I'm not a big fan of big Pharma. There's a good reason for my attitude. Many drug companies are selling hype rather than bona fide drugs. And some of those big drug companies have been caught outright lying. Merck has already been shown to have killed tens of thousands of…
Summer of 2004. I have considered myself an atheist at least since the summer of 2004. For the sake of feeling smart and consistent, I believe I’ve considered myself an atheist for much longer. But I only have documented evidence of such a stance dating back to the summer of 2004.
Did I have some great logical awakening that roused me to critical thinking and clear-headedness? No. I know I did not. I know I didn’t become a perfect bastion of scientific thinking because, in the summer of 2004, I believed in handwriting analysis.
A knowledge-thirsty little 10th grader, I still believed then that if someone with a PhD wrote a book, that book had to contain gospel truth. I didn’t know the difference between bad science and good science. I didn’t even realize such a rift existed. So handwriting analysis, with all of its certain language and its sheer lack of cited empirical evidence, seemed as valid as medicine or geology.
Only half a year or so later, as I struggled to tell a friend that the dominating middle region in her script belied a permanently childish outlook, did I begin to realize exactly how idiotic this whole graphology thing sounded.
Ouch. It still stings to admit. Should I also admit that I used to take multivitamins? That I preferred bottled water over tap? Evidence supports none of these beliefs.
I hope I’ve made my point clearly: atheism did not protect me from having moronic …
Sometimes, my body has a strong opinion with which I disagree.
Here’s a good recent example: My body doesn’t like getting stuck with hypodermic syringes. When I refuse to allow my body to leave the doctor’s office and when I allow my body to get jabbed with a hypodermic needle, it retaliates by fainting. It’s one of those things that I completely forget about until I’m sitting in a doctor’s office overly aware that I’m about to be stuck again. At such moments, my body reacts in a way that embarrasses and annoys me.
Here’s a bit of context. For the past few months, I’ve had some nagging back and arm pain. On a lark, I signed up for some acupuncture administered by a chiropractor. Getting stuck with those little acupuncture needles didn’t give me big problems—not that I enjoyed the sensation of those tiny needles being pushed into my back. After three treatments, I gave up on the acupuncture because it didn’t offer any long-term effect (although each treatment relieved my symptoms a bit, for a few hours).
My next step was to see my family physician, who arranged for x-rays. He told me that I had “arthritis” and suggested some physical therapy. [Before going any further, anyone reading this should probably email me a HIPPA form].
I was hoping for more of a pinpoint diagnosis, though, so I visited a doctor who specialized in Physical Medicine & Rehabilitation. He arranged for an MRI, resulting in some fascinating pictures …
Not very difficult, according to Jeffrey Sachs. Hard as it is for us to imagine, Africa's households simply can't afford even $10 for a net, or a dollar for medicines when a child falls sick. Nor can African governments carry these costs on meager budgets or take extra vital steps…
In a tragic story from my own state of Wisconsin, an 11-year-old girl died last week because her parents trusted God to heal her. The parents apparently didn't realize that their child had diabetes, so they never sought medical help. Instead, they prayed. Though not reported in the StarTribune article,…