:: to the teeth ::   thoughts on social justice, medicine, race, hope and beats "Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing." :: Arundhati Roy :: "The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don't have any." :: Alice Walker :: |
Monday, February 19, 2007
There's always the option of self-diagnosing...
From yesterday's Dilbert (click on the cartoon for an enlarged, easier-to-read view): more Dilbert cartoons here. posted by Unknown | 2/19/2007 09:03:00 PM | (0) comments | Thursday, February 15, 2007 "Medicine is a noble profession. You render it shameful."
...or "the tale of an unlucky appendix, at the hands of the daughters of charity, in the city of angels." Robert Issai
Source: "Medical Larceny" by Barbara Ehrenreich, in the Huffington Post Mr. Ehrenreich is author Barbara Ehrenreich's son. She says this about the issue: The odd thing is that many politicians and pundits believe that the only way to control health costs is to get consumers to limit their consumption of health care - as if an appendectomy, for example, was a kind of self-indulgence. In my son's case, we have someone who is vividly aware of his health care costs, if only because he bears so much of them. His letter is not only an individual complaint but an act of good citizenship. We all need to be prepared to blow the whistle on medical larceny. There are some interesting comments and perspectives written by readers of the post, at the link above. Imagine what kind of discourse and building and action could grow from folks around the country sharing these stories? What's your story? (cross-posted at Los Anjalis) posted by Unknown | 2/15/2007 09:57:00 PM | (0) comments | Saturday, February 10, 2007 An unfinished poem... I don't know if I will ever finish it, so here it is. Not sure if it works or flows.
Sri On AIDS in Something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand This Tanzanian woman Sings as she breast feeds They say it was the rain But it was always my tears and sweat Which brought up the maize They said the railroads Will bring a new day But it was always diamonds going with the sunset The other way ----------------And now she dies and is dying ------------------- Something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand This Tanzanian woman Brilliant orange head wrap Red African mud between her toes Any pill Anything close to healing She does not hold in the palm of her hand. ----------------------- her left breast sags in the sun. ribs exposed continuum with the spine of her too large wooden chair she resembles the chair both of them frail twigs ready to snap ------------------------- a pill something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand her hands scathed rough as maize husk she dies and is dying her 5 month old baby boy born at dawn suckles at her dry left breast he suckles ashes from her left breast -------------------------------------------- something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand Who owns this pill? What plant or human genome extract gave birth to it? Who cut the compound, packaged into compact cure? In which boardroom, what lawyers patented it? Blue suits and leather suitcases tucking death into the space between fine print --------- Who keeps the cash? Which markets rose while she fell? Which corporate graph will track her demise? Who will clench their fists one over the other as she opens her hand? -------------------------- This Tanzanian woman Her baby boy born at dawn Who will began to ask for a moratorium on their death penalty? Something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand -------------------------- Who will join this standing up? A reach to claim the pill demand the pill And place it in her hand Something as simple And good As healing A pill in the palm of her hand Sri 2/9/07 posted by srijeeva | 2/10/2007 12:42:00 PM | (1) comments | |
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