Monday, September 21, 2009
Every time I have been to this doctor's office, I leave thinking, "This is how a doctor's office should be run." The most amount of time I've had to wait in the waiting room is 15 minutes. The most I've waited in the exam room is 10 minutes. Each exam room has a computer, so the doctor can update my medical record (and review it) as he's chatting with me. He asks me how I'm doing and actually waits to hear the answer. Every time I go, his nurse does an EKG and he reads it for me. He does the echocardiograms himself and tells me as we're going how things are looking. And before I leave, the doctor meets with me - fully dressed - in his office. I love it!
Today, I told him how much I appreciate the way his office flows. He told me that he likes it, but that it is far too expensive to sustain. Tied to Columbia University, he doesn't have to pay all the bills. But he knows the way he practices doesn't bring in enough money to cover the costs.
What a shame. This is the way medical care should be provided, and it "isn't sustainable."
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
And let me tell you, it felt SO GOOD to be back. As soon as I opened the door and started climbing the stairs, I couldn't hide my smile. I was very happy to spend 30 minutes on an elliptical.
Inspiration came from another place today. The Washington Post had a fabulous article written by a woman who spent her life battling debilitating depression. She found release not through drugs or therapy, but through running. Her story really resonated with me. Clinical depression has been a serious struggle for many people in my family. For me, the best remedy has always been a consistent, challenging workout regimen. This story reminded me why I commit myself to working out. The article is here and the lovely picture that went along with it is here:
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Unfortunately, on rainy days, I tend to be one of the women wearing knee-high rain boots, carrying a big gym bag (hopefully), struggling to keep my umbrella from flipping out.
Ahhh... well ,we can dream, right?
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
I received one of those letters a few days ago. It was from our beloved friend and colleague, Ted Kennedy. He had written it back in May, shortly after he was told that his illness was terminal. He asked that it be delivered upon his death.
In it, he spoke about what a happy time his last months were, thanks to the love and support of family and friends, his wife, Vicki, his amazing children, who are all here tonight.
And he expressed confidence that this would be the year that health care reform -- "that great unfinished business of our society," he called it -- would finally pass.
He repeated the truth that health care is decisive for our future prosperity, but he also reminded me that "it concerns more than material things."
"What we face," he wrote, "is above all a moral issue; at stake are not just the details of policy but fundamental principles of social justice and the character of our country."
One of the unique and wonderful things about America has always been our self-reliance, our rugged individualism, our fierce defense of freedom, and our healthy skepticism of government. And figuring out the appropriate size and role of government has always been a source of rigorous and, yes, sometimes angry debate. That's our history.
For some of Ted Kennedy's critics, his brand of liberalism represented an affront to American liberty. In their minds, his passion for universal health care was nothing more than a passion for big government. But those of us who knew Teddy and worked with him here -- people of both parties -- know that what drove him was something more.
His friend, Orrin Hatch, he knows that. They worked together to provide children with health insurance. His friend, John McCain, knows that. They worked together on a patients' bill of rights. His friend, Chuck Grassley, knows that. They worked together to provide health care to children with disabilities.
On issues like these, Ted Kennedy's passion was born not of some rigid ideology, but of his own experience -- the experience of having two children stricken with cancer.
He never forgot the sheer terror and helplessness that any parent feels when a child is badly sick. And he was able to imagine what it must be like for those without insurance, what it'd be like to have to say to a wife or a child or an aging parent, "There is something that could make you better, but I just can't afford it."
That large-heartedness, that concern and regard for the plight of others is not a partisan feeling. It's not a Republican or a Democratic feeling. It, too, is part of the American character.
Our ability to stand in other people's shoes. A recognition that we are all in this together, that when fortune turns against one of us, others are there to lend a helping hand. A belief that in this country, hard work and responsibility should be rewarded by some measure of security and fair play. And an acknowledgement that sometimes government has to step in to help deliver on that promise.
This has always been the history of our progress.
In 1935, when over half of our seniors could not support themselves and millions had seen their savings wiped away, there were those who argued that Social Security would lead to socialism. But the men and women of Congress stood fast, and we are all the better for it.
In 1965, when some argued that Medicare represented a government takeover of health care, members of Congress, Democrats and Republicans, did not back down.
They joined together so that all of us could enter our golden years with some basic peace of mind.
You see, our predecessors understood that government could not, and should not, solve every problem. They understood that there are instances when the gains in security from government action are not worth the added constraints on our freedom.
But they also understood that the danger of too much government is matched by the perils of too little; that without the leavening hand of wise policy, markets can crash, monopolies can stifle competition, the vulnerable can be exploited.
And they knew that when any government measure, no matter how carefully crafted or beneficial, is subject to scorn; when any efforts to help people in need are attacked as un-American; when facts and reason are thrown overboard and only timidity passes for wisdom, and we can no longer even engage in a civil conversation with each other over the things that truly matter -- that at that point we don't merely lose our capacity to solve big challenges. We lose something essential about ourselves.
That was true then. It remains true today.
I understand how difficult this health care debate has been. I know that many in this country are deeply skeptical that government is looking out for them. I understand that the politically safe move would be to kick the can further down the road, to defer reform one more year, or one more election, or one more term.
But that is not what this moment calls for.
That's not what we came here to do. We did not come to fear the future. We came here to shape it. I still believe we can act even when it's hard.
I still believe...
... I still believe that we can act when it's hard. I still believe we can replace acrimony with civility and gridlock with progress. I still believe we can do great things and that here and now we will meet history's test, because that's who we are. That is our calling. That is our character.
Thank you. God bless you and may God bless the United States of America.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
I find my happiness at your arrival utterly surprising. As a sun lover and summer admirerer, your arrival generally brings sadness at the loss of long summer days, heat waves and vacations in the sun.
But today, I'm grateful for the crispness that's in the air, the bright fall sunshine that is marking the morning. I find myself pleased by your arrival.
So hello September! Please be good to us, and treat us better than The Summer That Wasn't. Thanks!