NOTE: I hit publish on this piece accidentally yesterday. I am not sure how many of you have received it, so I am publishing it here again. Here is the piece: I was fresh out of an inpatient 3-month stint in Hazelden for prescription narcotic addiction, and Lea and I
Henry thinks it's silly. He's sitting across from his wife Dawn in a counselor's office, and Dawn is upset — genuinely, tearfully upset — because Henry doesn't give her gifts. Birthdays. Christmas. Whatever. No gifts. And Henry is doing what I would have done,
I came across this story on Facebook, reposted by Hassan Ibrahim, a friend and colleague from the University of Minnesota: I know the exact pressure it takes to crack a rib during CPR. But last Tuesday, I learned a patient’s silence can break a doctor’s soul. His name
Yesterday, I had the great honor of being able to give a talk to the medical students at the University of Minnesota who are enrolled in a course called "Becoming a Doctor." My talk was called "A Filled Up Life or Fulfilled Life: It's a