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Physician, Heal Thyself
From ME/CFS (Part 3 of 3) Dear Reader, my apologies. Within the confines of my current prison, I have not yet completed the essays I promised you months ago, neither
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Anti-Fragility
When unexpected hardship strikes us like a hammer, do we gain strength? When we lose an eye, can our ear more than compensate? When we lose a family member far too young, can we gain fortitude, as if we were preparing for greater disasters yet to come?
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Burnout (Part IV)
If you sense in the air a sapping, the loss of all your strength and joy; if you feel powerless to plan and act and there seems to be no purpose in your life; if you forget how to feel happy and you find no beauty anywhere—not even in a Christmas snowfall or a flaming…
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Burnout (Part III)
Have you ever traveled through The Land of Burnout? Have you stopped for a meal at Slim’s Bar and Grill? Perhaps you’ve forgotten it all. Perhaps your memories got jumbled as mine did.
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Burnout (Part II)
The best way to Burnout is not to follow any map, but to spin in tight circles at your regular job as fast as you can. Every job requires spinning—usually clockwise—though it’s often called something else, like a “Quality Initiative” or “Five Nines of Certainty.” Start spinning immediately.
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Turnabout and the Common Cold
Turnabout is fair play. That’s what one of my physician mentors, Ken O’Neill, told me. In essence, sharp, witty replies are acceptable, even when they flash some teeth.
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Rescue is Coming for Those Who Suffer with Chronic Pain
To the young woman, utterly lost and sore-afraid, imprisoned in the Underground, I say, “Hold on!” To the old man, desperate with pain and blinded by the darkness, I say, “I am coming.” Listen for my voice and follow me. I am heading out of this wicked place in due time.
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Theseus Descending
There must be 101 ways to hurt. All of them are rotten. Some of them change us. Even tiny things can pack a wallop. Consider these five: a hornet sting on the hand; a scratch across the eye; a kidney stone on its journey; a gout flare in the toe; and a burned finger on…
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A Song for Sammie
I’m searching for somebody—the person I can help the most through my writing. I don’t know her real name, because she’s a private person, but sometimes I call her Suffering Sammie. If you see her, or if you know where she lives, could you tell her I’m still looking for her? That I never gave…
