My Husband is an Evil Genius-OR-I'm EATING Your Cinnabons

Today I had an epiphany---My husband is an evil genius.

Every single morning, battle lines are drawn:

6:00 a.m.  I've been up for half an hour.  I call upstairs to my 15 year old son who has 45 minutes to get up, get dressed, eat, and get ready for me to take him to school.

6:10 a.m.  I call again.  "Tom, get UP!"
               "I'm UP. Leave me alone."   Deafening silence ensues.

6: 15 a.m  "GET UP!" I'm leaving in 30 minutes WITH OR WITHOUT YOU."
                                             Nothing.

6:30 a.m.  I'm out of the shower, fed, caffeinated and putting the final touches on my makeup, searching for my cell phone and keys, and putting on my boots.
          "I'm leaving in 10 minutes!"

Sudden crashing of feet on the floor, a flurry of activity with a smattering of cursing which I pretend not to hear, and IT IS ALIVE and IT is in a foul mood completely directed towards me.  IT is mad because IT doesn't have time to eat and we end up in an argument because I'm super irritated that IT has the GALL to be mad at me.

************

THIS morning was different. It went like this:
I got up at 5:00 a.m. so I could do some paperwork for work.  I decided to make Pillsbury Cinnabons.  

6:00 a.m.  I call to get my son up.  I tell him about the Cinnabons. (yummy!)  I figured it would be magical bribery and would rouse him from his sleep. The wafting of the cinnamon-y goodness had already gotten my husband out of bed.

6:10 a.m.   Still no movement and now I'm peeved.  "Get your butt down here right now!"




Husband intervenes.
"That's not the way to do it.  Watch this."  He grinned evilly and I swear he said, "Muuahhaawww!"

"Hey Tom.  If you don't come down right now, I'm going to eat your Cinnabons."
CRASH. BAM. BOOM!  I'll be darned, but it WORKED.  Down he came, at light speed, dressed and ready to take on any potential Cinnabon thief.

"You gotta know what motivates your audience!" is my husbands response to my  raised eyebrow and query as to how he worked this strange magic.

Now I can hear you thinking, "He wouldn't really eat the Cinnabons, would he?"

"Darned straight, I would!" replies my husband to your well thought out question. "It's the Hereña rules."

Let me explain. Early on in our marriage, I learned that since my husband grew up in family with five children,  there were no leftovers--EVER.  If you didn't make it to the table in time for dinner, your portion would disappear. Vanish.  GONE.  Adios.  Make a PB and J and call it a day. 
If you tried to save something in the refrigerator for later enjoyment,  good luck with that because one of the other members of the family would eat it.

"How," you ask, "Did you learn this?"

WELL,  early in our marriage, I left some leftovers in the fridge for three or four days, went to retrieve them and--they were GONE.

"I thought you didn't want it.  You hadn't eaten it, so it was fair game," stated my husband.

We stored our Anniversary Wedding Cake in my mother-in-law's freezer after our wedding. Juan went to retrieve it and it was gone.  Rob, his brother, thought it was fair game and ATE THE WHOLE THING (not that I hold grudges or anything).  I was mad. Juan was philosophical. It was the Hereña Rules at work.

It got me thinking.  How do I motivate my PATIENTS to do the things I need them to do, like SHOW UP for appointments, take their medications, exercise, cut out salt and sugar?
Heck, How do I motivate anyone to do anything?  It was clear, my husband had a leg up on me on this point.

Some of my attempts at improving compliance with treatment included the following:

 Education,  often met by a glazed sheen in my patient's eyes. Come to think of it, it's the same look Tom and El get when I'm off on a "lecture."

Cheerleading--Instead of fussing at people because they haven't reached their goals, I  encourage them to keep trying.  Often this tactic works. It makes people more likely to come back too, since it's positive reinforcement instead of fussing at people and making them feel bad.  I consider a return visit a coup in and of itself.  I actually do a "Happy Dance" if they reach a goal.  It makes people smile.


