Free Audiobook Downloads Dreams Come To Life
Ted Brathwaite
Wounds often begin in medical school when our gifted student doctors are placed in cut-throat competition, pitted against one another for survival, forced to submit to antiquated fear-driven teaching methods.
Thank you Dr. Wible for your courage and persistent efforts to expose this epidemic, the tragedy of losses from suicide AND the even greater risks and consequences of impaired health care providers who are struggling with depression, PTSD, hopelessness, lack of resources and stigma.
Dear Dr. Wible,
I just finished listening to your book, which made me very emotional. I want to thank you for shining your light brightly and helping so many.
I stumbled across information of your upcoming movie screening in NYC on Facebook. I am not in the medical field and neither is anyone in my immediate family. I am, however, aware of the strain and burden of being a medical professional. The sister of one of my best friends went through a suicidal period following a severe physical and mental burn-out after the death of one of her oncology patients, for which she was held responsible.
Your book has given me deeper empathy and compassion for those we so often expect to be infallible and strong.
I have a 4-grade daughter who dreams of becoming a doctor and I am, to he honest, horrified at the thought that her idealism and spirit may be broken while she pursues that dream.
I hope and pray that a change and healing can come to the system of healthcare education and the whole medical field.
Thank you again for all you are doing to make this change happen.
My best friend (20 plus years) who is a an MD sent this to me as after I told him he has PTSD, after a very malignant residency. He talked and I listened. We talked about how bullying is bullying. He is a compassionate and lovely human being who has lost part of himself after that residency, program. We talked about self-care.
I have been horrified to learn that self care is barely taught during medical school if at all. Not at all during residency. It needs to change. Helpers need to learn this. It is taught and reinforced for psychology and counseling students. Especially counseling students.
My (surgeon)ex-husband committed suicide a year ago. While I would never(totally)blame his profession,I am sure that the path healthcare has taken played at least some part of his decision. I am a nurse and we commiserated often about the frustrations with healthcare and how he in particularly, felt he was no longer in charge of how to care for patients and felt it was now being dictated to him. He often asked why he bothered to go through all of that intense preparation just to take orders from the government and other third party payers- the humanistic side of medicine is being whittled away one click at a time.
It hurts my heart to see so many physicians feeling the same way and it hurts my heart to see the path that healthcare is on-
Highly recommend you reach out for help. Many resources out there as all the resources on my website & me. Never give up your precious life. Seems you could use help for your personal trauma. Signing up to care for other when YOU are the one who could use care is a classic move that many make. I pursued medicine for similar reasons.
I am listening to your book with great interest. While I was in my psychiatry residency my partner, who was an internal medicine resident, committed suicide. This has motivated me to focus on the problems of doctors and primarily psychiatrists. In Canada there is much dissatisfaction and sense of futility with this profession. The focus seems to be primarily on making a diagnosis and creating a treatment plan on a single visit. Fewer are doing follow up visits and do not seem to feel skilled enough to practice psychotherapy. They underestimate the value and power of simply listening.
I applaude your work on a difficult subject.
I have recently become aware of a death of a succesfull and healthy physician, likely a suicide.
I went thru a hell of my own few years ago. By a stroke of luck, I came across
I read several books on the subject by Ryan Holiday, William Irvine and others. Over the last 5 years, I listen to them daily on a rotating schedule and still find them stimulating. Now, I see it as my mental armor and personal operating system. I am happier than I was before.
On behalf of the great state of Illinois, crossroads of a nation, land of Lincoln, let me express my deep gratitude for the privilege of addressing this convention. Tonight is a particular honor for me because, let's face it, my presence on this stage is pretty unlikely. My father was a foreign student, born and raised in a small village in Kenya. He grew up herding goats, went to school in a tin-roof shack. His father, my grandfather, was a cook, a domestic servant.
But my grandfather had larger dreams for his son. Through hard work and perseverance my father got a scholarship to study in a magical place: America, which stood as a beacon of freedom and opportunity to so many who had come before. While studying here, my father met my mother. She was born in a town on the other side of the world, in Kansas. Her father worked on oil rigs and farms through most of the Depression. The day after Pearl Harbor he signed up for duty, joined Patton's army and marched across Europe. Back home, my grandmother raised their baby and went to work on a bomber assembly line. After the war, they studied on the GI Bill, bought a house through FHA, and moved west in search of opportunity.
And they, too, had big dreams for their daughter, a common dream, born of two continents. My parents shared not only an improbable love; they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation. They would give me an African name, Barack, or "blessed," believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success. They imagined me going to the best schools in the land, even though they weren't rich, because in a generous America you don't have to be rich to achieve your potential. They are both passed away now. Yet, I know that, on this night, they look down on me with pride.
I stand here today, grateful for the diversity of my heritage, aware that my parents' dreams live on in my precious daughters. I stand here knowing that my story is part of the larger American story, that I owe a debt to all of those who came before me, and that, in no other country on earth, is my story even possible. Tonight, we gather to affirm the greatness of our nation, not because of the height of our skyscrapers, or the power of our military, or the size of our economy. Our pride is based on a very simple premise, summed up in a declaration made over two hundred years ago, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. That they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights. That among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
That is the true genius of America, a faith in the simple dreams of its people, the insistence on small miracles. That we can tuck in our children at night and know they are fed and clothed and safe from harm. That we can say what we think, write what we think, without hearing a sudden knock on the door. That we can have an idea and start our own business without paying a bribe or hiring somebody's son. That we can participate in the political process without fear of retribution, and that our votes will be counted - or at least, most of the time.
This year, in this election, we are called to reaffirm our values and commitments, to hold them against a hard reality and see how we are measuring up, to the legacy of our forbearers, and the promise of future generations. And fellow Americans - Democrats, Republicans, Independents - I say to you tonight: we have more work to do. More to do for the workers I met in Galesburg, Illinois, who are losing their union jobs at the Maytag plant that's moving to Mexico, and now are having to compete with their own children for jobs that pay seven bucks an hour. More to do for the father I met who was losing his job and choking back tears, wondering how he would pay $4,500 a month for the drugs his son needs without the health benefits he counted on. More to do for the young woman in East St. Louis, and thousands more like her, who has the grades, has the drive, has the will, but doesn't have the money to go to college.
Don't get me wrong. The people I meet in small towns and big cities, in diners and office parks, they don't expect government to solve all their problems. They know they have to work hard to get ahead and they want to. Go into the collar counties around Chicago, and people will tell you they don't want their tax money wasted by a welfare agency or the Pentagon. Go into any inner city neighborhood, and folks will tell you that government alone can't teach kids to learn. They know that parents have to parent, that children can't achieve unless we raise their expectations and turn off the television sets and eradicate the slander that says a black youth with a book is acting white. No, people don't expect government to solve all their problems. But they sense, deep in their bones, that with just a change in priorities, we can make sure that every child in America has a decent shot at life, and that the doors of opportunity remain open to all. They know we can do better. And they want that choice.
In this election, we offer that choice. Our party has chosen a man to lead us who embodies the best this country has to offer. That man is John Kerry. John Kerry understands the ideals of community, faith, and sacrifice, because they've defined his life. From his heroic service in Vietnam to his years as prosecutor and lieutenant governor, through two decades in the United States Senate, he has devoted himself to this country. Again and again, we've seen him make tough choices when easier ones were available. His values and his record affirm what is best in us.
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