Doc: Why doesn’t my physician see me anymore when I’m in the hospital?
I hope you have at least one dear friend you can count on for anything. I am blessed with many.
One such friend to me is Gus Floodquist. You may know him as one of the smiling faces at SmartBank. I know him as Gustaaaaahv, the high school buddy that I roomed with briefly in college. Gus was in the Army ROTC at UT, and many a day I, along with other roommates, would tear into his MRE’s when he wasn’t looking, purely out of a desire for self-preservation.
The daffodils are blooming and my beloved pear trees are bestowing their splendor on the community. In the distance, one can hear the sound of lawnmowers cranking up two weeks before anyone else as the retired neighbors who have devoted their golden years to ensuring that their lawns look like they have been transplanted from the ninth fairway at Augusta shame the rest of us who are still trying to make a permanent end to the remaining fall leaves that we never got entirely cleared away before winter arrived.
Tasked with regularly writing editorials for The Mountain Press, I’ve watched the Tennessee Legislature more closely this session than ever before in my life.
March 21 was an amazing day for me, perhaps one of my best as a parent.
Medical research now says you might live longer because of your marriage.
In some ways, newspapers are a little like jobs.
In 1992, Lynn Faust read an article in Science News written by mathematician Steven Strogatz. The Article explained the subject of synchronized flashing of fireflies known to exist in Southeast Asia.
As I wrote today’s editorial, I felt an overwhelming sadness.
It’s not because I’ll likely soon have to get a prescription for Sudafed — a cold and sinus medication I use for treatment of what we East Tennesseans like to call “sinuses.” I’m already used to feeling like a criminal when I approach the pharmacy counter to request a box, only to get the suspicious eye of the pharmacy tech.
Q: I've heard a lot about concussions recently. What is the best way to treat them?
A: Do nothing. Absolutely nothing. And it seems to work well.
The world can be an indifferent place, and I can attest that it does not filter its harshness based on race, gender, religion or creed. When it chooses to beat someone up, all creatures are subject to its authority, and it will mercilessly kick you when you’re down.
Every few weeks, my mental well runs dry. Coming up with column and editorial ideas day after day can get taxing. So today, I’m going to be all over the map, hitting on little pieces of this and that I’ve found interesting.
As you are reading this column with your eyes, pause for a moment and think about what a wonder they are.
For those of you that currently have or have had in the past a teenage child, you understand as well as I that raising a teenager is not dissimilar to spending seven years in purgatory.
Just moments after I awoke this past Monday morning from a fitful night of sleep, I received an unexpected call.
Doc: I heard of this new drug, Dangitol, that treats anxiety. Will you prescribe it? (OK, I stretched that a bit.)
It’s amazing what good people can do when they feel they’re backed into a corner.
You might remember reading in an earlier column that two years ago, I moved back home to Tennessee after 13 years in Madison, Wis.
Q: Do the physicians you know still enjoy being in medicine with all of the changes that are occurring?
For over 200 years now men across the western world have dreaded Feb. 14.
In order to get some understanding of my son, one must sneak up to the wall that is autism and peek through the windows. I have had that privilege thousands and thousands of times.
I remember Oct. 1, 1994, like it was yesterday.
This coming Sunday is Super Bowl Sunday. Now I know that this won’t interest everyone, but it is a once a year ritual that we go through in this country, as we watch the two best NFL teams. Football is not just a man’s game, many women really enjoy, and get into these winter spectaculars.
The life of a journalist is never dull. There's rarely a day that goes by that doesn't hold at least one "Did that really just happen?" moment.