Negative reinforcement or"yelling" at people.  I point out all of the bad things that will happen to them if they don't do what they should for their health.  For example, the end of the world as we know it, fire and brimstone, cats and dogs living together, etc. Sometimes that works.  When I point out to women that smoking causes premature wrinkling, that motivates them to stop. Cancer? Not so much.  Wrinkles? Yup.  Go figure.

Sometimes, all that will work are the Hereña Rules.

If a patient has not followed up, I threaten to hold their medications hostage.  Then, if they still don't come in for follow up, I do it.  I won't refill their meds.  It's a last ditch effort, after phone calls, letters, and plain old begging  haven't worked to get someone in for their follow up appointment.

I HATE doing it.  I will do everything in my power to avoid it.  I don't WANT people to run out of medications, but I HAVE to monitor their meds, and their side effects.  If someone doesn't come in for followup, I don't know if the meds are working, or if their kidneys or livers are in trouble, or ANYTHING!  It's really scary.  I'm responsible for my patient and I want them to be healthy.

Soon a frantic phone call will come in.  "DoctorDiva won't renew my meds!"

I say, "Tell them to schedule an appointment and I'll give them enough until they come in."

Works every time.   Take away their Cinnabon, and Voila! 
Hereña Rules. 
My husband is an Evil Genius.

Frostbite, STDs and Teenage Butthead-ery

I was thinking about how incredibly cold it's been here in Chicago, (No, I will NOT call it Chiberia).  A post on hypothermia and frostbite came to mind, specifically because my teenaged son was being a butthead and refusing to heed our warnings about flash frozen fingers and frostbitten faces and ears.  My husband showed him some photos of gangrenous fingers, toes and ears and he got the message and wore gloves, a hat, and a scarf, but not without some gross pictures..

Then I saw Alexander Skarsgard in all his naked glory on the portable toilet in Antarctica.  What a great segue!  I heard it was warmer in Antarctica than it was in Chicago earlier this week.  Go figure.

 

 So I asked my husband how he thought of showing my progeny pictures to convince him to use gloves, and he said, "A picture is worth a thousand words."  He told me about how when he was a kid, his father, a surgeon, had a medical textbook with a picture of Pian disease or Yaws in it.  It so terrified my husband, he was so affected by it,  that he wouldn't go within 10 feet of his father's textbooks of medicine for years. (And yet, he became a pulmonary and critical care subspecialist.  Go figure.)

Tertiary YAWS/Pian disease:

THAT got me thinking.  Boys do not heed adult advice.  At least, that's been my experience.  They have to make their own mistakes, or make up their own minds about something.  All my kid hears from me is:  "Blah, blah, blah, Are you listening to me?  I'm telling you to blah, blah, blah..." and so on.

Pictures.  That's the ticket.

So, here's what I'm going to show him to prevent him from having unprotected sex and getting STDs.

Tertiary syphilis causes horrible disfigurement, and some of the pics were even too gross for me to show.  I plan to show him pictures of primary syphilis with ulcers on the penis, secondary syphilis with the rash all over, and pictures like this with the nose disfigured.


Lymphogranuloma venereum or Chancroid:
A lovely little infection caused by a chlamydia that causes massive swelling of the lymph nodes in the groin, which can open up and ulcerate.

And speaking of chlamydia (and gonorrhea):

The pictures of the penile drip are too gross to put here.  But trust me.  He'll see them.

Then there's GENITAL WARTS.
I've gotten him vaccinated against HPV, the virus that causes them, and I'm hoping that it works, but just in case he's attempted to go scuba diving without a wetsuit, I'll show him this, but on the penis:

I'VE seen this too many times to number.  It is devastating and difficult to treat.  The topical medications hurt, and the aftermath of surgery to remove large accumulations is painful too.  Plus, these lovely little warts cause cancer of the cervix, cancer of the anal-rectal area, cancer of the throat and mouth and voicebox.

Herpes Happens.
Herpes can happen ANYWHERE on the body.  Cold sores are from herpes.  Herpetic whitlow is a herpes infection of the finger.  Imagine if this was your penis or vaginal area instead.  Ugh. That's gotta hurt.

