I think medicine should be accessible to everyone. Even if people have health insurance, they often harbor distrust of their doctors. It’s been shown, for instance, that doctors tend to be less forthcoming with black patients than white ones. And that’s a shame.
The medical info is all wrong. Those doctors screwed it up again> I don’t know what to do any more. I need the help, but I;m not getting the help I need.
Too much I can’t say. But I will say this: Make sure your elderly family members have all their documents in order, so that if there is ever a medical emergency, someone has the authority to help them and advocate on their behalf. Without papers, no one has the authority to view their records, to talk to doctors, or to make decisions on their behalf. Being related by blood does not automatically give you that right. Get durable medical power of attorney papers. Get health care surrogate papers. Get HIPPA forms for individual doctors at the very least. We should all have these filled out for ourselves too. The younger we are, the less we think we need them, but the reality is, tragedy can strike anyone at any age at any time.
the medical journals were stacked to the ceiling. pages were dog-eared, bindings were broken, and still he felt he didn’t know enough. as he looked over the books he had read over his life, he wondered how this disease could still have gtten the better of him…
I had to go to the doctor for medical reasons. In reality, I was just tired. Sometimes people think being tired means you are sick, but sometimes it just means you are tired. Rest people, rest.
Lots of it will I get better don’t no
Very sad, lonly,not sure I deserve my hubby, want relief, need space, need sleep, need rub downs , don’t wand any more all done, want to feel better.
Need flowers, running water, mountains, space, order, soaking, no more meds, just feel good
No scars,
What else I got nothing elate
oh. my. god. medical. i don’t want to hear about it. or do i? medical. what saved my fathers life. it dit. or did it not? maybe the angels saved him. what do I know.
The pain seared my body–the feeling of betrayal rested deep in my bones. I wished desperately that medical attention would cure my broken limbs. A bright light and the smell of cleaning products would be welcome in my world. But it wasn’t that easy. I had to open my eyes and breathe, not resting for a moment. Simply, I had to live on, and it could be the hardest thing to do.
Of all words, medical stares me in the face. Adrienne is in surgery. Karley is receiving her second unit of blood. My life is tangled in medical issues, medical anxiety, medical anger. I am surprised at how negative my reaction is to this word.
I can smell it. It smells like iodine. The slick, sweet medicinal smell just before the needle into the vein that is too small. And there is always that moment when I think, “This was a mistake.” Too late. The blood flows into the bag.
i hate doctors probing at my bits and trying to get me to buy drugs from them. i hate the smell of hospitals like sterile yet decaying all around. i don’t appreciate modern medicine
marijuana at it’s best: it’s this laboratory filled with magical appliances, golden bubbles blossoming out of the pieces he’s constructed. So basically when you walk into the laboratory you get really happy and fulfilled and inspired. Wonderful!
There was a little girl in the room, the doctor knew. He wasn’t one to break news, he left that to other doctors, to nurses, but this girl was in pain, and this was a different case.
“Your daughter,” he said, his voice low and his head bowed, “had pancreatic cancer.” I’m so sorry.
Beep. Beep.
The sound of the IV hooked up to me, ringing in my ears. That annoying sound, repetitive, but which made me oh so glad at the time.
Oh so glad I was alive.
But if I knew what would come after death, I would have been willing that beeping sound to cut out into that long, drawn out drone. The drone of death. Because the afterlife, that place, it’s much better than over here..
There was a doctor. He wasn’t very kind, and he wasn’t very thoughtful, but he todl the truth. He never softened it. He just spoke. His patients were sad when he finished, always, but he never cared. HE just went on. His life was all about the truth, and nothing but.
A medical procedure was necessary. Only then could Matilda be able to recover properly and in the efficient amount of time. Of course this wasn’t easy, the last time she had to undergo medical surgery was when her bike helmet had broken in half from the pick-up truck own the road…Matilda was afraid.
medical. expenses.
piling up on broken bones
and weak lungs.
tell me how you can charge someone
when they are sick.
dying.
and being born. is there really a price to that?
I follow this blog called FuckYeahMedicalDiagrams. Its a bunch of art made from diagrams of the human body nd organs. really beautiful. some may think that the human heart or lungs or even brains are morbid, but i think they are just works of art.
