After I read Dr. Dawson’s post today “More on homelessness and violence as a public health problem,” it got me thinking about what the situation on homelessness of people with mental illness and substance use disorder is here in Iowa.
First, I looked at the 2024 Iowa Homelessness Needs Assessment, which is a thorough report you can download if you need it. It’s a 23-page pdf document which doesn’t mention the intersection with the homeless mentally ill until almost the very last page. It gets mentioned in the section subtitled “Improve Coordination With Adjacent Systems”:
To end or substantially reduce homelessness, a coordinated response is needed that aligns the resources in adjacent systems with CoC resources and housing. Homelessness is often caused by and/or exacerbated by the inability of public support systems to address the complex needs of people in extreme poverty experiencing housing crises. These systems include education, hospitals, behavioral health, criminal justice, and child welfare. Engagement and service delivery approaches need to be responsive to the particular needs of people at imminent risk or experiencing literal homelessness. More responsive adjacent systems will provide specialized engagement, enrollment supports, discharge planning, and coordination with CoCs in each region.
Typically, this kind of document makes me thirsty for a more granular, human connected account of what kind of person actually becomes homeless. Are they always dangerous? The answer is “no.”
Actually, there’s this human-interest Iowa’s News Now story published December 27, 2024, “A Closer Look: U.S. and Iowa homelessness reach record highs” (accessed July 28, 2025). It’s about a real person who became homeless despite being a University of Iowa graduate.
People become homeless for many reasons. I just want to mention resources that are available in Iowa that could be helpful. The website Homeless or At-Risk of Homelessness presents the idea that “Sometimes, life takes an unexpected turn. People face hardships and turn toward their communities for support.”
There are some people who struggle with mental illness and substance abuse and as a consequence of those challenges become homeless, as the Iowa Homelessness Needs Assessment above points out.
One resource I think is important is The University of Iowa’s Integrated Multidisciplinary Program of Assertive Community Treatment or PACT program. It’s an evidence-based treatment model that’s been around for decades in many locations in the U.S.
There’s also an Iowa Health and Human Services program called PATH (Projects for Assistance in Transition from Homelessness) to help homeless adults with mental illness, substance abuse and trauma.
This was just a quick and admittedly superficial summary of what Iowans have been doing about the homelessness crisis. It really takes a village.
I just noticed something about one of my YouTube videos that I made sort of as a combination gag and educational piece about pseudobulbar affect. It needed a couple of updates—one of which is minor and which I should have noticed 10 years ago when I made it.
It’s a pseudo-rap performance (badly done, I have to agree although it was fun to make), but it’s one of my most watched productions; it has 18,000 views.
One minor update is about the word “Dex” in the so-called lyrics of this raggedy rap song (see the description by clicking on the Watch on YouTube banner in the lower left-hand corner). It stands for dextromethorphan, one of the ingredients along with quinidine in Nuedexta, the medication for pseudobulbar affect. Dextromethorphan has been known to cause dissociation when it’s abused (for example, in cough syrup).
The most important update is about Dr. Robert G. Robinson, who I joked about in the piece. He passed away December 25, 2024. He was the chair of The University of Iowa Dept. of Psychiatry from 1999-2011. He was a great teacher, mentor, and researcher. He published hundreds of research papers and books on neuropsychiatric diseases like post-stroke depression and pseudobulbar affect. He lectured around the world and was widely regarded as a brilliant leader in his field.
Early in my career in the department, I left twice to try my hand in private practice psychiatry. Both times Dr. Robinson welcomed me back—warmly. He was my co-editor of our book, Psychosomatic Medicine: An Introduction to Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry, published in 2010.
All who worked with Dr. Robinson will never forget him.
I listened to the Rounding@Iowa podcast “End-of-Life Doulas” twice because I’m at that difficult age when I think about my personal death. I don’t think about it at great length, mind you, but when I think about it, I feel afraid. Early mornings tend to be the time I wonder how much time now until…?
There was the usual podcast format, Dr. Gerry Clancy interviews Mary Kay Kusner, who is certified death doula to get the overview and details about what death doulas are all about.