Of course, there is the big Momma of STD's, HIV/AIDS.  There is no one picture to show the horror of that disease.  I was a resident and student in the late 1980's early 1990's and I saw entirely too many people die from horrible awful complications of that disease.  I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.  I saw brain and lung lymphoma from it, Kaposi's sarcoma, blindness, terrible secondary infections from PCP pneumonia or even run of the mill bacterial pneumonia that decimated the patients who had no immune system left to fight off the diseases that ordinary people either wouldn't get, or could fight off.  

That will be a whole topic unto itself of photos and stories to prevent his not wearing a raincoat on his johnson. 

So, somehow my blog on hypothermia morphed.  But Hopefully, some other mom somewhere will show her kid gross memorable pictures of the reality of sexually transmitted diseases, and prevent it from happening to their child. 

Me and My Pressure Cooker

Okay, I'll admit it.  I love new gadgets.

I've always been afraid of pressure cookers, though.  My Mother in Law makes the best red beans  EVER in one, and I thought, well, I needed one.  My research scared the bejesus out of me though. Those things are DANGEROUS.

So I got other gadgets first.

The bread maker.  Sitting on a shelf right now, unused.

The big huge Kitchen Aid mixer thingee that is too big to leave on the counter, and too heavy to carry to the counter from the mud room.  My husband loves it though, and just got a meat grinder attachment for it.

A mandoline.  I'm terrified of the darned thing.  I don't have any suture material at home, just in case...and honestly, I like my fingertips.

Various lemon juicers.  I have an electric one.  It is dying.  I have one that sits on a bowl.  Too much elbow grease involved.  I do like this one:

 

Blenders:  They always disappoint me.  I like to make pesto, and cheese based Peruvian dishes and it just isn't strong enough.  Plus, I hate all of the stupid parts, especially the rubber ring thing.  I'm forever losing it.

Hand choppers:  Really?  They aren't really all that great.  They massacre the onions and garlic by mostly crushing them. 

Food Processors:  Again with the zillions of parts.  Unless you really need to shred a bunch of carrots, or cheese, it's almost not worth all of the clean up.  I do like these better for pesto, though. 

 

So, I finally bit the bullet and saw a 6 or 8 qt pressure cooker on sale for twenty bucks at K-Mart (or "Le-Mart" as I like to call it.) I figured twenty bucks was not so much that I would be devastated if I hated the thing. 

It was love at first use.  

I read and re-read the instructions obsessively so I wouldn't blow up my kitchen. 

I started making beans-from dried.  NO TIME AT ALL!! and SOFTER!  The seasonings got INTO the beans, and I used MUCH less salt or NO salt, compared with canned.

Rice--brown rice is better and quicker.  White rice, not so much.

Apple cake. Yum. 

Tamales take NO TIME. Did you know you can put in a tray and STEAM stuff?

Pot Roast.  With really tough meat.  30 -60 minutes.  WOW!

Steel cut oats that are SOFT?  Amazing. 

Soon, I needed a bigger pot.  I wanted to make corned beef.  LOTS of corned beef.  So I bought a canner sized pressure cooker.  It is HUMONGOUS. 

Wow.  

So now I'm addicted to my pressure cooker.  

Hoppin' John for New Years Day (It's good luck to eat black eyed peas and ham on NewYear's Day) took NO TIME.  I pressure cooked some smoked turkey necks first in water (the store was out of ham hocks) and soaked the peas for 4 hours or so in water.  I cooked them with some Country Ham (thanks Uncle Richard), onion, and garlic in the broth from the smoked turkey necks, with some meat from the necks.  OMG!

THIS gadget is getting good use.  I highly recommend getting one.  I found that a lot of Indian food is made using pressure cookers, and there are a zillion (okay, a lot) of YOU tube videos made by very talented Indian women, making yummy authentic Indian dishes with pressure cookers.  I love the internet.  