Doctors – working too many hours, nurses underpaid and overworked, overcrowded wards, sick people waiting for results, blood tests, x-rays, broken limbs, vomit, run-down facilities, scans
you call my name and I run to you. tiny girl fast breathing, little face but unafraid you shut your eyes breathe deep one last one last you breathe and sigh and tiny smile as you wave good bye and all those around you wail and cry
Mediziner tragen weiße oder grüne Kleidung. Und ich frage mich, wie eine Welt ohne Mediziner aussehen würde. Wenn einfach keiner auf die Idee gekommen wäre, dass man für Schmerzen etwas braucht, was sie heilt. Wenn die Menschen Schmerzen oder andere Veränderungen des Körpers annehmen würden, interessant finden, jedenfalls nicht auf Teufel komm raus beseitigen wollten.
The medical records department was down in the basement of the clinic, “the dungeon,” as everyone on the staff called it. Kaylee liked being the dungeon master.
The walls had been stripped and the furniture was taken away. On the floor, balls of lint, hair and dust drifted across his feet. The scent lingered, indescribably. There were definite recollections being parsed but of what he wasn’t sure.
The medical miracle that was Margaret was as yet unknown to Margaret herself. She thought herself somewhat average – average looking, average weight, average intelligence, average life. But the doctor who looked inside her head that day, after she had suffered a series of unrelenting headaches, saw something he had never seen before. A small, dark mass that was clearly not a tumor, but was something indeed.
hospital white light i don’t like it problems money nurse doctor no trust crazy people who study it though very important, bad health system third world no vaccines bad
I can’t believe I got stuck with this job again, he thought to himself. The young boy was sent out into the jungle to gather medical plants. It was a dangerous job, but only certain people where smart enough to do it. Grabing the wrong plants meant certain death.
I cant help but think about that two year old, dying on tc. His little lungs expanding to merely nothing, just twitching and spasming. It scared me. Made me tear up. I thought of Urijah and couldn’t breathe for a second. Thought of all the things idiots do to be heard and all the people who have to die in the cross fire for their benefit. Not just idiots though…all the things anyone does to make due. We’re all a bunch of vultures. I hate it sometimes. But wine and cheese and all that good stuff. I need to relearn how to type, dammit, this angers me.
Medical is such a appropriate word for the day. My past month has had me thinking about medical. Feeling like I have been run over by a truck. The tight shoulders, stiff neck, shoulder blades that creek and are stiff. Why can’t the medical industry hel
Us more find the answers to ailments?
I am grateful for acupuncture. Ellen Ona, dear sweet woman has been inserting tiny need,ex in me soon to be three weeks. I don’t know if it is the a upun true but I have had three days of feeling good. I even worked in the studio and feel good. Feeling good, how we take this for granted when we do feel good. To be able to sleep without pain, tur. Without an a he or twinge, to have energy….all this is great. Can our medical industry find a pill, injection to help us all feel good? Maybe it is the Sunshine because the sun has been shining for the past three days, and the temperatures are warmer. Now that is good medicine
That’s strange. I just hung up the phone from talking to a friend about his wife’s surgery. I mean right this second. Or within the last minute, anyway. All went well.
For some reason, my mind has hit on the creme filling in a Twinkie. Why do they spell it that way? Creme. It makes me feel like I’m tumbling in black outer space.
i volunteer at a hospital where i live. i get to see all of the patients and their crazy medical problems. one lady had a black toe and sores all over her foot and body. one man had bruises all up and down the fronts of his legs and his feet were bruised blakc and blue. its fun and it helps me to learn more about health.
Wow. I’m truly surprised that this is my topic. By this time next week, I will be training in a nursing home for my CNA license. I’m beyond excited to go forth and persure a career in medicine, but I must admit, I have never been more nervous about something in my entire life.
A crossfire medical examination made Lucy cross and Larry even crosser. The festering marks on the poor woman’s hands never seemed to go away or lose their color. It was always red. Red, red, red. Very very red. Like a traffic light against the industry skyline of Los Angeles. Pastel red that grew warm sticky in polluted air. And always that tender stinging from the core of the wound to the very edges.
Sticky, all over the back of the chair, so she slumps forward to avoid the yolk. He had thrown the eggs first, but the beaters were unexpected. When she sought medical attention all she wanted was for someone to call him and make sure he was okay.
I think medicine should be accessible to everyone. Even if people have health insurance, they often harbor distrust of their doctors. It’s been shown, for instance, that doctors tend to be less forthcoming with black patients than white ones. And that’s a shame.
My last medical appointment was Tuesday. It was a nightmare! Probes were used on and in places that I won’t even mention.
