Death with Dignity
Whenever someone hang glides, / They pick a place to land. / Somewhere soft and somewhere close, / Somewhere that they planned.
Whenever someone hang glides, / They pick a place to land. / Somewhere soft and somewhere close, / Somewhere that they planned.
Some people’s life stories are worth writing down because of one thing or several things they did that had a historical significance; others are worth writing because of the diverse experiences and interesting stories that filled their lives. In the case of Ben Carson, both of are true. In his autobiographical work “Gifted Hands,” the pediatric neurosurgeon outlines his fascinating life journey – one filled with inspiration, adversity and spirituality.
The nightmare begins like any other. At first, everything seems familiar. But slowly, you realize something is not right — something is out of place. Outside the window, clouds black as night gather, lurching forward like a hurricane. The thunder is so intense you feel the electricity pulsate through your chest. An impending doom consumes your emotions. The room seems to press in on you like some scene from “Alice in Wonderland.” Then the words creep in.
For patients struggling to stay alive, organ donation serves as a new lease on life. According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, there are 123,358 people waiting for life-saving organ transplantation, yet there are only 13,125 organ donors. While subtle, nominal changes such as changing the U.S. organ donor program from an opt-in to an opt-out program have been proven to increase rates of organ donation, the rising levels of organ demand and stagnating levels of donors indicate that the only way to completely bridge the gap is through tangible and pervasive policy change.
In addition to its beneficial effects in patients with mood disorders, exercise has been found to be an excellent anxiety reliever. 30 million Americans suffer from severe anxiety that impairs daily functioning. This article will discuss anxiety disorders and research regarding the role of exercise in their treatment.
“Write your name,” he said. I complied on a little scrap of paper. He was, after all, the senior in college who had just been accepted to medical school, and therefore all wise and all knowing. “Now write Dr. in front of it.” Again, I complied. “If you don’t feel a little surge of adrenaline when you see that, maybe medical school isn’t right for you,” he continued.
For me, hepatitis B booster shots feel pretty much as pleasant as being sucker punched in the arm. You can imagine that it didn’t inspire much elation when I scrolled through my calendar to see, spelled out in big red letters, a reminder for “Hep B #3.” Now, as I reflect, this reminder feels like a victory of sorts.
What were you doing on Wednesday, Feb. 25, 2015, at 9 p.m. EST? Were you taking a bath? Were you having a meal? Most people were probably watching their favorite television show, having quality time with their families or reflecting on the day’s happenings. However, about 20,000 medical students and medical graduates in the United States collectively held their breath at 9 p.m. EST.
My thumb is on the white plunger: first stop / and now the pipette is ready to suck. / My hand is trembling, hovering over / the small plastic tube. I dip it down and in, / release the plunger, and draw it all inside.
In recent weeks, President Obama signed the Clay Hunt Suicide Prevention for American Veterans Act, a landmark step in promoting access to services and in supporting efforts to reduce deaths by suicide among veterans. Nearly 20 percent of deaths by suicide in the United States each year are by veterans, particularly veterans who served in active duty and combat.
As a medical student, there is nothing more precious to us than time and brain space. More than once have I left a lecture thinking, “That was a complete waste of my time.” With the volume of information thrown at us, it is paramount to focus on the high yield. Every kind of resource, from Pathoma to First Aid, focuses on the high-yield information that will show up on Step 1. Sometimes, I don’t even think that far.
My stomach had been in knots that morning. “Are you pregnant?” my classmate laughed after I returned to the gross anatomy lab for the second time after leaving to get a drink. “No,” I chuckled, and returned to cutting through fat and fascia, teasing out the muscles and nerves for the day’s dissection. But, I wondered.