Whatever the case, I wouldn't go cutting out a healthy organ if it were my choice. I’d just hit up my doctor more often and hope for the best. Statistics aside, I don't think you can look at health through such a mechanical lens. And yeah, there are two cases of breast cancer in my family—both passed away. One had surgery and lived for about another 20 years, while the other ended up passing from a ruptured stomach ulcer.
Reading all these headlines about Angelina Jolie getting a preventative mastectomy because her stats put her at high risk... I’m curious what actual doctors think about this.
Is medicine really that cut and dry? You find a gene, you rip out the organ, and voilà—problem solved?
Assuming, of course, that you actually don't need that organ. How are we supposed to prevent liver, kidney, brain, lung, or stomach cancer?
I’m no doctor, but removing an entire organ just based on pure prevention feels extreme. It seems wild to rely solely on statistics or math when dealing with the actual causes of disease. Even when people have a tumor that can be surgically removed, it often just pops back up somewhere else anyway.
I don't know what Red Bull has to do with anything, but I wouldn't touch that stuff for other reasons. Maybe one can every month if you're desperate, but drinking that garbage every day...
vividsailor7. You claim you "didn't understand anything" after I described the symptoms (look, I'm no doctor, but I figured out the phlegm was coming from both the lungs and the sinuses, obviously)—and then you reply using abbreviations that even a high schooler wouldn't grasp? I’ve dealt with enough respiratory infections to know my way around an ENT, though I actually had to Google what ABT meant.
EDIT - I Googled ABT and found absolutely nothing related to medicine or respiratory issues.
Maria Howard2—this whole "I'm going to a harder school so I don't have time" thing is total nonsense and you know it. I really hope your parents take you to a doctor, because you aren't doing yourself any favors. Plus, if this is just a virus, you're basically spreading germs all over your classmates and the subway. When you're sick (which you clearly are), you go to the doctor, get a medical note, stay home, and follow a treatment plan. Primary care doctors—believe it or not!—have morning and afternoon appointments; you just have to check their schedule.
Trailers are always better than the movies; they’re basically just commercials. You just grab the best scenes, edit them tight, throw on some killer music, and boom—you've got the whole movie in miniature. The only catch is if the actual flick sucks, you still have to sit through all the filler. 😍
Then why not suggest a different topic, like breathwork therapy? If you check out these links, you'll see it's actually a thing. Unlike drinking hydrochloric acid, this is rooted in yoga, which is an ancient and totally legit practice.
As for my writing style, I don't see any reason to take myself—or anything else—that seriously.
I started a thread about the health benefits of breath holding in the ALTERNATIVE MEDICINE PDF. There are tons of articles online about this, and most of it ties back to yoga. Here’s the gist:
I don't see any reason why this topic would be deleted.
It's in the alternative medicine PDF. People discuss fasting, crystals, colloidal silver, and sun gazing there without any issues. I don't get why this thread is being treated differently, so please just restore it.
For the third time this year, my skin is breaking out in itchy red patches (and some faint little spots) across my stomach, ribs, back, hips, and arms—though not my hands.
Two of those three times happened during extreme cold snaps when I was spending more time outdoors (can't recall the third one). This most recent bout hit right when the temperature dropped, plus I spent way too much time soaking in a hot tub... so I’m wondering if this is some kind of heat-to-cold reaction? 🤷
I take an antihistamine and it clears up in about ten days, then I just slather on some aloe vera gel to kill the itch. I’ve always had allergies—dust, feathers, grass, weeds—but it usually hits my breathing (asthma) rather than my skin.
The redness moves around constantly; one day it's on my forearms, lower stomach, and back, then the next it's on my shoulders and upper arms... or it shifts from the right side of my back to the left. The itching comes in waves, peaking and then settling down.
Areas exposed to the cold seem fine. My skin is generally sensitive; for instance, my forehead gets red after washing my hair (it fades on its own within thirty minutes), and after a shower, I get red streaks on my back where I scrubbed a bit too hard, which also clear up quickly.
Finished all three books, watched all three Swedish films—even rewatched the first one twice (once last year and again when it was on TV)—and just caught Fincher's version a couple weeks ago.
I honestly expected Fincher's take to be a bust, but I actually liked it. Then I rewatched the Swedish version and decided it’s still better.
The Swedish films handle the plot much smoother; they stick closer to the source material and actually bother to explore the side plots and relationships (like the newsroom dynamics or the guardian situation). Fincher cut out so much stuff that I don't even get how his version ended up being longer. And why on earth would you change the ending? Basically, if you haven't read the books, you'll have a much easier time following the story in the Swedish films. And yeah, you can tell which one had the bigger budget.