The medical info is all wrong. Those doctors screwed it up again> I don’t know what to do any more. I need the help, but I;m not getting the help I need.
medical
Oh boy….
Too much I can’t say. But I will say this: Make sure your elderly family members have all their documents in order, so that if there is ever a medical emergency, someone has the authority to help them and advocate on their behalf. Without papers, no one has the authority to view their records, to talk to doctors, or to make decisions on their behalf. Being related by blood does not automatically give you that right. Get durable medical power of attorney papers. Get health care surrogate papers. Get HIPPA forms for individual doctors at the very least. We should all have these filled out for ourselves too. The younger we are, the less we think we need them, but the reality is, tragedy can strike anyone at any age at any time.
Doctors. Official. Pharmacies, drugs, hospitals, heath care, sickness, medicine.
the medical journals were stacked to the ceiling. pages were dog-eared, bindings were broken, and still he felt he didn’t know enough. as he looked over the books he had read over his life, he wondered how this disease could still have gtten the better of him…
I had to go to the doctor for medical reasons. In reality, I was just tired. Sometimes people think being tired means you are sick, but sometimes it just means you are tired. Rest people, rest.
Lots of it will I get better don’t no
Very sad, lonly,not sure I deserve my hubby, want relief, need space, need sleep, need rub downs , don’t wand any more all done, want to feel better.
Need flowers, running water, mountains, space, order, soaking, no more meds, just feel good
No scars,
What else I got nothing elate
60 seconds must be up don’t u think
oh. my. god. medical. i don’t want to hear about it. or do i? medical. what saved my fathers life. it dit. or did it not? maybe the angels saved him. what do I know.
The pain seared my body–the feeling of betrayal rested deep in my bones. I wished desperately that medical attention would cure my broken limbs. A bright light and the smell of cleaning products would be welcome in my world. But it wasn’t that easy. I had to open my eyes and breathe, not resting for a moment. Simply, I had to live on, and it could be the hardest thing to do.
Of all words, medical stares me in the face. Adrienne is in surgery. Karley is receiving her second unit of blood. My life is tangled in medical issues, medical anxiety, medical anger. I am surprised at how negative my reaction is to this word.
I can smell it. It smells like iodine. The slick, sweet medicinal smell just before the needle into the vein that is too small. And there is always that moment when I think, “This was a mistake.” Too late. The blood flows into the bag.
medical
i hate doctors probing at my bits and trying to get me to buy drugs from them. i hate the smell of hospitals like sterile yet decaying all around. i don’t appreciate modern medicine
marijuana at it’s best: it’s this laboratory filled with magical appliances, golden bubbles blossoming out of the pieces he’s constructed. So basically when you walk into the laboratory you get really happy and fulfilled and inspired. Wonderful!
There was a little girl in the room, the doctor knew. He wasn’t one to break news, he left that to other doctors, to nurses, but this girl was in pain, and this was a different case.
“Your daughter,” he said, his voice low and his head bowed, “had pancreatic cancer.” I’m so sorry.
Beep. Beep.
The sound of the IV hooked up to me, ringing in my ears. That annoying sound, repetitive, but which made me oh so glad at the time.
Oh so glad I was alive.
But if I knew what would come after death, I would have been willing that beeping sound to cut out into that long, drawn out drone. The drone of death. Because the afterlife, that place, it’s much better than over here..
There was a doctor. He wasn’t very kind, and he wasn’t very thoughtful, but he todl the truth. He never softened it. He just spoke. His patients were sad when he finished, always, but he never cared. HE just went on. His life was all about the truth, and nothing but.
A medical procedure was necessary. Only then could Matilda be able to recover properly and in the efficient amount of time. Of course this wasn’t easy, the last time she had to undergo medical surgery was when her bike helmet had broken in half from the pick-up truck own the road…Matilda was afraid.
doctor
nurse
hospital
baby
medicare
old people
nursing home
yeah buddy
medicine
medical. expenses.
piling up on broken bones
and weak lungs.
tell me how you can charge someone
when they are sick.
dying.
and being born. is there really a price to that?
I follow this blog called FuckYeahMedicalDiagrams. Its a bunch of art made from diagrams of the human body nd organs. really beautiful. some may think that the human heart or lungs or even brains are morbid, but i think they are just works of art.