Iowa's cancer rates are among the highest in the country, and they are rising. In this episode of Rounding@Iowa, Dr. Gerry Clancy and guest experts Dr. Mary Charlton and Dr. Mark Burkard discuss the data, risk factors, and prevention strategies clinicians can use to make a difference. CME Credit Available: https://uiowa.cloud-cme.com/course/courseoverview?P=0&EID=81274 Host: Gerard Clancy, MD Senior Associate Dean for External Affairs Professor of Psychiatry and Emergency Medicine University of Iowa Carver College of Medicine Guests: Mark E. Burkard, MD, PhD Professor of Internal Medicine-Hematology, Oncology, and Blood and Marrow Transplantation University of Iowa Carver College of Medicine Director, University of Iowa Health Care Holden Comprehensive Cancer Center Mary Charlton, PhD Professor of Epidemiology Director, Iowa Cancer Registry Iowa College of Public Health Financial Disclosures: Dr. Clancy, Dr. Burkard, Dr. Charlton, and Rounding@IOWA planning committee members have disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Nurse: The University of Iowa Roy J. and Lucille A. Carver College of Medicine designates this activity for a maximum of 0.75 ANCC contact hour. Pharmacist and Pharmacy Tech: The University of Iowa Roy J. and Lucille A. Carver College of Medicine designates this knowledge-based activity for a maximum of 0.75 ACPE contact hours. Credit will be uploaded to the NABP CPE Monitor within 60 days after the activity completion. Pharmacists must provide their NABP ID and DOB (MMDD) to receive credit. UAN: JA0000310-0000-25-090-H99 Physician: The University of Iowa Roy J. and Lucille A. Carver College of Medicine designates this enduring material for a maximum of 0.75 AMA PRA Category 1 CreditTM. Physicians should claim only the credit commensurate with the extent of their participation in the activity. Other Health Care Providers: A certificate of completion will be available after successful completion of the course. (It is the responsibility of licensees to determine if this continuing education activity meets the requirements of their professional licensure board.) References/Resources: Iowa Cancer Plan
I listened to the podcast in the late afternoon and discussed it only briefly with Sena. I felt out of sorts for a few hours afterward. I was in a funk until later in the evening when my thoughts almost abruptly switched to something funny. It was about a topic I’m thinking of for another blog post which has a humorous angle to it. I even chuckled a little out loud. I didn’t force that line of thought—it just happened.
But I know why it happened.
I didn’t know what a doula was until I listened to the podcast. Because I’m a writer by inclination, I looked for the original definition, which is a female servant who helps women with birthing. That didn’t enlighten me much, obviously; I can’t remember the last time I was pregnant (see what I did there?). An end of life-or-death doula helps people come to terms with impending death, death when it happens, and with whatever comes up after death has happened.
The title of this post comes from the Mary Kay Kusner’s short anecdote near the end of the podcast. Early in her career as a chaplain, she met with a 4-year-old child in the oncology unit who had a terminal illness, evidently death was coming and asked her, “How will I get to heaven?” They talked about it and the next thing the child said was, “So it’s like another dimension?” which Kusner evidently validated in some way. It’s a really cute story.
Anyway, there was a thread running through the podcast which pointed to what is apparently an ongoing psychological disconnect medical professionals have about death because we’re so focused on cure. It’s disappointing, but there you go. Death doulas are around to fill the role of talking calmly and matter-of-factly about it with patients and families.
There are some nuts and bolts about the profession, some of which I get and others which I scratch my head about. There are a couple of doula organizations in Iowa City which Kusner mentions: Community Death Doulas and Death Collective Eastern Iowa. Mary Kay Kusner is certified as a death doula via online training through INELDA.
Interestingly some people do not believe that this is a profession which can be certified, at least without some practical clinical experience. There’s a web site in which the question-and-answer section is longer than the article itself about this. The author recommends specific courses.
Death doulas are not covered by health insurance, so the practitioners arrange for payment, often through a sliding scale hourly fee. Part of the reason for the training of and demand for death doulas is that hospice nurses have heavy caseloads.
This reminds me of the hospice where my younger brother died after his battle with cancer. He was in his forties. Before he entered hospice, I had to be one of his doctors on the medical psychiatry inpatient unit after he accidentally overdosed on his pain medication.
When my brother was in hospice, I sat at his bedside. Most of the time, he was delirious. I watched and listened as one of the hospice workers as he asked him whether he was entering the dying process. He used those words. My brother was just as delirious as he was when he had to be admitted to the medical-psychiatry unit. I don’t know how much he heard.