Yeah, exactly. Only, mine looks more like the top photo (masculine lips) rather than the bottom one (feminine). In the woman's photo, it looks like it's sitting right on the surface, but for me, it feels deeper, like it's under the skin.
If lasers or creams could actually make things worse—and considering we're talking about our mouths here—I wouldn't touch anything. But honestly, I'm pretty miserable right now. I was really hoping there was at least some way to tone it down.
Whew, glad to know I’m not the only one. : relief : Looks like we'll be seeing each other at the dermatologist, LOL. Personally, I feel like they could just zap this stuff away with a laser.
Health isn't really my thing, and I haven't seen anything about this on beauty blogs, so I figured I'd just ask my coworkers at work.
A long time ago, I noticed that if I pull my lip tight, these tiny white dots show through the thin skin. Over time, they've multiplied, and now they're right in the middle of my upper lip and in both corners of my bottom lip. Since there are so many now, you can see them even without stretching the skin; the lips just look whitish instead of red in those spots. It looks like the color is missing, and when I stretch it out and look closely, I see these little white specks sitting under the skin. I have no idea if I'm the only one; I don't exactly go around inspecting people's mouths, and I've never heard anyone else complain about this. It originally started on my upper lip, right where I used to get cold sores (though I haven't had one in years).
What makes it worse is that I don't even wear lipstick, so it stands out even more. I'm not sure if I should see an esthetician or a dermatologist, or if there's even a way to fix it. I found an article about a great private dermatologist who also does cosmetology, so I'm booking an appointment for next month, but in the meantime, I'm wondering if anyone else has ever heard of this?
ruggedscout91 said:But, dear Kate Collins67, I find myself getting too involved. If someone tells a child's parents that there are metastases and explains exactly where and how, what should come next? The parents ought to be told what their options are:
- how to reduce the tumor mass (palliative care), - who to contact and how to manage pain control, - how to access therapy and whom to consult, - what to expect and what supplies they need to have ready at home. A few comforting words wouldn't hurt to soothe a parent's heart and shift their focus toward practical matters.
Once again, I am warning you: there is absolutely no decent psychological care available for any demographic, for any reason whatsoever.
- It's non-existent for pregnant women, - it's missing during miscarriages, - it's absent during D&Cs, - it's nowhere to be found during major gynecological surgeries or various cancers, - it's gone during iatrogenic postmenopause, - it's missing when a patient is given the worst possible news, - and it's absent when parents are told about a child's terminal illness.
So where are all the psychologists and psychiatrists? Is it only acceptable to talk to addicts and murderers? Or perhaps when a woman is sent to a mental asylum?
Sadly, there just aren't enough of them. A lot of psychiatrists focus strictly on biology and medication; actual talk therapy isn't really their thing. Then you have psychiatrist-psychotherapists who actually do the work, but they're so rare they can barely meet the demand. For instance, there's currently a clinic providing psychological support for women with breast cancer, and the entire load falls on one psychiatrist who handles them alongside her regular patients.
As for everything else... like eating disorders, we're barely even scratching the surface. I honestly don't know where all the psychologists are hiding—but keep in mind, someone with just a bachelor's degree isn't actually qualified to provide counseling or real psychological help without specialized training.
ruggedscout91 said:These so-called "surprise visits" are nothing more than excuses to hit up local bars, wander through retail stores, drop by a friend's house, or track down a lover. Is that really all there is to it? The wealthy and the well-connected get priority treatment. Meanwhile, everyone else? If they can't afford a private specialist, they're stuck waiting in an ER or simply dying. Is that the system we've built?
So, funny how I'm still breathing then? Both me and my parents had a GP show up at our door every single time we called.
Luckily, most doctors are actual professionals with hearts. Unlike some people whose logic is about as sound as your average troll in an online parlor (clearly seen in this thread).
And yeah, I agree with the post above—not once have any doctors asked me or my family for money, directly or otherwise, and we’ve certainly never offered it. We got the treatment we needed, plain and simple.
Kate Collins67 said:But how exactly am I supposed to "inform" them? Should I use dense medical jargon? Or switch to layman's terms—which, let’s face it, usually strips the actual medical meaning right out of the conversation? Honestly, there are times when I just don't know how to explain something to a patient because even after I've tried five different ways to say it, they still look at me like I'm speaking Greek. When you try to simplify complex medical issues just so a layperson can grasp them, you almost always end up distorting the reality of the disease. Then, what happens? Later, the patient repeats that simplified version to another doctor, which gets translated back into technical terms, and suddenly we're dealing with a totally skewed picture. This is exactly why we rely on medical records—they exist so we can interpret things based on hard facts, not filtered conversations. Is it really our fault if patients aren't educated enough to understand the complexities of their own health? I mean, what can you do? It’s like when some imaginary friend from NASA tries to walk me through quantum physics; I just sit there nodding blankly, knowing full well I haven't understood a single word, no matter how much they try to "dumb it down."
