I just finished Seth Godin’sLinchpin. Seth makes the case that in a hypercompetitive world the stakes are higher than ever to make an indispensible contribution to something you care about. The linchpin is the essential element, the piece of a wheel or organization that is absolutely irreplaceable.
Seth references business, but he might as well have been talking about obstetricians or internists. We need more linchpin doctors.
Modern patient care is progressively marginalizing physicians. Care that is increasingly “managed” and dependent upon automated diagnostics is leaving physicians as powerless cogs in a system of mechanical patient care. Patients have become naturally detached as they search for solutions of their own.
Physicians have to be remarkable to remain relevant. Physicians have to offer something not available anywhere else. Physicians need to make a difference and in their own way and serve as real leaders and innovators in their relationships with patients and their communities. Physicians have to be linchpins. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at 33 Charts*
If you just snapped a quick picture, you wouldn’t see it. Not unless you were looking for the small signs, like my insulin pump. Or my spotted fingertips.
Type 1 diabetes isn’t something you can see on me. It’s not an illness that, at this point in my life, comes with any constant external symptoms. I am fortunate enough to not use a wheelchair or need vision assistance devices. You can’t see my disease, even though it’s something I manage every day.
I seem “normal.” (Stop laughing. Let me use the word normal for the sake of this blog post, at the very least!) I seem like your average 30 year old professional woman (again, stop laughing), recently married, inspired to achieve, and happy.
And I am happy.
But my good health is not without great effort.
Type 1 diabetes is a chronic illness, and one that has required daily maintenance and effort from me, and from my caregivers, for the last 23 years. Every morning starts with my meter. Every meal I’ve eaten in the last two plus decades has been preceeded by a blood sugar check and an insulin dose. And every night has my finger pricked by a lancet before my head hits the pillow.
This isn’t a pity party. Not by a long shot. My life is healthy and I have a very fulfiling existance, even if days are bookended by diabetes and even if I’m now wearing medical devices 24 hours a day, every single day. And back when I was a fresh-faced litttle kiddo, people seemed to want to cure my disease because they didn’t like the idea of a small child dealing with this disease.
Kids are fun to cure. They’re cute. And their futures seem worth investing in.
What confuses me is how quickly people forget. Type 1 diabetes became a part of my life a long time ago, and I don’t remember even a snippet of “the before.” But even though I’ve lived very well with this disease and kept it from defining me in any way, it’s still here. And it’s still something I deal with every day, regardless of how well or poorly controlled. But just because I’m no longer a little kid with the bright, shining future, am I any less diabetic? Any less deserving of that cure? Just because you can’t see my disease, and because I seem to have it under physical and emotional control, does not mean it’s past the point of deserving a cure.
Here is a vlog post that I did back in February about vlogging during a low blood sugar and how “diabetes can look so normal yet feel so rotten.” It’s a video that shows how invisible diabetes can be, but how visible it feels from the perspective of those who live with it:
Children with diabetes grow up to be adults with diabetes. And all the while, we’re still ready for progress. And for hope. And for a cure.
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