One of my sweetest patients is John, a man in his fifties with debilitating arthritis. He’s a fast-talking, anxious fellow who returned for some advice. He told me he wanted to stay active and volunteer, and was ready for the companionship of a good woman.

His blood pressure was higher than usual. I wrote two prescriptions. The first was a small dose of a beta-blocker for blood pressure and anxiety. The second prescription read: “John is a great guy. He needs a wonderful woman in his life. I highly recommend him.”

As I reviewed his instructions, he jumped up from the sofa and hugged me. I guess I’m old-fashioned. I still handwrite my prescriptions because what patients really need can never be prescribed electronically.

Pamela Wible MD (excerpt from Goddess Shift: Women Leading for a Change)

Breakthrough cure for pain: LOL

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OlyXoIql9hY

Have you laughed with your doctor lately? Share your story.

Enjoy year-round sunshine with a month paid vacation. Earn 300K plus production bonus. No state tax! No call! Daily I’m bombarded with glossy postcards promising the good life.

With so many options, why are physicians fleeing medicine? Some leave for teaching, waitressing, even homemaking. Others escape into administration, insurance or pharmaceutical positions. Many simply retire in despair.

Robert Centor, M.D., writes about our quiet rebellion: “This rebellion has no Glenn Beck or Sarah Palin; no Abbie Hoffman or Che Guevara. This rebellion occurs one physician at a time, as that physician finds continuing their practice undesirable.”

And the truth behind the exodus?

There can never be year-round sunshine for physicians working in an unjust health-care system. And $300,000 can never be enough to numb the pain of dedicating one’s life to a profession that has lost it’s soul. A month’s vacation can only distract us from our suffering for approximately thirty days.

Now is not the time for doctors to give up call, but to accept a call to action. Ours is a sacred obligation, a covenant with patients. America’s greatest dreams can never be delivered by politician-saviors. We are the saviors we’ve been waiting for.

Years ago, I stopped pursuing the elusive production bonus; I stepped off the treadmill to follow my heart. And I discovered to heal my patients, I had to first heal my profession. So I held town hall meetings where I invited citizens to create their ideal clinic. Celebrated since 2005, our model has sparked a populist movement: Americans are creating ideal clinics and hospitals nationwide. One hospital CEO now affectionately calls me “his MLK.”

More than a quiet rebellion, we need a non-violent social revolution led by America’s doctors. Medicine needs a Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I think I’ll apply for the job.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4aWpjPtRwA

What do YOU think?

As Jill leaves, she always says, “I love you!”

Sometimes I whisper. Other times I scream down the hall: “I love you too!”

I think it’s illegal. Or risky. I’m supposed to contain my love, to practice professional distance. But why dissociate from myself or from those I care for? Why pretend to be reserved, restrained, aloof when I’m naturally warm, affectionate, friendly?

One day during med school I decided to break the rules, to celebrate my life without shame. And on that day I fell in love with myself and I gave myself permission to fall in love with my patients, to hug and kiss them, to sing and laugh with them, to look deep into their eyes, cry, and allow our tears to flow together.

On Valentine’s Day at my first job, I admitted an elderly man dying of heart disease. His wife–unable to bear the pain of watching him die–left his side. I could have left too, but it didn’t seem right to let this guy die alone on this romantic day so I sat with him, held his hand, and cried. A cardiologist, startled by my emotion, exclaimed, “You must be a new doctor,” then disappeared down the hall. Maybe old doctors don’t cry, but I don’t want to close my heart to the world.

Why is it unprofessional to love patients? Maybe love isn’t valued in a male-dominated profession. After all, love is not easily measured or reimbursed. Love is hard to control.