Longer Looks: A Doctor Seeks To Muster Courage To Treat Ebola; Scars From A Son’s Attack

The New York Times: Treating Ebola Without Fear
Now we are faced with Ebola, and once again the impulse to shun the disease and the impulse to help its victims arise together. I have the urge to sign up, to head to Liberia or Sierra Leone; the call for doctors seems personally addressed to me. When I tell my mother, who is in her 90s, that I am thinking of volunteering in West Africa, she clutches my hand and says: “Oh, no, no, no. Don’t go!” I’m secretly pleased. Perhaps I want her to forbid me to go. In the evenings when I visit my parents, we watch the news as the Ebola story sputters, catches fire, sputters . . . and then it lands on our shores, in Dallas! And a doctor who served, stirred by the same impulse brewing in me, returns to New York infected with the virus. “See?” the devil on my left shoulder says. “You don’t have to go anywhere. It’ll come to you.” I am disturbed. Sleepless. Bothered. Have I lost my altruistic impulses, or is it that naïve innocence has been supplanted by wise caution? (Abraham Verghese, 11/4)

The Atlantic: What Quarantine Feels Like
Although quarantine is, right now, nearly synonymous with Ebola, those of us who have been quarantined for other health reasons also know its psychological toll. Sure, it’s frightening what your own body is putting you through—you’re likely in pain, you’re likely lonely and thinking all sorts of what-ifs. But it’s also frightening to know that you could harm, unwittingly, each nurse who comes to help. It’s frightening that although you want to see your family, doing so would mean putting them in danger. (Michele Lent Hirsch, 11/3)

The Washington Post: A Father’s Scars: For Va.’s Creigh Deeds, Tragedy Brings Unending Questions
He lies in bed a few minutes more, trying to conjure specific images. Gus dancing. Gus playing the banjo. Gus with the puppies. Any images of Gus other than the final ones he has of his 24-year-old, mentally ill son attacking him and then walking away to kill himself, images that intrude on his days and nights along with the questions that he will begin asking himself soon, but not yet. (Stephanie McCrummen, 11/1)

Cafe: How I Got Rejected From A Job At The Container Store
Last year, during a ten-month period, the following happened in this exact order: I got separated from my husband of two decades, who, having lost his job to the recession, moved across the country to start a business, leaving me as sole provider and parent to our two children still at home; I abandoned the novel I was working on and found a job with benefits as an Executive Editor at a health and wellness website; ... I was diagnosed with stage 0 breast cancer; ... I survived the cancer but was fired from my job. ... I tried applying for Obamacare ... but because three months—the quarter during which I thought I was covered—had officially elapsed since my coverage was cancelled, I was not in the 60-day window required to apply. I could file for coverage during the next open enrollment, I was told. Meaning November 15th. Problem was, I had an appointment for an MRI at Sloan Kettering in August to make sure my mass hadn’t returned. Without insurance, the MRI alone would run me over $6,000.00. I pushed off the MRI until October and prayed for a break on the job front and good health. (Deborah Copaken, 11/3)

The Center For Investigative Reporting: Medical Firm Profited On Pain With Knockoff Spine Surgery Hardware
Ortho Sol makes precision screws for the most delicate of construction projects: spinal fusion. Doctors around the world drive them into the vertebrae of patients with devastating back injuries. The company had repossessed some of its screws after one U.S. distributor – Spinal Solutions LLC – stopped paying its bills. But now, nestled with the returns, the brighter yellow luster of a few screws caught Walker’s eye. Testing confirmed his fears. Some were not made of his firm’s medical-grade titanium. Their uneven threads showed potential for backing out or breaking, he said. He feared the laser-etched markings intended to make them look authentic could be toxic to patients. (Christina Jewett and Will Evans, 11/3)

The Atlantic: Learning To Live With The Voices In Your Head
I traveled to the medieval city of Tilburg in the Netherlands to experience what [Dr. Marius] Romme calls the “hearing-voices approach.” Romme’s protégé of 32 years, Dr. Dirk Corstens, was giving a workshop on the practice to seven voice-hearers. I sat down with Corstens and patients Michel and Angie (who declined to provide their surnames), to learn more about living with voices. (Roc Morin, 11/5)