is a writer and publicist at Anstruther Press
Illness doesn’t end when you leave the doctor’s office. Affliction is carried, and pain is, as Shane Neilson writes, “a concerto in your back pocket.” As a writer with bipolar disorder and chronic pain, I’ve often felt utterly lost, blinded by . For many, the fundamental question of medicine is not how to be fixed (for it’s often not possible), but how to live one’s life, broken. Physician and pain researcher ’s trilogy of poetry collections from Porcupine’s Quill leads by example.
“Practitioners, be they health care professionals to begin with or not, must be prepared to offer the self as a therapeutic instrument," (p. 215) writes Charon in . Neilson, with one foot perpetually planted in medical practice and the other in love, unflinchingly offers himself to his readers ...continue reading
is a CMAJ Associate Editor and a professor of primary care in Northern Ireland, UK
They found the body. A . Dr Rose Polge left her hospital shift two months previously and had not been seen since. Her car was found parked by the sea.
A young doctor took her own life. I wanted to write about it at the time but it was difficult to find the words. It seemed to me a tragedy, a great loss of a young life full of potential. But, these words cannot capture quite what I felt. Where have we gone wrong?
It brought me back. I remembered my first year after qualification. It was brutal; a shock. Suddenly I felt I carried all the responsibility. I saw seriously ill patients in the middle of the night and had to make critical decisions. It was a small hospital. I was the cardiac arrest team. The tiredness was unrelenting, the gnawing anxiety continuous. ...continue reading