First off, you're being patronizing. Second, you have classes in med school specifically about doctor-patient communication, but clearly, dodging those lessons is a whole different story.
I'll tell you this: absolutely anything can be phrased so an average person understands it without needing to throw around technical jargon. You should be able to explain the core issue to anyone—a kid, a parent, a mechanic, or a singer.
Any field's terminology can be adapted so it makes sense to everyone. Not only is it possible, but it's actually a benchmark for someone's general intelligence and communication skills—something anyone with a college degree really ought to possess.
The fact that even universities dedicated to thinking, communicating, and writing—like journalism or linguistics schools—don't prioritize this, let alone medical or engineering programs, is just a failure of our entire education system. In places like Britain and similar countries, anyone studying quantum physics or creative writing has to write constant essays. By the end, they actually know how to express themselves and write properly, instead of becoming total idiots.
That's why we end up with journalists, doctors, and engineers who can't even master basic grammar. It's hard to have a serious conversation about communication standards when, as a society, we're mostly illiterate to begin with.
Kate Collins67 said:Look, let’s get one thing straight—whether we're talking about my patients or yours, you're already making that distinction between "my people" and "your people," even though everyone should have equal rights to care. If everyone is being treated according to professional medical standards, there shouldn't be any "mine" or "yours." It shouldn't matter at what stage of treatment I encounter a person; I should just be picking up exactly where the previous doctor left off. But honestly? To actually pull that off, you'd need a massive amount of specialized knowledge, much higher quality medical schools, and a level of top-down organization that our current system just isn't providing.
So, you’re out here preaching that "we treat the patient, not just the disease"? That sounds great on a bumper sticker, really, but let me ask you something—are you actually treating healthy people now too? Because if we're following your logic, what exactly am I supposed to be doing? Am I expected to step in and fix my patients' social struggles? Should I be playing social worker or calling up agencies to handle their living situations? Or maybe I should be acting as an unlicensed therapist and calling in a psychologist to deal with their mental health issues? No. Absolutely not. My job is to treat the actual illness within the patient. For everything else—the social stuff, the psychological stuff, all those other layers—there are plenty of other trained professionals who do that job way better than I ever could, and frankly, I have zero intention of stepping out of my lane and getting tangled up in it.
Look, there are tons of patients out there who have been given incredibly clear, thorough explanations about exactly what’s wrong with them and precisely what steps they need to take to actually get better. But here's the kicker—most of them don't follow a single word of it. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? If we're being honest and looking at the big picture, why are we even wasting our breath? Why spend all this energy on these exhaustive, deep-dive explanations when they just fall on deaf ears? It feels like a total waste of time to go through the whole "educational" process if people aren't going to actually do the work. It really just depends on the situation—who I’m even talking to, honestly. Some people just aren't worth the breath, you know? So, I guess it comes down to who I’ll actually bother trying to explain things to and, more importantly, who I won't.
1. A "healthy patient" is an oxymoron; if they're a patient, they're sick. 2. Sure, you treat the patient—the patient is the subject. The goal is to get a sick person better or improve their condition. It should be obvious to any doctor that you aren't just looking at a failing organ in isolation; you're looking at the person attached to it. The human being matters, and they actually care about being healthy—they aren't just a collection of parts. 3. Your whole tangent about social services is totally irrelevant. You're comparing apples to oranges here.
I honestly find it pretty sad to see a young, educated professional write something like this, reducing the medical profession to a kind of narrow-minded tunnel vision that lacks any sense of humanity.
I mean, if you actually know how much time you have left while you’re still feeling okay, you might as well go out and do everything you’ve ever wanted—travel, party, just live life to the fullest, and who knows what happens next? There are even stories about people beating the heaviest diagnoses simply because they stopped obsessing over being "cured" at any cost. Like, they just let go and went out to enjoy themselves—I once read about someone who supposedly beat cancer just by binge-watching comedies all day long. Bottom line: if you end up getting better, awesome. If not, at least you had a blast. If death is inevitable anyway, I’d much rather spend my final days enjoying life—assuming you can even stay sane enough to do that—than stuck in a hospital bed with tubes shoved up your nose.
But since you didn't specify exactly what you're dealing with, take this as a random thought rather than actual advice.