Sadly, since the Boston Marathon bombing, they are more difficult to find.

Sad, really.  

Pressure cookers save energy and time. They are eco-friendly and GREAT for Harried Last minute Moms and Dads trying to keep their heads above water.
AND cooking in a pressure cooker is healthy.
And it's more cost effective to use tougher cuts of meat, dried beans, whole grains, etc.
So go get one.
Start cooking!

 "Harried" brings up "Harriet" again and "Doctor Who" and since Captain Jack is really HOT and of course David Tennant is the BEST Doctor Who EVER, I decided to post this....

Paper Work and Phone Calls. A Day in the Life of a General Internist

Okay, So I was looking for pictures of a HARRIED DOCTOR and HARRIET from Doctor Who kept showing up.  Since I am a huge Doctor Who fan, I decided to put it up.  


A Day In the Life of a General Internist

People wonder what it is that doctors DO all day, what our lives are like.  They wonder why we seem so BUSY all the time and why we don't return phone calls personally, or spend 45 minutes with each and every patient.

 It's really hard to describe because the work changes daily.

The other day, for example:I was awakened at 12:30 a.m. with an admission from the ER of a patient with a small bowel obstruction.  I've known him for a long time, and was able to give information without even looking at the chart.  I gave orders to a nurse who clearly was brand new.  After I hung up, I thought to myself, "I know she's going to wait 20 minutes, until I've just fallen back to sleep, and call me with a question."   Sure enough, at 1 a.m., the phone rang again and it was the nurse.  Fortunately, I've gotten REALLY good at falling right back to sleep.

I wake up at 5:30 a.m. for quiet time and wake up my son and husband at 6 a.m.  While my husband walks the dog, I'll make us breakfast, then I shower, and get ready to take my son to school.

If it's my late day, I start later in the office but work until 7 p.m. seeing patients. 
I'll work at home all morning finishing up my charting from the day before.  Charting requires doing a bunch of bureaucratic stuff to allow the bean counters to count things you did in order to justify your charges.  It's not just writing down what the patient said, what you found on exam, and what you want to do.  You have to write down a lot more than that.  You have to  justify your time to the insurance companies.  You have to figure out a diagnosis code (now called ICD-9 but is going to expand to a huge number of codes with more specifics called ICD-10 this year--requiring even MORE time to chart) and figure out what "Evaluation and Management" code to use.  Those are codes that say how much work you did to charge the patient/insurance company. 

I work part time which means that instead of working over 100 hours a week, I work 40-50, 24 of which are spent in the office just seeing patients, and the rest is on the phone, on the computer, charting, answering questions, and trying to deal with the inch deep pile of paperwork that comes across the fax or computer daily. (Paper free?  HAH!!)

FOR EXAMPLE:  
Home visiting nursing orders.  These require me to periodically open up the chart and fill out a form for Medicare called the "Face to Face Encounter", to prove that I actually am seeing my patient and that they deserve to be in home care, and that I'm not committing Medicare Fraud.  It takes up to 5-10 minutes to fill out one of these forms and I get 3-4 a day.  I hate the Face to Face forms.

Physical therapy orders.  Written in another language, all acronyms.  I have to read and sign these.  

Xray reports.  I have to read, decide whether they need further action, and either call the patient myself if it's complicated or worrisome, or write a note to the staff to call the patients with results/instructions.

Lab reports.  I review these daily.  For diabetics, I have to enter the information into flowcharts on their charts.  Add 10 minutes each. Then I have to decide if I'm changing therapy based on the labs, write a note and either call or have the staff call the patient.  Half of my patients are diabetic.

Consult letters.  I have at least 5-15 of these a day to read.  Many have requests in them, like, "please send the latest labs or xray reports."  I have to do that.

Emails from patients, and notes through the charting system from patients.  I get about 10 of these a day.  Some are urgent, some are not urgent.  I can't answer all of them the same day.

