"You want the truth! You can't handle the truth! No truth handler you! Bah! I deride your truth handling abilities!"
-- Bob Terwilliger

What’s good for the goose…

Well, here’s my poor bud Kaveman trying to drag his broken body about his place after a day of skiing. As a doctor, I can hardly condone the statement “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”, but I have to admit this seems to ring true in much of Kaveman’s life… After all, his recurrent bouts of car trouble have only made him a tough nut to crack for auto mechanics (which translates into better estimates, and hence a more robust financial health picture), the pain from exercise over-exertion translates directly into extra sympathy points (which, as any MD worth her salt knows, emotional health translates into much more longevity than physical health. An average of 16 years of life.), or mockery (which may shorten one’s lifespan, but at least gives one the tools with which to handle stress effectively. If Kav putting his hand through a wall could be classed as effective.). Either way, my best friend did NOT indeed die, and IS indeed all the stronger for it.

Same bat time, same bat channel next Sunday? :D

Cheers,
The Grabber

PS: As for my actual patients, what doesn’t kill them – well, it doesn’t actually doesn’t seem to make them any stronger. Case in point: my non-compliant adolescent renal transplant patient, who comes to ER looking like death warmed over, and complains he can’t have a smoke. Nearly died of his Pneumococcal sepsis, and now has all the strength of your average newborn lamb. Stronger? No. Smarter? Unlikely – especially given he’s asked (by writing – he’s presently on a ventilator with 40% oxygen getting piped in) when he can leave the hospital “for a smoke. ‘Cuz it makes my lungs feel better”. Sigh.

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