Healthcanc

It's been coming up in therapy that men need to be babied when they are sick. They think they're dying at the first sign of a headache, a cold, weakness, and if they are married, expect their partners to drop everything to take care of them, nurture them. And all their partner wants to say is:   Man up. It's a cold. That's pretty funny, no? Is it true? Are most men big babies when they're down for the count? Sometimes, surely not universally. We all know men who refuse to stay home from work when they have a cold, even a fever, or who might stay home but won't call their moms to make them chicken soup. They make it themselves, or order in, or do without. Are the less needy ones the same men who second shift, who know that there are other things that have to be done, more important things than lying around to wait for the fever to pass? Maybe. But it is more likely they had to take care of themselves as kids, didn't have a mommy hovering over them when they c...

Hold that thought , my reflex when a patient mentions a wish, has a dreamy look in his eye, imagines something positive, a new possibility. Hold onto that, even if it might not come to pass, still, hold onto it, the possibility. You never know. And there's plenty of time to feel badly if it doesn't. It wasn't just me. Last year, 2016, was a monster, and nobody warned us. So we're not looking back, we're moving on. ( 1)   Best Laid Plans I scheduled loosely, two patients in the morning, two in the late afternoon, hoping to get a little quality time with one of the grandkids, still on winter break, a person who makes the most sense to me. It is worth it, driving back from work to take him out, having to drive back again later, just to have that time alone, give the relationship a little more meat, a few solid memories. Good memories we're hoping for. The Plan: We would return to the North Park Village Nature Center, the one promising a really nice, scenic nature...

Did I spell it right? Should it be Hanukah? Or Chanucha? Hannukkah? You can't win when you transliterate.  Western Wall Chanukiah (menorah) Tonight is the first night of Chanukah, an 8-day Jewish holiday that celebrates a miracle. Oh! It's Xmas Eve, too. But you know that story, and honestly, I don't, so let's stick with our strong suits and talk a bit about Chanukah, because it is an underdog beats tyrant-who-isn't-religiously-tolerant  victory story, and nothing makes us feel better than an underdog walking off with the trophy. In a nutshell (we've been cracking them all day long): The Greeks ransacked The Temple  in Jerusalem and did not allow the Jews to practice their religion anymore. (No Sabbath, no Torah, no tradition). We got the Temple back, big fight, and wanted to re-light the  menorah , the  n er tamid ,  a lamp that is never supposed to go out, never did when the Jews were in charge. But they were booted for awhile, and it did go out. But afte...

A good friend of mine is leaving the country, going home, and she might never come back. She isn't leaving because she fears deportation, rather, she hasn't seen her mother in many years. The older woman is getting on, is in her nineties.  The younger begs her friends to understand: "I have to see my Mommy. If not now, when?"  We know what she means. The littlest things can make you think about parents when they're no longer with you, when you can't just call or visit anymore. FD and I used to have a tradition, inspired in part by my mother. In December she would give me money in a birthday card (out of her social security), and I was to take FD to the opera. Mom, a  Dancing With the Stars person, knew we loved the Lyric, but in those days it was cost-prohibitive; we didn't go very often. The idea, to get us out of our  work-til-you-drop rut, was a good one. The subtext, maybe, think of your mother while you marvel at the theater, the people, the product...

Here's the snap : Impatient with Patients: The What Else Is New It often happens that someone (in therapy) will say, "I’m doing great! So much better!" And in the very next breath it is: "Actually, then (this happened), and (that happened). But still. . . I handled it so well. . ."  And you are waiting.  There is a pause. Maybe even a short one, the response could even be sans pause and pow!  The patient looks right at you, the mood has changed, the patient narrows his eyes, might even scowl, becomes a different person, his old self, for he remembers.  "I’m just really, really angry at . . ." and another story tumbles out, same story, same offender, or some other offender, on a good day there may be multiple offenders, persons who share the responsibility, the blame for the change in mood. Even if the patient attributes a good reason, an empathetic reason for offender behavior, the narcissistic injury stings.   A narcissistic injury, just to digress...

In my day you used a safety-pin to fasten a diaper. A really good safety-pin had a hard plastic head made of pink or blue, maybe yellow. A patient asked me, What's up with the safety pin? (The one on my blouse). I answered that it was a solidarity thing with minorities, people who are at risk. Then I remembered the Holocaust and that story. . .  Martin Niemöller In Germany, they came first for the Communists, And I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist; And then they came for the trade unionists, And I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist; And then they came for the Jews, And I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew; And then . . . they came for me . . . Should we be worried, fearful that the American way of life, liberty and justice for all, will disappear? Could America become more like Germany in the late nineteen-thirties and forties, or Russia, ruled by one leader, one party?  Rather than worry, some have taken to wearing safety pins...

I know, I know I said it. I said that both Mr. Trump and Mrs, Clinton needed therapy (last post). People are taking down their FaceBook accounts because of things they have said publicly, and this should worry me.  But that was yesterday. And the theme of this blog, remember, is that everyone needs therapy.  So it isn't an insult, okay? President-Elect Donald Trump acceptance speech Today, the day after the election, I'm thinking more of the President-Elect. No matter the personality we saw during the contest, he knows this country better, more intimately, than any of us . We underestimated him.   And this intimacy, this knowledge, is the reason he won the election without contest.  It is why he said he would give us hell if Mrs. Clinton had been elected, that he wouldn't accept the election results. He knew . He had his finger on the pulse of America all along, when nobody else did.  America, to most of us, has been the America that is outspoken, everyone shout...