The last thing a doctor wants to admit is his or her being heavily influenced by advertisements of the pharma business. After all, medical doctors' prescribing behaviour is supposed to be pretty neutral and scientific.
But the awkward reality is that when it comes to pharmaceutical marketing strategy or advertising, doctors' neutrality aren't difficult to undermine. Not everyone believes in this. In no corner of doctors' mind, too, is there even a vague notion that they can fall trap to marketing of gangbusters business.
This is perhaps the good reason I have to read Patrick Radden Keefe's book, Empire of Pain. You should, too. The New Yorker staff writer will tell you how doctors are being influenced by the marketing to keep prescribing Valium, and then a far more dangerous drug OxyContin.
The book brings my memory back to a short article I published twenty years ago. That's the year when I could afford more time in the library during my once-in-a-lifetime overseas training in Montreal. As it happened, I had a chance to dig out four major medical journals targeted for family practitioners (American Family Physicians, Canadian Family Physicians, Journal of Family Practice, and Postgraduate Medicine). Meticulously, I counted the number of pages and frequency of pharmaceutical advertisement to anti-bacterial drugs between calendar years 1984 and 2002.
To the casual observer, rising frequency of advertisement for an antibiotics class called fluoroquinolone, from zero to 37.5 percent, might have appeared to be nothing remarkable. But the interesting finding of mine is that there was strong correlation between such advertisement frequency and the contemporary national fluoroquinolone drug resistance rate to the bacteria, Streptococcus pneumoniae, that commonly invade our lungs and cause middle-ear infection. The two nearly identical curves go in tandem, one following another. The more advertisements in the pages of prestigious journals, the more use (or over-use) of fluoroquinolone antibiotics, and the more antibiotic resistance.
Truly a fact more than chance.
Photography is a minefield of oddball and obsession, and I'm no exception.
These will mean nothing to you, I know - they would mean nothing to most people unless they happen to have a family member who is obsessed with taking photos - but my family will tell you the story.
Similar story is told in the book Running Home, authored by Katie Arnold whose father wore his camera everywhere he went, like an extra appendage. Slung around his neck, the Nikon was part of his dress code, just like mine.
A wave of embarrassment washed over me, when I read how Katie made fun of her dad for taking too many pictures. According to Katie, he never took just one - never. "One more shot," he'd murmur as the shutter went click, click and the daughters held their positions, eyeballs rolling back in their heads with exasperation, faint smirks twitching at the mouth corners. "Okay, just one more, one more."
The scenario and conversations aren't verbatim, but they're pretty darn close to what I did (and do).
I have been busy with infotainment video shooting this weekend. Many colleagues of mine helped. As parents, we found the best subjects of our conversation being our children.
We don't know when we first discovered that childhood goes in the blink of an eye. So much so that we all start to miss the opportunity, one way or another, when our kids grow out of something now and then.
I know exactly how it feels when Fredrik Backman writes about a father driving to his daughter's new college dorm room in the novel The Winners. The father went to help her drill holes in the wall for bookshelves. He was the one who was there, and he was so pleased with himself when his daugher whispered: "Thanks Dad, what would I do without you?" The holes ended up a bit wonky, though.
The next time the father visited, the shelves were straight. The daughter had bought a drill and fixed them herself. She never told her father because she didn't want to hurt his feelings, and he coughed to clear the lump in his throat and pretended he hadn't noticed.
Well, maybe I will be like that father with a lump in the throat one day.
I'd spent almost one whole day at a public housing estate shopping mall as volunteer to talk to the public. By the time I returned home at evening, I felt guilty for leaving my daughter alone.
In no way did I think we should talk about her homework. We all need unstressed periods of downtime every day. "I love you too much to fight with you about your homework." This is the title of a chapter in the book The Self-Driven Child: The Science and Sense of Giving Your Kids More Control Over Their Lives.
I have learned about the importance of downtime. Think of downtime as anything relaxing or rejuvenating, nothing purposeful, all of which are powerful for maintaining a healthy brain. We sat and shared caramel pudding, followed by a board game Battleshhp.
As simple as that.
Much as thought-leaders had described, travelling opens our mind. We slow down when we travel. We open up when we slow down.
That’s what I did after I’d taken a week off. Of course, a family vacation during Chinese New Year means opportunity to relax with far fewer unread work-related emails.
The first thing I notice is the number of blog posts written. Next, I watch myself shaking things off like Taylor Swift’s hit song “Shake it Off.”
I leaned back, gazed out the window, and watched the snowflakes. That’s the time when everything - except my hair - has turned white.
