Flesh is made of fibres...

What strikes me, every once in a while, is the generally sad state of marriage. I mean, I do marriage counseling routinely as part of my practice, that's pretty par for the course. That alone is enough to make people really skeptical about the potential beauty and utility of a good, solid marriage. The craziness that goes on in the privacy of people's homes sometimes downright amazes me.
However, I rationalize, those are PATIENTS - they're coming to see me because their lives are so nuts and they hope that I am able to apply some healing balm to the brokenness of their homes. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't, and sometimes there's a lot of debris left over afterwards, in the form of children, finances, homes, relationship, all broken. And for those that survive the shock and trauma, sometimes the scars and wounds that are left run deep, even if, for all intents and purposes, the 'face' of the household looks like it's back together. Sometimes those scars continue to dog the marriage long after they've decided to keep at it.
What breaks my heart even more is when friends tell me, in confidence, of the state of their marriages. I've noticed it tends to be Christian men who are more honest to me about the state of their marriages. I'm not entirely sure if, for women, there's too much at stake, that they've invested too much in being the princess to their Prince Charming that they cannot admit (and certainly not to a woman who is unmarried, though, honestly, I've seen enough in this world to develop an ennui of 'just how bad it could be') that there is something up. Perhaps the admission that they are not happy, because, as women, we invest so much of ourselves and our identity in our relationships, it is an admission that there is something wrong with us.
At any rate, the stories come: Good, solid Christian men who come to me to tell me not all is right at home. That they struggle often with staying in the home. That they're not sure how to navigate the brokenness of their wives. That they're reluctant to bring children into the world for this reason. That the relentless push for a husband to 'be the spiritual head' is oppressive, and their mistaking that as to have to bear the totality of the blame and the shame in the couple. Of the fights. Of the disappointment and eventual acceptance that this is all the satisfaction that they will get in this life. Of the loss of the passion and light in their lives. Of their second guessing their lives, wondering how they'd ended up with this person for the rest of their lives. It saddens me when they unburden themselves of these terrible secrets. Why me? Probably because partially I do this for a living, partially because I'll never speak of their situations to anyone, partially... who knows?
But I pray. And I pray. And I do see, when I look around the pews, those who are unhappy, but will not admit it either. And I wonder, how can we support those who need help, if they cannot ask? All I can really do is pray for these friends, pray for them, I'm sometimes not even really sure how, and pray that they can make right decisions...

If you could only see yourself in the mirror

It's sometimes the strangest things that re-ignite one's compassion for other people. I think it's awfully easy to wander most of the time with a rather apathetic attitude towards most people one encounters. Indifferent, at best, apathy, most likely.
Last night, a young girl came in, after injecting some junk into her veins that she had been told was meth, but was evidently not once it got in her. She started developing an anaphylactic reaction, which being scary enough, she then got dumped off at the doors of the ER while her "friends" drove away, leaving her on the pavement. She had to get her way to the doors of the emergency room before anyone saw she was there. She was understandably frantic, and we went about our routine work to get her to settle down, which she thankfully did, and then we ultimately transferred her to a more appropriate hospital for care.
However, the poor thing was clearly ravaged by years of drug abuse - you could tell that without the drugs, she could've been a great beauty, but her haggard face and body made her look twice her age. In between her crying episodes and declarations she was going to get off (noble, but unlikely: meth is the worst for most drugs for addictive potential, killing most of its lovers), she said she started when she was only 14, and that her boyfriend was her dealer (so who knows how that relationship benefits her). A sad life, as she lay, half-clothed on our gurney, with her poorly-applied mascara streaming unattractively across her face, an obvious meth mouth where there should've been a set of beautiful young teeth...

Spurious causes and effects

It's funny how superstitious medical personnel get. Re-certifying in my ACLS qualifications a week ago now has us all on tenterhooks here this weekend, waiting for someone to come in complete cardiac arrest. Of course, being the MD here would make me in charge of bringing this hypothetical dead person back to life. This only makes sense, of course, because I'm at my optimal in being able to manage one of those, coming straight out of the classroom, hence, why it should inevitably happen.
We all know this - if someone mentions how the floor, or the ER, is awfully 'quiet', people quickly 'shush' them, thinking that disaster will befall shortly thereafter.
I myself noted that one of the (thankfully) few obstetrical crises I've had to deal with came the day after reading a fictional short story about the very same phenomenon. I kicked myself for reading that book the night before.
And so, I'm studiously avoiding reviewing the algorithms, just in case...

Whoosh! Up in flames!

What I find rather curious is how some have used people's musings on issues on their blogs in order to flame and defame them, and then turn around to then soak the blogger's supporters with petroleum as well.
This has been particularly noted in several postings that I've put up, written by other authors, on Facebook, and then seeing the bloodthirsty battles that then ensue - I suppose I should be thankful that I am able to have a diversity of friends from all over the spectrum of Christendom who can comment on aspects and practices of faith from VERY different viewpoints - but sometimes the aspersions that some make about others, who they don't know and haven't met, are astounding.
Today, even, one friend had posted something on his wall, and in my commenting, had some other guy who I've never met tell me (wow, again, not like I haven't heard this before) that clearly, I'm not a believer and maybe I should read the Bible and authors X, Y and Z (what a big surprise that you would suggest those ones, and not authors A, B and C - probably because you think they're going to hell).
At any rate, in combination with people making assumptions about me by reading this blog, it's amazing what people will do in the relative anonymity of cyberspace. What I find particularly galling is how there are some who have read this page, and, without ever bothering to call or speak to me about it (living in the same city and time zone and all), cast aspersions, create gossip, and make baseless accusations. As if I wouldn't know. Or hoping that I wouldn't know.
For Pete's sake, for a people who are supposed to be easily identifiable by the unity (in diversity) and the love and respect with which we treat one another, I am surprised that there aren't even more people running from the church, screaming and screaming and screaming...