FMLA forms:  I HATE these forms.  The companies use these now to make the patients justify why and how often they'll be sick in the future.  I'm supposed to GUESS how often a patient is going to need to be off work based on a diagnosis.  If I'm wrong, the patients get penalized and I have to REWRITE a form with new guidelines.  I have 2-3 a week of these.  These take 20-30 minutes each to fill out.

Disability forms:  These come in many flavors.  There are short term forms for works, long term forms for work, State forms, Medicare SSI forms, Credit card forgiveness forms, etc.  I hate these too.  They all take 15 -30 + minutes to fill out.  

Handicapped driver placard forms:  These require me to open the chart up, search through it for diagnoses and reasons that someone needs a handicapped hanger or license.  These come in a flurry twice a year or so. If we give a placard or license plate to someone who doesn't qualify, we can get in big trouble. The criteria are very specific, and if the patient's health problems don't qualify, they cannot get one.

Phone calls. I get anywhere from 20-30 a day. Staff get calls from patients with questions.  With most, I can tell the staff what to tell the patient and the staff will call the patient back.  Some I have to call back.  Some INSIST that ONLY I call back.  Sometimes I HAVE to call people back because the issues are complicated or worrisome.  Sometimes I WANT to call back just to check in myself.  There are patients who NEVER call.  When they call, I worry. 

Seeing patients is my favorite part of the day.  What I really hate, is when my staff doesn't get my patient into the room in a timely fashion and makes me late through no fault of my own.  Guess who gets the grief?  You got it.  ME.  Now granted, there are times when I'm running behind because I've had a very complicated patient requiring extra time from me.  I ALWAYS apologize when I'm late, and make sure the next patient knows they'll get my full attention too.
Thinking about medical problems, trying to get to the real root of a problem, making complex diagnoses, these are the things I do best.  SOMETIMES there is a hidden agenda, like the patient is afraid they have cancer, but doesn't tell me.  I have to figure that out by LISTENING.  I love that part.  Listening, that is.

Listening entails WATCHING, HEARING, and NOT TALKING myself.  NOT thinking ahead of the next question to ask.  Lots of little clues are in the details of the story of the illness.

The electronic medical record is often a frustrating part of the visit for many of us now.  I can type as I listen.  I took typing in fourth grade (thanks Mom!).  The computer changed everything we do.  That is a whole 'nother post.

http://hudsonarealibrary.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/doctor-clipart.png

My Son. A Concussion Story.

December 7, 2013

Thursday afternoon I got a frantic phone call from my son who was incoherent and hysterically sobbing.    He had fallen and hit his head somehow and had absolutely NO recollection of what had happened.  I was driving home from work, and he was alone, sobbing, hysterical and terrified.  He was clearly very confused, and had NO short term memory.  He was unable to make new memories and kept asking me the same questions over and over. 
"Mom, am I going to be okay?"
"Mom, I don't remember coming to the phone.  I don't remember how I got to the phone.  I don't remember calling you .  I think I have amnesia." then hysterical sobbing. 
Then, "Mom, should I call 911?" 

Over and over again. 

I asked him, "Do you remember asking me that a minute ago?  What did I tell you?"  I was trying to figure out if he was just hysterical or if he really couldn't remember. 

He couldn't remember. 

I was freaking out.  Should I call 911 from the car?  Should I wait to get home?  He wasn't able to follow commands because he forgot what he was doing in the middle of the task-like getting ice. 

I kept him on the phone, talking, trying to hold it together for both of us, until I could get home and check him out. 

When I got home, it was clear he was in trouble.  He didn't know what month it was, what the last holiday was, where he went for Thanksgiving, or anything for the last week.  Worse, he couldn't form new memories at all. 

I called 911 and the EMT's/BLS (basic life support)ambulance came.  My husband came home around the same time.  The Basic Life support  ambulance upgraded him to ALS or advanced life support.  They took him to a local trauma unit.  My husband accompanied him in the ambulance and my terrified daughter, who came home in the middle of the chaos and thought her brother was dying, went with me in the car. 

