Science in general is leaking awe; which to the field is comparable to a leaking nuclear reactor. Medicine, a facet of science, is losing its respect--a facet of awe.

The human body is not an easy thing to deal with when something goes wrong, but truth to be told, having both parents with experience in the medical field has actually taught me to have less respect for doctors and hospitals than I might otherwise have.

Not that the people, the actual people who work their asses off like my mother just trying to do some good, deserve anything but thanks. But just like The State has impersonalized and depreciated the value of the people it claims to serve, the medical field--and oh, gods, the medical INDUSTRY--have to a large extent lost sight of what's important about being a caregiver.

Doctors who treat people like lumps of meat or interesting machinery, to be pulled apart, inspected, prodded and humiliated, make me ill, and I've run into more of them than not. My husband's view is that, whether or not these doctors know it, what they're accomplishing is nothing more than a molester would accomplish. They are not improving life, acting in its interests--hell, holding it sacred--when they strip down your child or your wife and poke around. And on the few occassions when this has to be done, the simple fact of routine keeps the doctors ridiculously sheltered from the unholy implications of what they're doing, preventing them from at last being sympathetic to the agony--mental and physical--that their patients are in. It doesn't count if you're a doctor. Bullshit.

The medical industry has a slightly different problem, for instead of glorifying cold-steel science, they of course glorify money money money. My mother, an Emergency-room nurse with over thirty years experience, was recently forced to take a class, on her own time, in "Customer Satisfaction". If she did not take the class she lost her job, so she took it, not being made of money and all. But she was horrified at the things they were teaching at the class, and in the middle of it, she even stood up and cussed out the "instructor". She told him something like this: "I've been a nurse since Vietnam, even before. I know what it means to be a nurse. I do not 'serve customers'. I do not deal with 'clients'. I take care of my patients. Someone comes to me ill, in physical and emotional distress, and I act with both my knowledge and my human instinct to try and relieve their distress." She was so offended at the "We're taking their money, so let's provide a good service" attitude that she walked out of the class.

My mother and I are big fans of Patch Adams.

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