I’m getting my game face on this morning. The clinic is maxed out at 100%. Every clinician-hour is scheduled for the entire week, and I have four new ones to evaluate today, I hear.
So maybe it’s just natural my coffee-browsing minutes this morning drifted more that direction than toward the other projects and interests than would win my attention if my day didn’t belong to the health care system.
[So to the tune of “Let’s Get Physical” (Olivia Newton-John. Remember?) Ann and I this work-morning are singing “Let’s get clinical, clinical…”]
And I ran across some web sources I’ve bookmarked to share at work. I’m willing to bet that at least one of the four new patients I meet today will be diagnosed with FMS, fibromyalgia syndrome. They won’t even be able to pronounce it correctly, and if they go to the web for information, there’s a lot of junk out there.
Their suffering is real, the reasons are still illusive. But it is no longer dismissed as merely female hysteria.