the profoundly meaningful sentence.

With her culinary degree in one hand and a collection of personal items she had kept at the school in her other hand, Audrey stepped into the street car for the last ride back to her flat.  She marveled at the warmth of the day as she watched the now familiar buildings pass by her window. Studying in a foreign country had been a daunting task, but one she threw herself into with great passion.

The street car wove its way along the tracks, stopping precisely on time at each stop.  He entered the car, lost in a sea of tourists, so she didn’t notice him immediately.  The group’s constant chatter seemed to rise and fall like a wave throughout the car, drowning all other sounds as they excitedly took in the sights.

Moments after the car had continued its journey, his voice rose above the tumult of the excited tour group and she caught brief strains of the song he was absent-mindedly singing aloud.  He was completely absorbed in his newspaper, his head phones drowning out the cacophony of the outside world, but she could decipher lines from the song Foolish Heart by Steve Perry. Although his song choice came as a surprise to her, the words fell gently on her ears and she leaned into his melody, closing her eyes to focus only on the sound of his voice.

The street car stopped and her eyes fluttered open.  Any noise in the street car had been extinguished and she felt his gaze on her before she looked up to meet his stare.  No words were spoken.  She smiled demurely and lowered her head slightly, embarrassed to be so caught up in his gaze.  The words of the song found her ears again and he continued to serenade her on the street car. She met his eyes once more and they remained locked on each other until he finished the song.

The feeling of floating was interrupted as the ride seemed to come to an abrupt stop and the tour group exited the car.  He looked longingly at her, smiled and left the street car, paper in hand and humming another tune.  The street car lurched forward, but she knew she couldn’t remain on the car and just let him walk away.

“Wait”, her voice penetrated the air and the street car stopped.  She gathered her bag and her diploma and jumped onto the street.  He had a head start, but she caught up to him and tapped his shoulder.  He turned with a startled expression that warmed without hesitation when he realized it was her.  Not a word was spoken as she fell into him.  His arms circled around her and they stood motionless.

As the street car finally gained momentum up the hill, the plaque remained on the seat where she had been only moments ago.  Someday, someone else would need to read those words, but her one day was today.