I sat at his bedside, determined to hold some kind of death watch vigil. This was interrupted, ironically, by some friends of his who visited. They stood opposite the bed so that I had to look at them instead—and to listen as they told me stories about how close they’d been to him and how much they loved him.
By the time they were finished and I turned back to my brother, he was gone. It took me a little while to figure out I had not missed anything I really needed.
So, I think death doulas could be vital in building a bridge between those who are dying and those who need to connect with them. That’s the main thing.
I read Dr. Ron Pies, MD’s essay today, “What Long COVID Can Teach Psychiatry—and Its Critics.” As usual, he made thought- provoking points about the disease concept in psychiatry. What I also found interesting was the connection he made with Long Covid, a debilitating illness. He cited someone else I know who was involved with a group assigned to create a working definition for it—Dr. E. Wes Ely, an intensive care unit physician at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee.
I remember when I first encountered Dr. Ely, way back in 2011 when I was a consulting psychiatrist in the University of Iowa Health Care general hospital. I was blogging back then and mentioned a book he and Valerie Page and written, Delirium in Critical Care. Back then I sometimes read parts of it to trainees because I thought they were amusing:
“…there is a clearly expressed opinion about the role of psychiatrists. It’s in a section titled “Psychiatrists and delirium” in Chapter 9 and begins with the sentence, “Should we, or should we not, call the psychiatrist?” The authors ask the question “Can we replace them with a screening tool, and then use haloperidol freely?” The context for the following remarks is that Chapter 9 is about drug treatment of the symptoms and behaviors commonly associated with delirium.”
I would point out that the authors say, while acknowledging that the opinions of psychiatrists and intensivists might differ, “…we would advocate that a psychiatrist should be consulted for patients already under the care of a psychiatrist or on antipsychotic medications”. Usually, in most medical centers in the U.S.A. a general hospital consultation-liaison psychiatrist sees the delirious inpatient rather than the patient’s outpatient psychiatrist. And many delirious patients don’t have a previous formal history of psychiatric illness and so would not have been seeing an outpatient psychiatrist in the first place.” (Page, V. and E.W. Ely, Delirium in Critical Care: Core Critical Care. Core Critical Care, ed. A. Vuylsteke 2011, New York: Cambridge University Press).
I’m pretty sure I got an email from Wes shortly after I posted that, with his suggestion that I write more about the delirium research he was doing. He sent me several references. I met him in person at a meeting of the American Delirium Society later on and attended an internal medicine grand rounds he presented at UIHC in 2019, “A New Frontier in Critical Care Medicine: Saving the Injured Brain.” He’s also written a great book, “Every Deep-Drawn Breath.”
Anyway, Dr. Ely and others were tasked by the Administration for Strategic Preparedness and Response and the Office of the Assistant Secretary of Health in the Department of Health and Human Services tasked the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine (NASEM) with developing an improved definition for long Covid.
At first, I was puzzled by the creation of criteria that essentially defined Long Covid as a disease state which didn’t even necessitate a positive test for Covid in the history of patients who developed Long Covid. I then read the full essay by Family Medicine physician, Dr. Kirsti Malterud, MD, PhD, “Diagnosis—A Tool for Rational Action? A Critical View from Family Medicine.”
I was hung up on the dichotomy between physical illness and somatization and thought the Long Covid definition posed a dilemma because it purposely omits any need for an “objective” test to verify previous Covid infection, making the Long Covid diagnosis based completely on clinical grounds. The section on persistent oppositions (dichotomies) was helpful, especially the 2nd point on the dichotomy of the question of whether an illness is physical or psychological (p.28).
The point on how to transcend the dichotomy was well made. I guess it’s easy to forget how the body and mind are related when a consultation-liaison psychiatrist is called to evaluate somebody for “somatization.” Often that was the default question before I ever got to see the patient.
Still, the person suffering from Long Covid often doesn’t seem to have a consistently effective treatment and may stay unwell or even disabled for months or years. Social Security criteria for disability look well-established.
