rural doctoring

I read Grampa’s Solo Visits this am and it makes me laugh.

Since I have been a family doctor in my town of 9000 for 22 years, the grocery store and coffee shops can be interesting. When I moved here, my daughter was two and my son was seven. We have three grocery stores. I usually go to the one 7 blocks from my house. I would see patients. My diabetics would sometimes look guilty and scurry away when they saw me. Another patient comes to peer in my cart.

“I want to know if YOU are eating healthy food.” he says.

I laugh.

“I don’t see any vegetables.” he says.

“I am in a CSA,” I say. “I get a box from the farm once a week.”

He frowns. “Do you get to choose?”

“No,” I say. “But since I hate throwing vegetables out, we eat more vegetables. Also, we eat ones that are unfamiliar. The first time I got celery root, I had to look it up. I didn’t know what it was.”

He nods. “Hmmm. Ok. We want to be sure you practice what you preach.”

I laugh again. “I sneak in to get the ice cream at midnight, ok? And where is YOUR cart?”

“My wife has it,” he says. “You don’t get to see it.”

“Ok, then. Have a great day.”

When we were first in town, occasionally someone would come start talking about their health in a store.

“I can’t discuss your health in front of my children. HIPAA.”

“Oh,” they’d say, “Uh, yeah. I should call the clinic Monday?”

“Yes, please.”

We had a coffee shop that made the best pastries that I’ve had since I was an exchange student in Denmark. I wished they’d make tiny pastries, bite size, for the diabetic folks. Those folks would slide a newspaper over their plate when I walked in with my family. They looked terribly guilty. I might nod, but I wouldn’t say anything. Sometimes they would confess at the next visit.

There are lots of jobs in small towns where people are very much public figures. Not just doctors, but the people who work for the city and the county, the ones who redo the taxes for homes, the realtors, all sorts.

After I was divorced, another doc at the hospital asks, “Dating someone new?”

I frown, “How do you know?”

She grins, “He lives on my street. I saw you.”

Dang it. The rumor mill is very very efficient and can often be fabulously wrong. That time it was correct, though I don’t think she passed it around. Other people live on the street.

A few days ago someone that looked familiar walks by me. “What are you doing with so-and-so?”

I laugh. “Rumors abound.” I say. “You would not believe the rumors!”

I took the photograph of the coyote yesterday, driving home. Stopped dead in my lane, no one else on the road. People will be stopped in the road here, talking to each other in two cars going opposite directions, or talking to a friend on foot.

Volume of water

We check the tides before we go walk the beaches on the Olympic Peninsula. I am learning the patterns of the tide locally. On North Beach, the tide is about an hour later each day. However, low tide is at a different time further out the Olympic Peninsula. I had to think about that a bit.

Picture the tide a low with the Salish Sea volume down. Then the tide turns and starts flowing back in. The Salish Sea is like the roots of a tree, with a main trunk and then branches and branches and more branches. There is water coming in from the land, from streams and from rivers, but the tide rolls in from the trunk first and then spreads through all of the roots. I have a tide table for the peninsula for this year, and it has tables for multiple different sites! Most days we have two high and two low tides, but once in a while the low goes out so little that it matches both highs, and we only have two tides that day, a high and a low!

I took the photograph at Dungeness Spit this month. The tide was nearly low when we started walking and we only went 2-3 miles down the spit and turned back. It is beautiful! Check the weather, check the tides and always take something rain proof, even in July. Our water is not warm.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: volume.

Bird talk

A photo tale from a hike last week.

Her: “I think we should discuss our future.”

Him: “Well, um.”

Her: “Wait. Are you trying to tell me something?”

Her: “Is there someone else!!?!”

Him: “I was going to tell you!”

Her: “You lying scum.”

Him: “Wait! Oh, no, she’s GONE.”

__________________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: create.

These are Pigeon Guillemots, more here.

Photographs taken on Marrowstone Island last week.

sending flowers

I was “separated” from a website for “not explicitly breaking the rules”. Hey, it’s a “woke” website and wow, I guess I was annoying, or the editors are insane, or something. The eds who had become friends over the years didn’t know a thing about it. The owner removed me.

Now I am removing every reference to that site from my blog, over time.

So here is a poem from a week ago, to “honor” the insane editors. I do think they need to vet them a little better, heh. But if the owner doesn’t mind the site imploding and dying, hey, he has chosen the best editors for the job.

