Words of health
05/05/16 05:26
Our mother was a registered nurse and we were raised with a healthy respect for scientific medicine. Mother had definite biases about what now is termed “alternative medicine.” She was outspoken in her belief that physicians trained in medical schools were superior to others. She took us to an ophthalmologist and not an optometrist because the ophthalmologist had more eduction. We were taught to respect and regularly visit medical professionals. Her children don’t share all of her biases, but we have grown into adults who have enjoyed fairly good health and have been responsible consumers of health care.
When I was young the two words that came up most commonly in a physician visit were “accident” and “illness.” Other than a routine school sports physical, I didn’t see a physician all that often. Usually a doctor’s visit was the result of an accident. I fell off of the scaffolding when preparing a large fuel tank for painting and hit by elbow hard. The doctor examined me and determined that there was no fracture. I received a short pep talk about being more careful about accidents. A similar experience occurred when I fell while climbing on rocks in the mountains and bruised my heel. We weren’t sick much as children and when we did contract a cold or other illness our mother’s treatments were generally sufficient, but I was taken to the doctor a couple of times when my symptoms were mysterious to our mother or when she felt a dose of antibiotics were required.
As I grew older, I became a pilot, which required an active medical certificate and regular examinations by an authorized physician.
Although doctors continued to ask me about seat belt use and other risk factors, somewhere along the line “accident” and “illness” were replaced by “diet” and “exercise” as the most common words in my visits to the doctor’s office. “Diet” and “exercise” have been the theme for the majority of my life. As a minister, our insurance plan pays for an annual wellness examination and with a few exceptions, I have taken advantage of that to undergo routine diagnostic and lab tests. I have been blessed with excellent health, though I have plenty of relatives, including my mother, who suffered from diabetes and I know well the effects of diet and exercise on my overall health. My intentions have been good and I have not suffered from a lack of information about diet and exercise. In fact I once commented to a physician that the reason I am overweight is not because of a lack of information. It became a kind of a joke with that doctor because of the habit of doctors of providing patient information and education. I’ve left the doctor’s office with plenty of pamphlets and articles about various diet and exercise programs.
I expected “diet” and “exercise” to be the main topics of conversation with my physicians until the end of my life unless a major illness took over.
I have been surprised, however, to discover that just recently in my visits to the doctor “diet” and “exercise” have now been replaced by “age” and “gender.” It isn’t exactly a welcome change in vocabulary. This year my doctor spent a few minutes reporting to me that my biggest risk factors for disease were my age and gender. I replied that I didn’t think that there was anything I could do about either of those things. Accident, illness, diet and exercise were all things for which I could take responsibility and make lifestyle changes to influence. I’m committed when it comes to age and gender. One seems to be going in the “wrong” direction and the other seems to be permanently fixed.
Of course I’m exaggerating a bit. I’ve had very positive relationships with doctors over the years and I’ve been fortunate to have been served by practitioners who are genuinely committed to my health and who have given me high quality care. They have not been prone to giving long lectures or making insensitive remarks.
It is, however, simply true that I am mortal. At some point, I will die. In the meantime I am aging and the effects of my age will continue to be a factor in my overall health. A student of life insurance actuarial tables will quickly discover that the life expectancy for men in my age is shorter than that for women. Statistics, however, are predictive only for groups of people, not for individuals. My doctor can look up my risk factors and say that some percentage of people my age and gender will experience a heart attack in the next year. A small percentage of risk, however, doesn’t say anything specific about what will or will not occur to me. As a result, much of modern medicine is reactive. We go to the doctor after a health event has occurred.
Modern medical practitioners deal primarily with responding to illness or injury rather than maintaining overall wellness. It reminds me of the French proverb, plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose: the more things change the more they stay the same. Accidents and illnesses remain the major threats to my health and wellness. Preventing them seems to be the best way to life a healthy and productive life.
I have no desire to live forever. I’m at home with my mortality. I would, however, like to remain fully capable for all of my life. This may be an unrealistic expectation. Virtually every person experiences some period of disability toward the end of life. Unless one dies as the result of a sudden and traumatic event, there is usually a bit of disability. So far the minor disabilities that I have experienced of less clear eyesight and some loss of hearing have been easily addressed by eyeglasses and learning to listen more carefully. I’ll probably end up with a hearing aid at some point, but I’d prefer to keep my disabilities at a minimum.
I do, however, have on advantage over some of my peers. I have spent a lot of time with people who live with a wide variety of disabilities and I know what meaningful lives are possible with disabilities.