When we got to the hospital, I wasn't sure who looked worse, my husband, who looked shell shocked, or my son, who kept repeating himself.  It was so bad that my daughter finally wrote down what had happened and each time he asked us, she said, "Get the paper out of your pocket.  It explains everything."
He'd say in amazement, "I've read this before?  I feel deja vu, like I've seen this before."  Then he would laugh uncomfortably as we told him he'd read it almost 20 times.  I videotaped him repeatedly asking the same questions over and over,  and our very patient answers.

"Is Esther okay?"  "Yes, she's fine."  "Am I going to be okay, Mommy?"  "I think so. That's why you're here."  "How long have I been out?"  "You haven't been. You've been awake this whole time."  "Am I at Swedish Covenenant?"  "No, you're at _____ hospital."  "What happened to me? I'm scared, Mom"  "We're not sure.  You hit your head."  "How long have I been out?"  and so on...

The resident and attending trauma physicians both came in several times and checked on him.  The CT of the brain and the xrays were all okay.  They took off the hard collar and took him off the back board.  They gave him some morphine for his back pain. 

Because we're both doctors, they let him go home with us.  They told us the memory loss could last from 24 hours to up to 4 weeks or more,  to let him get a good night sleep. Sleep would allow his brain to heal and rest.  They told us not to let him play sports for at least 6 weeks, up to 3 months. They gave us all of the instructions and answered all of our questions.  We were terrified that he was permanently damaged.  I'd seen traumatic brain injury up close with a patient who was in therapy for a year before her short term memory and working memory became normal again. 

Since he was sort of okay, we decided to have some fun. It WAS kind of funny that he asked the same questions over and over.  We gave him funny answers, which he believed, and promptly forgot.   Ellie put an EKG monitor pastie on his cheek.  She had him convinced that it was to monitor his jaw movements and it was important to keep it on.  He wasn't sure if he should believe her, but he kept it on.  At first it was funny. Then, it wasn't.  Poor kid.  I felt horrible for him and then I felt an overwhelming sense of fear that he would be like this forever, that my smart, beautiful, funny, anxious kid, would be living Ground Hog day--over and over again, forever.  His future could be completely erased in a freak home accident.

Fortunately he is recovering most of his memories from the last week.  His working memory is still a little spotty-he's sluggish on calculations, but it's getting better. It's only been a day and a half.
What do I tell his teachers?  How long should I keep him out of school?  Questions racing through my head. 

I guess it's human nature to try to find the humor in everything.  In retrospect, there were funny moments, but I am so grateful that he is recovering. It was funny that he believed we needed to monitor his chewing muscles.  (Poor kid)

"Bad stuff can happen in a split second.  Life is short."

 People say this kind of thing all of the time.  It never really means anything unless it's YOU it's happened to.  You can warn people until you're blue in the face, it will do no good.  It takes personal experience, fear and terror from a freak accident or unexpected illness, to make you realize it's true.  And yet, even afterward, we still live like we've got our whole lives in front of us. We live like everything is always going to be fine.  That we have plenty of time to do get things done.


 I will try to remember not to take things for granted, but it's hard work to live like that.  I don't want to constantly be worried about what's around the corner, looking for the next bad thing to befall me or my loved ones.  I'd rather live optimistically, like all will be well. Bury my head in the sand, and be happy.  Live in the now.  Live in the moment.  Hope for the best.  (My irish self says, "and expect the worst.") 
Peace. 

Here's some information on Concussions.  Please read it and become familiar with it.  It might be important for you some day.


http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/concussion/DS00320
http://theconcussionblog.com/what-is-a-concussion/

SIGNS

 

 Signs. 

December 4, 2013

Yesterday I noticed there was a new sign on the outside of our hospital notifying the public that bringing a gun into the hospital was not welcome. No kidding. 

There are signs all around us. Some we pay attention to, others we choose to ignore.

Some signs should never be ignored-- like a red stoplight. Recently I  was almost killed when a guy blew through a red light.  I had waited my usual two seconds after the light turned green before I proceeded into the intersection. (Thank you State of Illinois’ defensive driving course). I had just enough time to stop with a good 2 feet between the man’s car and mine. The man appeared bewildered and confused and I truly think he just didn't see that the light had turned red. He wasn’t paying attention.

