Dermatologia y mas cosas

“We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.”

The Letter that took me ten years to write…

justinhope:

September 11, 2011

Dear Anesthesiologist, Orthopedic Surgeons and Hospital CEO: (names removed from this post)

 

You may remember our youngest child, Justin. He was eleven. You cared for him ten years ago. He presented to you on Jan. 15, 2001 for an incision and drainage of a septic ankle.

 

We believe that the surgery was performed (primarily by the orthopedic resident) during which time Justin experienced a series of cardiac arrests accompanied by a pulmonary hemorrhage from the endotrachael tube. He was transported to the PICU at another facility (name removed from post) in grave condition and died that next morning after being removed from life support with no hope of survival. His brother and sister were asked by the chaplains to be present to say good bye. Being teenagers at the time, this was a life changing and difficult journey for them and his entire family, friends and community. Traumatic, unexpected loss and grief are the most unbearable.

 

Upon our arrival home, the coroner’s office called stating that “something was not right” and that we should seek an attorney.

 

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sallyj101:

Premium work hrs are equivalent, but not equal, to 6 am - 2 pm.
- Deviations may occur within the limits of 30 - 45 min and are measured using a standard Roman water clock.
A plateau of productivity occurs between 2:45 & 3:15 pm.
- This occurrence has previously been described as a steady…

SEPTEMBER 1, 1939 by W.H. Auden

I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade: 
Waves of anger and fear 
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth, 
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death 
Offends the September night.

Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz,
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.

Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.

Into this neutral air
Where blind skyscrapers use 
Their full height to proclaim 
The strength of Collective Man, 
Each language pours its vain 
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare, 
Imperialism’s face
And the international wrong.

Faces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are, 
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.

The windiest militant trash 
Important Persons shout
Is not so crude as our wish: 
What mad Nijinsky wrote 
About Diaghilev
Is true of the normal heart; 
For the error bred in the bone 
Of each woman and each man 
Craves what it cannot have, 
Not universal love
But to be loved alone.

From the conservative dark
Into the ethical life
The dense commuters come,
Repeating their morning vow;
'I will be true to the wife,
I’ll concentrate more on my work,’
And helpless governors wake
To resume their compulsory game: 
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the dead,
Who can speak for the dumb?

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street 
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky: 
There is no such thing as the State 
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame. 

jayparkinsonmd:

I stumbled upon some of my old hard drives yesterday. This was a photo I took of one of my patients back in my Pediatric residency at St. Vincents in the West Village. This little guy did alright and recovered from the worst case of henoch schonlein purpura I’ve ever seen, but the hospital with that beautiful view died. HSP can be caused by an abnormal immune response to something, maybe a reaction due to a medication, but when it’s this severe, it’s typically treated similarly to a severe burn from a fire.

jayparkinsonmd:

I stumbled upon some of my old hard drives yesterday. This was a photo I took of one of my patients back in my Pediatric residency at St. Vincents in the West Village. This little guy did alright and recovered from the worst case of henoch schonlein purpura I’ve ever seen, but the hospital with that beautiful view died. HSP can be caused by an abnormal immune response to something, maybe a reaction due to a medication, but when it’s this severe, it’s typically treated similarly to a severe burn from a fire.

RONALD MCDONALD Vomitting

RONALD MCDONALD Vomitting

“Nudity is a form of dress.”

“Nudity is a form of dress.”


physician bloggers

physician bloggers

“There are two things that don’t have to mean anything; one is music, and the other is laughter.”- Immanuel Kant

Books to the ceiling, 
Books to the sky,
My pile of books is a mile high.
How I love them! How I need them!
I’ll have a long beard by the time I read them.
~ Arnold Lobel [1933-1987] author of many popular children’s books.

Books to the ceiling, 
Books to the sky,
My pile of books is a mile high.
How I love them! How I need them!
I’ll have a long beard by the time I read them.

~ Arnold Lobel [1933-1987] author of many popular children’s books.