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Category Archives: Daily Dose

Stanford MedX Day 2: Designing for Change

This is second in a three-article series. To read about Stanford MedX Day 1 first, click here. How do we design better care experiences for both patient and provider? Today at the MedX conference at Stanford, the day started with 2 minutes of silent meditation—in a

Stanford MedX Day 1: A day of thirds

This weekend is my first time attending Stanford MedX, a conference designed around innovation in healthcare. I’m here representing Doctors Who Create, and blogging about some of the things that are making me think. One of the things that excited me about this conference is

The Doctor as Patient, Part I of VI

The mom in my office was exhausted; three weeks without sleeping will not make anyone happy. I was trying to comfort her, making her understand that she has to give up the superwoman syndrome and rest.  Leave pride aside and get help for at least

Feel the Silence

His hands are cold As his lifeless body Lies upon the table At the coroner’s office. My mom is beside me Stroking those fingers, Tears rolling in waves Down her cheeks. I watch in horror, The reality is only now Beginning to sink in To

Provocations on Infrastructure: Flow

Where is that mysterious place that we send all our “labs” to? Everyday, we round and round on the wards, wake up patients, and poke and prod them to get an idea of what they have and get a sample of their tissue. As the

Valentine’s day

On valentine’s day, I watched my first heart stop. I watched the monitor dance as I thrust my aching palms onto his sternum. He lay there, still while his body was rocked and jabbed and compressed in between, he seemed. His body still moaning and

No more

Doctor, do you hear the terror in my broken tenor?   It is but a muffled, garbled front for what, set free, unaltered, would shatter the very windows. and with them, all these vials, within which my sick blood swirls. And those thin panes of

Top 10 Causes of Death in the United States: In Limerick Form

#1: Heart Disease There once was a megalomaniac Who suffered a sudden heart-attack He thought himself best But failed the stress test Vanquished by coronary plaque A man once had hypertension His vessels protesting in distention He simply couldn’t halt His intake of salt Not

He Who Gets Out of Medical School First, Finishes Last

Four years of undergraduate education, four years of medical school and then residency—that is the winding road to becoming a doctor in the United States.  It is long, expensive, and compared to just five years of medical school followed by residency in Pakistan, seemingly ridiculous.

Our Year in Review

Dear readers of Doctors Who Create, Thank you for being our fans and supporters. We know many of you are busy, but we’ve been encouraged by your excitement over our posts and the eagerness of the DWC audience to see more. We are a team

Caring for People by Caring for the Planet

According to the World Health Organization, over 8.2 million people died in 2012 because of the effects of air pollution.  The United Nations environmental agency estimates that one in four deaths globally are due to environmental degradation. Adding an additional estimated 250,000 deaths annually from

Doing Harm?

As the first day of gross anatomy closed in, I tried to prepare myself. The problem was I had few comparable experiences to draw upon—which, when it comes to slicing open a human body, is definitely not a bad thing. There was one dissection in

An Open Letter to You, My Patients

Dear Standardized Patient Number 1, and Number 3, Mr. C from the 3rd Floor of the Reinberg Building, and Ms. P from across the hall, dear Mr. L from just last Thursday, and the Mrs. L I’ll meet one day, Did I ever say thank

Cadaver 4

While the city sleeps tucked beneath a dark embrace my mind hears yours. Talk. I am listening. Though nothing but a frail soul beating in basement of cadavers answers. I know you are here. In the heartbeat of silence I imagine a house, a car,

Sitting on the High

Sitting on the high granite ledge overlooking the fog as it drifted onto the valley floor, obscuring the golden headlights as they weaved on hidden roads, carrying hidden lives, I finally felt a semblance of peace.  I had come here to escape the tragedy that