I suspect that in the next couple of years we’ll see the emergence of a viable social network for physicians. It hasn’t happened yet, but I suspect that we’re getting close. Physicians are increasingly dabbling in mainstream social sites.
But maybe that’s a problem. After all, a doctor can only hang in so many places. If you have “The Facebook for Doctors,” do you expect us to spend our time there instead of on Facebook itself? Maybe we will, and maybe we won’t.
Beyond the obvious requirement of a network to deliver value, I think the rate-limiting factor is old-fashioned bandwidth. You can only be one place at a time. If I spend my days on Twitter, I’m not likely to spend my days on said doctor’s network. I will go there for particular things and to talk to certain people about specific issues, but like most doctors I’m not sure I can tell you exactly what I want. I’ll know it when I see it. (Actually I do, but I’m keeping it tip-top secret.) Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at 33 Charts*
(Note: This post contains spoilers. If you are like my girl Brittany and you believe happily in the story of Santa, skip down to where it says “Diabetes is like Santa Claus.”)
My husband and I share a philosophy on Santa Claus.
Santa gets too much credit. Why should Santa get all the glory for the gifts that show up underneath the Christmas tree on Christmas morning? Mom and Dad work their tails off to provide a fun and comfortable life for our child, and to have the fun thunder (funder?) stolen by Santa Claus is unfair. “Thank you, Santa, for the Barbie and the Rockers van!” I shouted as a kid, not realizing that Mom and Dad put in some extra hours (and spent half the night assembling the stupid thing) to get that Rocker Van under our Christmas tree.
So BSparl will be fed the Santa story, but she’ll also understand that her Christmas gifts come mostly from her parents, and not from a fictional cookie thief who shimmies down the chimney. Santa doesn’t work as hard as we do, so he shouldn’t get all the credit.
Diabetes is like Santa Claus. (Welcome back, Brittany!) Only in this case, it SHOULD be the one given most of the credit for certain things. And I shouldn’t give myself so much of the blame and guilt. I have a tendency to look at a blood sugar reading and instantly blame myself for it. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
The puppeteer skit features the interaction between a young man with a rash and his older physician. The patient is an informed kind of guy: He’s checked his own medical record on the doctor’s website, read up on rashes in the Boston Globe, checked pix on WebMD, seen an episode of “Gray’s Anatomy” about a rash and, most inventively, checked iDiagnose, a hypothetical app (I hope) that led him to the conclusion that he might have epidermal necrosis.
“Not to worry,” the patient informs Dr. Matthews, who meanwhile has been trying to examine him (“Say aaahhh” and more): He’s eligible for an experimental protocol. After some back-and-forth in which the doctor — who’s been quite courteous until this point, calling the patient “Mr. Horcher,” for example, and not admonishing the patient who’s got so many ideas of his own — the doctor says that the patient may be exacerbating the condition by scratching it, and questions the wisdom of taking an experimental treatment for a rash. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Medical Lessons*
This is my column in December’s Emergency Medicine News:
I like to think back on favorite Christmas gifts I have received down the years. I don’t think I can do any better than the children of mine who were born around Christmas. Three of the four came within one month of Christmas day. One came on December 23rd. What wonderful presents!
Going farther back, I recall sitting by the Christmas tree at my childhood home, or the homes of my grandparents. I found toy soldiers, toy horses, Matchbox cars, pocket knives and many other little-boy wonders. I remember the beautiful wooden stock and golden trigger of my first shotgun, and how it pulled me irresistably into a sense of impending manhood to know that my father and mother trusted me enough to give such a gift.
I have been thrilled to give gifts to my wife and children down the years. I smile when I consider stuffed animals, American Girl dolls, Polly Pockets, toy knights, castles, iPods, bicycles, books, a small harp, and a shiny sword. I admit that I love putting their packages under the tree.
I enjoy hearing about the things my loved ones love. It is my delight to know their hearts and to go and find the perfect thing that, when opened, will make their eyes light up and give them delight.
But there are people other than my family, and there are many kinds of gifts. I can’t help but think that if I were giving the perfect gift to my patients, some would love to open a gold-embossed Oxycontin prescription with the “infinity” emblem under “number of refills.” And others would be speechless to dump out their stocking and find their disability paperwork completed. The tears of joy would flow! Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at edwinleap.com*
Scientists know that our perceptions about taste and texture drive our food preferences. They know quite a lot about the role of taste in this regard, and the results of some recent experiments have shed new light on the role of texture as well, particularly as it relates to foods containing starch.
Starch is a major component of potatoes, rice, corn, wheat and the enormous variety of foods derived from them. It is also added to many other products from maple syrup to pudding. In fact, starch accounts for 40 to 60 percent of the calorie content in the average Western diet, and more than that in many Asian and third-world diets.
Humans begin digesting starch in the mouth, where the salivary glands secrete an enzyme known as amylase. This enzyme breaks down starch and other complex carbohydrates into simpler sugar molecules which end up being absorbed from the small intestine into the bloodstream. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Pizaazz*
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