Whatever words my doctor uses the most, I know that I remain responsible for my attitude and my approach to life. I am not able to limit myself to two words only, so I’ll go with three words, directly from the Bible: “faith, hope and love . . . and the greatest of these is love.”
When I was young the two words that came up most commonly in a physician visit were “accident” and “illness.” Other than a routine school sports physical, I didn’t see a physician all that often. Usually a doctor’s visit was the result of an accident. I fell off of the scaffolding when preparing a large fuel tank for painting and hit by elbow hard. The doctor examined me and determined that there was no fracture. I received a short pep talk about being more careful about accidents. A similar experience occurred when I fell while climbing on rocks in the mountains and bruised my heel. We weren’t sick much as children and when we did contract a cold or other illness our mother’s treatments were generally sufficient, but I was taken to the doctor a couple of times when my symptoms were mysterious to our mother or when she felt a dose of antibiotics were required.
As I grew older, I became a pilot, which required an active medical certificate and regular examinations by an authorized physician.
Although doctors continued to ask me about seat belt use and other risk factors, somewhere along the line “accident” and “illness” were replaced by “diet” and “exercise” as the most common words in my visits to the doctor’s office. “Diet” and “exercise” have been the theme for the majority of my life. As a minister, our insurance plan pays for an annual wellness examination and with a few exceptions, I have taken advantage of that to undergo routine diagnostic and lab tests. I have been blessed with excellent health, though I have plenty of relatives, including my mother, who suffered from diabetes and I know well the effects of diet and exercise on my overall health. My intentions have been good and I have not suffered from a lack of information about diet and exercise. In fact I once commented to a physician that the reason I am overweight is not because of a lack of information. It became a kind of a joke with that doctor because of the habit of doctors of providing patient information and education. I’ve left the doctor’s office with plenty of pamphlets and articles about various diet and exercise programs.
I expected “diet” and “exercise” to be the main topics of conversation with my physicians until the end of my life unless a major illness took over.
I have been surprised, however, to discover that just recently in my visits to the doctor “diet” and “exercise” have now been replaced by “age” and “gender.” It isn’t exactly a welcome change in vocabulary. This year my doctor spent a few minutes reporting to me that my biggest risk factors for disease were my age and gender. I replied that I didn’t think that there was anything I could do about either of those things. Accident, illness, diet and exercise were all things for which I could take responsibility and make lifestyle changes to influence. I’m committed when it comes to age and gender. One seems to be going in the “wrong” direction and the other seems to be permanently fixed.
Of course I’m exaggerating a bit. I’ve had very positive relationships with doctors over the years and I’ve been fortunate to have been served by practitioners who are genuinely committed to my health and who have given me high quality care. They have not been prone to giving long lectures or making insensitive remarks.
It is, however, simply true that I am mortal. At some point, I will die. In the meantime I am aging and the effects of my age will continue to be a factor in my overall health. A student of life insurance actuarial tables will quickly discover that the life expectancy for men in my age is shorter than that for women. Statistics, however, are predictive only for groups of people, not for individuals. My doctor can look up my risk factors and say that some percentage of people my age and gender will experience a heart attack in the next year. A small percentage of risk, however, doesn’t say anything specific about what will or will not occur to me. As a result, much of modern medicine is reactive. We go to the doctor after a health event has occurred.
Modern medical practitioners deal primarily with responding to illness or injury rather than maintaining overall wellness. It reminds me of the French proverb, plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose: the more things change the more they stay the same. Accidents and illnesses remain the major threats to my health and wellness. Preventing them seems to be the best way to life a healthy and productive life.
I have no desire to live forever. I’m at home with my mortality. I would, however, like to remain fully capable for all of my life. This may be an unrealistic expectation. Virtually every person experiences some period of disability toward the end of life. Unless one dies as the result of a sudden and traumatic event, there is usually a bit of disability. So far the minor disabilities that I have experienced of less clear eyesight and some loss of hearing have been easily addressed by eyeglasses and learning to listen more carefully. I’ll probably end up with a hearing aid at some point, but I’d prefer to keep my disabilities at a minimum.
I do, however, have on advantage over some of my peers. I have spent a lot of time with people who live with a wide variety of disabilities and I know what meaningful lives are possible with disabilities.
Whatever words my doctor uses the most, I know that I remain responsible for my attitude and my approach to life. I am not able to limit myself to two words only, so I’ll go with three words, directly from the Bible: “faith, hope and love . . . and the greatest of these is love.”