Gp Doctor Quotes

I repaired a tear she sustained a couple of weeks ago during a spontaneous vaginal delivery. Dear Adam, Just wanted to say thank you. You did a fantastic job – my GP checked my stitches and said you could hardly tell I’d had a baby, let alone a third-degree tear! I’m extremely grateful to you. Thank you again. Everything about it is so thoughtful, the kind of thing that makes the whole job totally worthwhile. She’d even made it herself – beautiful textured white card adorned with her baby’s footprint in gold paint on the front. Then again, I guess she didn’t have much choice – there can’t be much call in Paperchase for ‘Thanks for mending my anus!’ cards.

Still, Emma and I somehow struck up the type of friendship that lasts through primary school and high-school cliques, and our fathers are both doctors, although my dad is a GP and Dr Frank is a gynecologist (or, as Emma's two older brothers prefer to call him, a 'box mechanic'). In many ways, I think Emma and I balance each other out - at least, I hope we do. She forces me to be less cynical and bitter. And I'm on hand to remind her that, as long as she has two eyebrows rather than one, she has nothing to worry about. I text her back: 'Call me when you can plait them.' - Cat

Thanks to the kindly advice of an elderly doctor friend, I suddenly realized that it is natural to assume that the creative intelligence that made all my organs, fashioned my body, and started my heart can heal its own handiwork. The ancient proverb says, “The doctor dresses the wound and God heals it.”   WONDERS

It used to be the family all looking out for one another but it's not like that anymore. It used to be you at least knew your doctor, but these days you're lucky to get an appointment, let alone see the same GP twice. It used to be your neighbors kept an eye on you but people like to keep themselves to themselves now. It used to be that you belonged to a community, but really, is there such a thing anymore? Now it's more like every man for himself.

It is necessary to make this point in answer to the `iatrogenic' theory that the unveiling of repressed memories in MPD sufferers, paranoids and schizophrenics can be created in analysis; a fabrication of the doctor—patient relationship. According to Dr Ross, this theory, a sort of psychiatric ping-pong 'has never been stated in print in a complete and clearly argued way'. My case endorses Dr Ross's assertions. My memories were coming back to me in fragments and flashbacks long before I began therapy. Indications of that abuse, ritual or otherwise, can be found in my medical records and in notebooks and poems dating back before Adele Armstrong and Jo Lewin entered my life. There have been a number of cases in recent years where the police have charged groups of people with subjecting children to so-called satanic or ritual abuse in paedophile rings. Few cases result in a conviction. But that is not proof that the abuse didn't take place, and the police must have been very certain of the evidence to have brought the cases to court in the first place. The abuse happens. I know it happens. Girls in psychiatric units don't always talk to the shrinks, but they need to talk and they talk to each other. As a child I had been taken to see Dr Bradshaw on countless occasions; it was in his surgery that Billy had first discovered Lego. As I was growing up, I also saw Dr Robinson, the marathon runner. Now that I was living back at home, he was again my GP. When Mother bravely told him I was undergoing treatment for MPD/DID as a result of childhood sexual abuse, he buried his head in hands and wept. (Alice refers to her constant infections as a child, which were never recognised as caused by sexual abuse)

The difference between Dad and me is this: he trusts that prayers will heal him, while I understand that God sent the doctor.

I wouldn't like to find out my GP was messing about with black magic. It would be like discovering that your bank manager was also a stand-up comic.

Many of the old taboos were about sex; many of the new ones are about the mother-child relationship, unfortunately for children and their mothers. For example, we use the word “vice” in a completely different way from our great-grandparents. Almost everything that was then considered a vice (drinking, smoking or gambling) is now treated as an illness (alcoholism, tobacco addiction, compulsive gambling), so that the sinner has become an innocent victim. Masturbation (the “solitary vice” that so concerned doctors and educators) is now thought of as normal. Homosexuality is simply a lifestyle. To speak of vice in any of these cases would be considered a serious insult. Today, only a few inoffensive habits of children are considered “vices”, and in English they are spoken of as nothing more than “bad” habits: “He has the ‘bad’ habit of biting his fingernails.” “He has got into the ‘bad’ habit of crying.” “If you pick him up, he will develop a ‘bad’ habit.” “He has got into the ‘bad’ habit of breastfeeding and won’t eat baby food.” If you still have any doubts about what our society’s real taboos are, imagine going to see your GP and describing one of the following scenarios: 1. “I have a little boy of three and I want to have an AIDS test because I had sex with several strangers this summer.” 2. “I have a little boy of three and I smoke twenty cigarettes a day.” 3. “I have a little boy of three; I breastfeed him and he sleeps in our bed.” Which of these three scenarios do you think would elicit a reproach from your GP? In

After beginning his medical career as a junior doctor in Sri Lanka, Dr Sittambalam Rajasundaram GP worked as an SHO in the National Health Service in the UK before moving into General Practice. He served the NHS for four decades as both primary and secondary care physician. A caring, patient attitude has made Dr Sittambalam Rajasundaram GP popular amongst patients.

combing through Manoa Falls.” “I want to help.” Only the irritating tug of Jacob’s IV kept him from bounding out of bed. “There’s nothing you can do, Jacob. The doctor says you’ll be in here for another week and then…” “And then what?

she prayed as follows: The healing presence is right where my mother is. Her bodily condition is but a reflection of her thought-life, like shadows cast on the screen. I know that in order to change the images on the screen I must change what they reflect. I now project in my own mind the image of wholeness, harmony, and perfect health for my mother. The infinite healing presence that created my mother’s body and all her organs is now saturating every atom of her being, and a river of peace flows through every cell of her body. The doctors are divinely guided and directed, and whoever touches my mother is guided to do the right thing. I know that disease has no ultimate reality; if it had, no one could be healed. I now align myself with the infinite principle of love and life, and I know and decree that harmony, health, and peace are now being expressed in my mother’s body.