Doctors – working too many hours, nurses underpaid and overworked, overcrowded wards, sick people waiting for results, blood tests, x-rays, broken limbs, vomit, run-down facilities, scans
you call my name and I run to you. tiny girl fast breathing, little face but unafraid you shut your eyes breathe deep one last one last you breathe and sigh and tiny smile as you wave good bye and all those around you wail and cry
Mediziner tragen weiße oder grüne Kleidung. Und ich frage mich, wie eine Welt ohne Mediziner aussehen würde. Wenn einfach keiner auf die Idee gekommen wäre, dass man für Schmerzen etwas braucht, was sie heilt. Wenn die Menschen Schmerzen oder andere Veränderungen des Körpers annehmen würden, interessant finden, jedenfalls nicht auf Teufel komm raus beseitigen wollten.
Training to get a medical license is beyond the level of the whims flitting in his head. “Why would you ever think that I would even enjoy that?”
It’s not medical
It’s physical
It’s not metaphorical
It’s not historical
It’s not romantic
It’s not indifferent
It simply is what it is
The medical records department was down in the basement of the clinic, “the dungeon,” as everyone on the staff called it. Kaylee liked being the dungeon master.
The walls had been stripped and the furniture was taken away. On the floor, balls of lint, hair and dust drifted across his feet. The scent lingered, indescribably. There were definite recollections being parsed but of what he wasn’t sure.
The medical miracle that was Margaret was as yet unknown to Margaret herself. She thought herself somewhat average – average looking, average weight, average intelligence, average life. But the doctor who looked inside her head that day, after she had suffered a series of unrelenting headaches, saw something he had never seen before. A small, dark mass that was clearly not a tumor, but was something indeed.
hospital white light i don’t like it problems money nurse doctor no trust crazy people who study it though very important, bad health system third world no vaccines bad
I can’t believe I got stuck with this job again, he thought to himself. The young boy was sent out into the jungle to gather medical plants. It was a dangerous job, but only certain people where smart enough to do it. Grabing the wrong plants meant certain death.
I cant help but think about that two year old, dying on tc. His little lungs expanding to merely nothing, just twitching and spasming. It scared me. Made me tear up. I thought of Urijah and couldn’t breathe for a second. Thought of all the things idiots do to be heard and all the people who have to die in the cross fire for their benefit. Not just idiots though…all the things anyone does to make due. We’re all a bunch of vultures. I hate it sometimes. But wine and cheese and all that good stuff. I need to relearn how to type, dammit, this angers me.
It is a medical fact that a heart is unbreakable. I guess he took that as a challenge.
Medical is such a appropriate word for the day. My past month has had me thinking about medical. Feeling like I have been run over by a truck. The tight shoulders, stiff neck, shoulder blades that creek and are stiff. Why can’t the medical industry hel
Us more find the answers to ailments?
I am grateful for acupuncture. Ellen Ona, dear sweet woman has been inserting tiny need,ex in me soon to be three weeks. I don’t know if it is the a upun true but I have had three days of feeling good. I even worked in the studio and feel good. Feeling good, how we take this for granted when we do feel good. To be able to sleep without pain, tur. Without an a he or twinge, to have energy….all this is great. Can our medical industry find a pill, injection to help us all feel good? Maybe it is the Sunshine because the sun has been shining for the past three days, and the temperatures are warmer. Now that is good medicine
That’s strange. I just hung up the phone from talking to a friend about his wife’s surgery. I mean right this second. Or within the last minute, anyway. All went well.
For some reason, my mind has hit on the creme filling in a Twinkie. Why do they spell it that way? Creme. It makes me feel like I’m tumbling in black outer space.
i volunteer at a hospital where i live. i get to see all of the patients and their crazy medical problems. one lady had a black toe and sores all over her foot and body. one man had bruises all up and down the fronts of his legs and his feet were bruised blakc and blue. its fun and it helps me to learn more about health.
Wow. I’m truly surprised that this is my topic. By this time next week, I will be training in a nursing home for my CNA license. I’m beyond excited to go forth and persure a career in medicine, but I must admit, I have never been more nervous about something in my entire life.
A crossfire medical examination made Lucy cross and Larry even crosser. The festering marks on the poor woman’s hands never seemed to go away or lose their color. It was always red. Red, red, red. Very very red. Like a traffic light against the industry skyline of Los Angeles. Pastel red that grew warm sticky in polluted air. And always that tender stinging from the core of the wound to the very edges.
Sticky, all over the back of the chair, so she slumps forward to avoid the yolk. He had thrown the eggs first, but the beaters were unexpected. When she sought medical attention all she wanted was for someone to call him and make sure he was okay.