______________________

Eeeeeeeeeew eww

eeeeeeeew eww
I’m annoyed at you
don’t you see you’re inconveniencing me?
don’t you see you shoot yourself in the knee?
don’t you see choices so dumb I could scream?
don’t you see
you’re destroying the dream

eeeeeeeew too
I’m so annoyed at you
but I’ll forgive you your sins
after I stick you with pins
and laugh many many grins
you’re sent to bed without dins

eeeeeeeeew too
I’m so annoyed at you
but I don’t really care
I think it’s totally fair
that you’re dissolving out there
in the cloud unaware
and no one else cares

eeeeeeeeew too
don’t cry a boohooo
you reap what you sow
I won’t cry when you go
sad to see you sunk so low
advertisment ho
drunk funked skunked bro
yeah, ed, he don’t know
sentimental slop woe
stinking slow to grow

eeeeeeeeew too
is yo owner a ghoul?
I think you raised up some fools
I mourn the loss of some jewels
when sad stupidity rules
some eds is fool mules
I carve yo gravestone with tools

behavioral health, cancer, and the immune system

There are more and more articles about immune causes of “behavioral health” diagnoses.

The latest I’ve read is about schizophrenia:

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-020-63776-0

Auto-antibodies are antibodies that we make against something else that then attack a part of ourselves. The most well know version of an auto-antibody is Rheumatic Fever, where an antibody to streptococcus A attacks the joints or skin or heart. I had a patient in Colorado who needed a new heart valve at age 10 or 11 because of Rheumatic Fever.

I have written a lot about PANDAS and PANS (respectively Pediatric Autoimmune Neuropsychiatric Disorders Associated with Strep A and Pediatric Acute Neuropsychiatric Syndrome) because an older psychiatrist was suspicious that I have PANS. I have had pneumonia four times and it is accompanied by anxiety and fear, part of which turns out to be hypoxia and tachycardia. I think a heart rate of 135 makes just about ANYONE feel anxious. It feels awful.

But what about other Behavioral Health Diagnoses? Remember, we are on the DSM V, the fifth manual of psychiatric diagnoses. We have not had markers or a clear cause. That is, we are aware that serotonin is low in the intracellular spaces in the brain with depression but we don’t know what the mechanism is, what the cause is and what exactly is happening in the neuron or brain cells. A paper on a particular rat neuron said that there were 300 different types of serotonin receptors on that neuron. Blocking one type caused rats to act in an obsessive compulsive manner. But there are 299 others and then combinations. Whew, there is a lot to be learned about the brain.

Fibromyalgia can be caused by autoantibodies, at least some of the cases: https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2021/07/210701120703.htm

Chronic fatigue: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/34441971/

Lupus and fibromyalgia overlap: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/9207710/

Autoimmune disorders are more common in women. We think this is because of pregnancy. The woman’s immune system has to tolerate a pregnancy where half the genetic material is from the father. Yet the immune system also has to recognize “not me, infection” and be able to distinguish that from the pregnancy. This is tricky. The most common autoimmune disorder currently is believed to be Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, where there are self antibodies to the thyroid. Post covid could potentially beat this out.

Chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia have been orphan diseases in that we do not have an inflammation marker that defines them. The ESR (erythrocyte sedimentation rate) and CRP (um) are usually normal. These are often elevated in rheumatological disorders. Not having a marker doesn’t mean that the muscles are not painful and doesn’t mean that the fatigue is not real.

I am hopeful that we are on the cusp of a true revolution in medicine, with more understanding of the immune system and behavioral health disorders, as well as post covid, fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue. I worked at the National Cancer Institute in the 1980s before medical school, with Steve Rosenberg, MD. He was trying to get the immune system to fight cancer.

Now there has been a cancer treatment with 100% success: an immune treatment for people with rectal cancer with a particular immune profile. This is AMAZING! https://www.zmescience.com/science/experimental-trial-cancer-complete-remission-02725735/

Only 18 patients, but 100% success! No surgery.

The patch for the National Cancer Institute shows a man fighting a crab: Cancer, the crab. Dr. Rosenberg talked about Sysiphus, who was rolling a stone up a mountain eternally while it rolled back on him. From here: Later legend related that when Death came to fetch him, Sisyphus chained Death up so that no one died. Finally, Ares came to aid Death, and Sisyphus had to submit. In the meantime, Sisyphus had told his wife, Merope, not to perform the usual sacrifices and to leave his body unburied. Thus, when he reached the underworld, he was permitted to return to punish her for the omission. Once back at home, Sisyphus continued to live to a ripe old age before dying a second time.

Maybe the stone has reached a resting place. Blessings and peace you. Please peace me.