December 11th, 2010 by Edwin Leap, M.D. in Better Health Network, Opinion, True Stories
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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*
November 25th, 2010 by John Mandrola, M.D. in Better Health Network, Humor, True Stories
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A mom who took care of us kids far better than she did herself, always. A Dad whose advice grew better with years, although it was good then. Two brothers and a sister to share a driveway basketball court with, rain or shine. The infinite love of grandparents, who lived within hollering distance over an old Connecticut stone wall.
A high school guidance counselor who said I wasn’t smart enough to go to medical school. A college biology professor who rolled out a cart of beers on that first Friday evening research conference. That I watched the movie “Hoosiers” and thought to look at Indiana University for residency, and while there met so many dedicated cardiology teachers.
That I have so many great colleagues to work with now. Immersing oneself in a sea of committed people helps the heart. Medical peeps are a cool crowd. That technological wizardry has allowed us on opportunity to alleviate the heart’s most common hiccup, the AF.
That our family has found some great pals to hang with. Friends that allow us to wear tank tops, shorts and crocs with socks when we visit. But most of all, I am thankful for a family that I would not change one bit — a loving wife who is a best friend, and smart healthy kids who like themselves, each other, and their parents (at least most of the time).
Thanksgiving.
JMM
Oops…I am thankful that I am a master bike racer, too. Only I wish that I was faster.
*This blog post was originally published at Dr John M*
June 29th, 2010 by JessicaBerthold in Better Health Network, Humor, Opinion, True Stories
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A version of the following post by Kimberly Manning appeared on the blog Reflections of a Grady Doctor:
May and June mark the end of our academic year in medical education. The medical students either advance to the next level or become sho’ nuff and bonified doctors — albeit uncertified and untrained — but doctors nonetheless. The interns exit the novice stage and become residents — one week asking someone senior what to do, the next telling someone junior what to do. And of course, the senior residents and fellows finally get the stamp of approval that officially releases them from the nest. It’s kind of bittersweet for folks like me — the surrogate mommies and daddies that helped guide them along this path to becoming full-fledged physicians. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at ACP Hospitalist*