 It's funny because I was thinking about

superpowers at the time. I was wondering what superpowers people have, and what they can do on a daily basis to effect change.  I was also thinking about how short and brief life can be.  Then BOOM! Well, almost boom. Fortunately not a single person was hurt, no cars were damaged, and I was able to proceed after the gentleman backed up out of the intersection. But again it reminded me how quickly our lights can be snuffed out. My superpower that time was good peripheral vision.

There are signs all around us for our health as well.

If we choose to ignore those signs and proceed into the intersection, we might crash. It's a fine balance between deciding which signs to heed and which ones to ignore. If we look at  every single sign on the road, we will become distracted. 

Sometimes signs seems more of a suggestion.  If you do the speed limit when everyone else is doing 80 mph, you're more likely to get into an accident from someone tail-gating. On the other hand, ignoring the speed limit in a school or park zone is a BAD idea.

 

It's  as difficult sometimes to know which signs our bodies are giving us and whether or not to pay attention to them.

Some people never learn what “normal” is. Normal is not “perfect.” Normal is not being free of symptoms or signs. Everyone has aches and pains. It's knowing when to be worried that is the trick. Is this pain my heart? Is this pain my chest wall? Could this be a blood clot? Is losing 30 lbs without trying good? Or bad? 

Our parents/guardians help when we're younger to cipher out the background noise our bodies are constantly putting out there. Growing pains, catches, itches, hiccups, colds with runny nose and scratchy throat, cramps in our muscles, feet and hands going to sleep in certain positions–all are things our elders teach us how to deal with when we’re kids.

 There are however certain signs one should never ignore.  A mole that's changing in size or color. A lingering cough. Unexplained weight loss. Urinating frequently, painfully or with blood. Changes in the color of or blood in  your stool. New daily persistent headaches. Flashing lights in your eyes. Unexplained weight loss. Uncontrollable nausea and vomiting with abdominal pain.

We learn which signs to ignore through experience and through the help of experts like our parents or our friends or our doctors. The trick is not blowing through the red light. Not missing the signs.

That's kind of how disease can sometimes be too. All of a sudden the light goes from amber to red, the hoarseness became vocal cord cancer. The weight loss is lymphoma.  The mole is melanoma.

When the light turns yellow you should slow down and pay

attention. When it turns red you should stop and give it your full attention.  Don't blow through the red lights your body is

putting out there. Pay attention to the signs and symptoms but learn what is serious and what is not.  Use reputable medical websites like Mayo Clinic or Medscape, and don't believe everything you read on the net.  Lots of people are just trying to con you out of your hard earned cash by feeding on fears and giving misinformation.  

AND BY ALL MEANS...Talk to your doctor.  And your Mom. 

The Vampire Diaries Healed Me

 

I've been thinking about healing a lot lately.

 It's funny, but I've always thought physicians should be required to take acting lessons. It doesn't matter what kind of day I'm having. My patients need me to be fully present. To be their doctor. It doesn't matter that one of my staff is a no-show and I've got a sick and crashing patient at the hospital and my 15-year-old riled me up to the point of explosion that morning. I act my way through each day.  I become what my patient needs.  I channel my inner doctor.

This weekend, as you read in my previous blog post, I had a full weekend to myself, including an entire day to be completely alone without responsibility. What did I do with that day? I had all of these grand ideas of things I wanted to accomplish. I read somewhere that it's the days where you feel that you've had too many things to do and yet you've accomplished them all where you feel the most satisfied.  I believe that. But it makes me feel guilty when I want, when I NEED to rest. When I want to do nothing.

Yesterday I did nothing but watch The Vampire Diaries. I watched all of seasons three and four. I accomplished nothing but watching that program and walking the dog. 

