When docs get annoyed at empowered patients
When you’ve got ten minutes with the patient, as the physician, you may feel frustrated having to read, interpret, and explain what they’ve downloaded, especially if it goes against the treatment plan you’ve carefully crafted.
But That’s Your Job, Doc
I’m sorry. No offense, docs. But this is our JOB. We are teachers, healers, educators. It is our JOB to help our patients navigate their medical decisions with compassion, patience, and an open mind.
Our patients know their bodies better than we will ever know. We may have gone to school for a decade to learn about the human body, but we do not live in the body of our patients. Only they have the power to tap into their intuition and know what is best for them. And we are thwarting the process if we get in the way of that self-healing process.
(Source: owningpink.com)
The doctor-patient relationship
Today, I’m going out on a limb to suggest a new kind of Doctor-Patient Relationship, the kind I practice and I hope others in The New Medicine do too. Here goes nothing.
It’s All About Collaboration
As doctor and patient, you and I are entering into a partnership. I will not give you orders because we will be collaborating, and your voice is as important as mine, if not more so. Because we will be partners, I feel it is important to clarify and agree upon what our relationship will entail, what you can expect of me, and what I expect of you.
I am here to support you, guide you, offer you tools, and support your process, but I will not “fix” you - for I don’t believe you are broken.
(Source: owningpink.com)
Real women
Real women do not have curves. Real women do not look like just one thing.
Real women have curves, and not. They are tall, and not. They are brown-skinned, and olive-skinned, and not. They have small breasts, and big ones, and no breasts whatsoever.
Real women start their lives as baby girls. And as baby boys. And as babies of indeterminate biological sex whose bodies terrify their doctors and families into making all kinds of very sudden decisions.
Real women have big hands and small hands and long elegant fingers and short stubby fingers and manicures and broken nails with dirt under them.
Real women have armpit hair and leg hair and pubic hair and facial hair and chest hair and sexy moustaches and full, luxuriant beards. Real women have none of these things, spontaneously or as the result of intentional change. Real women are bald as eggs, by chance and by choice and by chemo. Real women have hair so long they can sit on it. Real women wear wigs and weaves and extensions and kufi and do-rags and hairnets and hijab and headscarves and hats and yarmulkes and textured rubber swim caps with the plastic flowers on the sides.
Real women wear high heels and skirts. Or not.
Real women are feminine and smell good and they are masculine and smell good and they are androgynous and smell good, except when they don’t smell so good, but that can be changed if desired because real women change stuff when they want to.
Real women have ovaries. Unless they don’t, and sometimes they don’t because they were born that way and sometimes they don’t because they had to have their ovaries removed. Real women have uteruses, unless they don’t, see above. Real women have vaginas and clitorises and XX sex chromosomes and high estrogen levels, they ovulate and menstruate and can get pregnant and have babies. Except sometimes not, for a rather spectacular array of reasons both spontaneous and induced.
Real women are fat. And thin. And both, and neither, and otherwise. Doesn’t make them any less real.
(Source: hanneblank.com)
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Rain
Amazing girl. Amazing parasol.
the majority of us lead quiet lives
day three hundred and thirty four by Luminous Lu
The majority of us lead quiet, unheralded lives as we pass through this world. There will most likely be no ticker-tape parades for us, no monuments created in our honor. But that does not lessen our possible impact, for there are scores of people waiting for someone just like us to come along; people who will appreciate our compassion, our unique talents. Someone who will live a happier life merely because we took the time to share what we had to give. Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have a potential to turn a life around. It’s overwhelming to consider the continuous opportunities there are to make our love felt.
—
Leo Buscaglia
(Source: kindovermatter.com)
OOTD: Sunny summer day
Headband: Claire’s
Shirt: Kohl’s
Skirt: modified Lane Bryant Outlet
Shoes: Skechers via DSW (this year)
Purse: BagEnvy on Etsy
The skirt’s actually a little big, so I wanted to run ribbon through the entire waistband to give it a pop of color and some size adjustment. I did it in a hurry this morning, so when I found that I couldn’t run the ribbon all the way through the skirt (the waistband is sewn all the way through in two places) I just ran the ribbon through the front half and then outside to look like a belt.
I didn’t have time to put fray check on the holes in the skirt, so I couldn’t pull it very tight and it looks a little funny. Once I get it finished it should look nice!
She’s got talent…no matter what you think
Folks, we are all Susan Boyle. Fat or thin, pretty or plain, butch or femme, old or young, abled or not: people will judge us and find us wanting. You can posture all you want, out of genuine confidence or bravado; you can insist that the ideals are wrong, that the goalposts need to be moved, that rational humans can shake off the shackles of cultural expectation. You can talk big and wiggle your hips — for some people, that’ll just make you more of a joke.
What makes people stop laughing — or at least, what makes you stop caring if they do? The discovery that something about you is utterly remarkable. Because it is. It might not be an angelic voice or some other showy talent. It might be humble, even difficult for others to notice. You might not know what it is yet (lord knows I don’t). You don’t even have to realize, right off the bat, how your remarkable qualities elevate you past any backwards beliefs about who you should be or what you should look like — apparently Boyle herself saw that clip and what she saw was “I looked like a garage” (which at least gets points for being an awfully humorous self-putdown). It’s an arduous process and goodness knows we’ve never said otherwise. But whatever it is, once you really know it’s there, once you know how much that means, a smirk from Simon won’t change a damn thing — and you’ll slap that smile off his face when you bust it out.
(Source: kateharding.net)
