Most of them love it: A surgeon's use of humor

Here's Nurse G.P.'s letter to a nursing advice columnist:
"Dr. Sam," a good-natured general surgeon in our same-day surgery clinic, enjoys chatting with patients before procedures. To put them at ease, he regales them with humorous stories, and most of them love it. Last week, Dr. Sam told several of his favorite stories to a patient who was clearly anxious. After he left, she confided to me that she was still dreading surgery. "I had some questions that I never got to ask because he was too busy being a comedian," she said.

Advice to patients about to undergo surgery: Bring a written list of your questions to hand to the doctor or nurse, in case it's hard to get a word in edgewise.

Read a story about physicians' attempts to build rapport with patients.

Thanks to Susan Salladay, the nursing advice columnist, for the source article in the July 2008 issue of Nursing2008.

Doing handstands on my walker: Elective amputation

Bonnie Denis was only three years old when a rare virus, transverse myelitis, attacked her central nervous system. It left her temporarily paralyzed below the waist. But she bounced back quickly, and by age five, "I was doing handstands on my walker." But as she grew, the muscles in her feet atrophied, and the bones grew crooked.

Now, when she walks, it feels "like there are a bunch of knives stabbing me," she says.

Even so, she has lived a very active life, dabbling in acrobatics. She keeps an active and quirky sense of humor. Now at 30, she has made a difficult and rare choice, after many operations and years in a wheelchair. The decision is as personal and unique as her custom-painted, raspberry-pink crutches.

She decided to find a doctor to amputate her excruciating right foot.

The decision follows a series of operations. While she was in high school, surgeons invented a series of procedures to reshape her feet. They broke bones and reset them. They implanted metal pins and took them out again. They augmented her own bones with bones from cadavers. Once horrified, she came to think it’s cool: "I'm part zombie," she says.

Bonnie knows the trade-offs; she knows surgery, and wheelchairs, and what it feels like to walk. She is making her own choice – maybe not the one you or I or her doctors would make for themselves – but none of us has walked a mile in her shoes. It's a well-considered decision, and it's hers.

Advice: Explore your choices thoroughly, and make your own choice.

Thanks to S.I. Rosenbaum for the source story in the June 16 issue of the Boston Globe.

No more “diagnose and adios” for “Laverne and Shirley” star: MS patient education

David Lander acted as Andrew “Squiggy” Squiggman in the 1970s sitcom “Laverene and Shirley.” He’s still laughing, even 23 years after being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. In those days, there was nothing doctors could do about MS, so doctors’ treatment was “diagnose and adios.” Now, many treatments are available.

“My doctor had painted a fairly bleak picture of the disease, even going so far as to say I probably wouldn’t walk again,” he said. Now he walks slower—and is a scout for the Seattle Mariners baseball team—and for the handicap accessibility of ballparks.

Speaking to MS patients is one of his greatest joys. He adds, “There’s a great strength that we derive from each other. Support groups offer MS patients an invaluable resource.”

“Wherever the chips may fall, if I fall with them, I will do so gracefully, laughing.”

Advice to friends and families of patients with MS: Take ‘em out to the ballgame—but check first for the ballpark’s accessibility for handicapped people.

Read another story about a celebrity spokesperson , or read Linda Childers’ article, “Fall Down Laughing,” in Neurology Now’s Jan./Feb. issue.