This morning I woke up, dressed, and got ready to go to the hospital to round.  I walked the dog and I went to work and discovered something important. The Vampire Diaries had healed me. I had needed healing and didn't know it. I needed a day to not feel guilty about doing Nothing at all--a day to rest-- to escape--to turn off my compassion and my empathy and my need to accomplish things and serve others.

 I immersed myself in a fantasy.

When I rounded today at the hospital I found that I was a better doctor. I was able to draw upon a deep well of empathy that I hadn't been able to dip into easily because I'd been drained. I was able to help a woman who has no reason on this green earth to smile and laugh--to do just that. 

It got me thinking about healing and how it's not just the purview of physicians and nurses and medical people. Artists heal people. Actors heal people.  Authors heal people.  They  allow us to disappear into another world, a fantasy.   I wonder if they ever think about that. I wonder if they know that they are healers.

Now you can laugh at me for enjoying the Vampire Diaries. It's a  program filled with INCREDIBLY good looking actors (Ian Somerhalder-ooh la-la!), acting out the things that vampires and werewolves and witches and what-not would do if they existed. It's totally engrossing and the actors are all quite convincing.  They are acting out things that I can't do anymore because I'm 51. I have done all that stuff already anyway. Well... I haven't bitten anybody in the neck and sucked their blood or healed anybody with vampire blood, or had sex with a werewolf,  but I've lived my life and had a good time before settling down, before getting married and having children. 

I wish that I could leave a body of work behind like a writer or an actor or a screenwriter or producer or musician. Something that people could draw on again and again--Something permanent and durable and healing.

I have a friend who's a singer and songwriter. He has a whole body of amazing music. He shares it with his friends and his family. He gives a little bit of himself to everyone he knows and loves. His music heals.

Actors and actresses, writers, and artists do the same thing.  Some are lucky enough to be able to share their gifts with millions of people. They have no idea how their work is going to affect their audiences. 

I wonder if they realize that they are healers. 

 I see people who come into the hospital and watch DVD's the entire time they're there, to maintain their sanity and block out reality.  They disappear into paintings on the wall and make up fantasies about where the scenes are from.  They read novels.  They escape their pain. 

 I  am also amazed by the actors and artists, musicians and writers who effect change in the world beyond the scope of their profession, develop a fan base and take on projects and causes. They activate entire social networks to make change in the world. They heal the world.  They use their fame for good.

I heard one actor say that he was just the microphone amplifying the message of the cause he was promoting. Somebody called him humble because he wouldn't take credit, but he's right. And it's awesome that he can be the microphone. He has that base of people that are paying attention to him right now because he's a famous actor, not because he came up with the cause.  He just amplified it using the power of his profession and loyalty of his fans.

 My friends Sue and Leslie and Sally are amazing and incredible artists.  I have high school  acquaintances who are actors or musicians. I have met people along my life path who are writers or actors, or musicians.

 They are all healers.  

The Arts are critical for the health of our souls, minds, and bodies. Yet they're the first things cut from schools when the monies get short. Don't get me wrong. I think that attention to the STEM-Science Technology, Engineering and Math curriculum--is great, especially for girls, but it shouldn't be at the expense of the arts. We need to experience a full and balanced education. If you focus solely on science and lose the compassion, depth, empathy, and ethics found in studying the arts, we all lose.

The arts center us. 

 As I continue in my own  little world, whirling around doing the things that I do, the shopping, the laundry, the house cleaning, and my life's work--being a physician and a parent-- I'm going to look for ways to change the world. I'm going to keep trying  out new things. I'm going to keep taking risks. I'll keep acting my way through life, looking for ways to impact others. I am looking for different ways to effect healing and leave a lasting imprint.  AND, I'm going to take time out to enjoy the arts. And to rest.

 I want to thank the cast of The Vampire Diaries for a brief respite, battery recharge, and for healing me for a day, AND for showing me a different healing paradigm.

And Ian Somerhalder, Wow. Those EYES.

 (Just because you're on a diet doesn't mean you can't look at the menu.  Stop being all judge-y! Okay?!)

Michele Carlon MD, a.k.a. DoctorDiva