I can imagine that many persons with Long Covid might object to have their care transferred to psychiatric services alone. I can see why there are Long Covid clinics in several states. It’s difficult to tell how many and which ones have psychiatrists on staff. The University of Iowa calls its service the Post Covid Clinic and can refer to mental health and neuropsychology services. On the other hand, a recent study of how many Long Covid clinics are available and what they do for people showed it was difficult to ascertain what services they actually offered, concluding:
“We find that services offered at long COVID clinics at top hospitals in the US often include meeting with a team member and referrals to a wide range of specialists. The diversity in long COVID services offered parallels the diversity in long COVID symptoms, suggesting a need for better consensus in developing and delivering treatment.” (Haslam A, Prasad V. Long COVID clinics and services offered by top US hospitals: an empirical analysis of clinical options as of May 2023. BMC Health Serv Res. 2024 May 30;24(1):684. doi: 10.1186/s12913-024-11071-3. PMID: 38816726; PMCID: PMC11138016.)
I’m interested in seeing how and whether the new Long Covid definition will be widely adopted.
We’ve lived in the Iowa City area for over 37 years and never heard of the Brain Rock until today. I don’t know how we ever missed it. It’s a work of art called Ridge and Furrow created by artist Peter Randall-Page, a world-famous artist from the United Kingdom.
It’s been called the Brain Rock for obvious reasons because the stone has what you might call gyri and sulci all over its surface. It has recently been relocated from the T. Anne Cleary walkway outside the Pomerantz Career Center to the Medical Education and Research Facility (MERF).
As Randall-Page says, if you trace the line from one side of the sculpture you can follow it to its end on the—far side of the rock, I guess you’d call it.
The other interesting thing about the Brain Rock is that a couple of intoxicated college students urinated on it back in November of 2021. No mention of whether they were trying to trace the furrow. Maybe they’d heard of the urinating sculpture and fountain called Piss in Prague.
As the month of May Mental Health Awareness draws to a close, I reflect a little on the Make It OK calendar items that are salient for me: 3 things I’ve done that I’m most proud of and 3 reasons I’m hopeful for the future. I’ll keep it short.
One thing I’m most proud of is being the first one in my family to go to college. The biggest accomplishment was going to medical school at The University of Iowa in 1988. That was also the year Michael Jackson’s pop hit “Man in the Mirror” was released. That’s sort of how I felt about what I was doing that year—making a big change.
The more I reflect on this the more I realize the other thing I’m most proud of was getting a degree from Iowa State University in 1985. That paved the way for the path to becoming a doctor.
This process seems to work backwards because probably the first thing I’m proudest of is making a change even earlier in my life to land a job with a Mason City, Iowa consulting engineer firm, Wallace Holland, Kastler Schmitz & Co. That came before college and they’re all like stepping stones on the path of achievement. I think I started at the minimum wage back then, which was about $2.00/hr. I was an emancipated minor and couldn’t afford an apartment so I lived at the YMCA. It was a cramped sleeping room with no kitchen, a communal bathroom/shower, and a snack vending machine from which I got a worm infested candy bar. There were strict rules about what you could keep in your room—which somehow didn’t prevent one guy from building a motorcycle in his. Now this is getting too long.
In order to move on expeditiously with the mental health awareness calendar items, I’m going to cheat on the 3 reasons I’m hopeful for the future because they involve what is most important to a teacher. That’s what I was. I was so proud of the many medical students and residents I had the honor to teach. There were a lot more than 3 reasons to be hopeful for the future. I used to take group pictures of them and me at the end of each rotation through the consultation psychiatry service. We got a kick out of that because the only way I could do it was by using my old iPad that had a fun remote way to trigger the snapshot. I leaned the iPad up against something on a table. We all gathered as a group at the other end of the room. We posed, I raised my hand and counted to three, then closed my hand into a fist. That was our cue to smile. The shutter clicked.
Every time we did that, I was proud. Wherever they are, I hope they know how proud I am of them.
The meeting of the FDA VRBPAC on the composition of Covid-19 vaccines will be tomorrow, May 22, 2025 at 8:30 am-4:30 pm EST. Some materials have recently become available on the FDA website.
The briefing document indicates that there will be a discussion of the most recent Covid-19 variants and whether the current vaccine needs to be modified as the viral antigenic strain has mutated.
The World Health Organization has formed a new technical advisory group: “Technical Advisory Group on COVID19 Vaccine Composition (TAG-CO-VAC) to review and assess the public health implications of emerging SARS-CoV-2 variants of concern (VOCs) on the performance of COVID-19 vaccines and to provide recommendations to WHO on proposed modifications to COVID-19 vaccine antigen composition. Recently, the TAG-CO-VAC advised that a monovalent JN.1 or KP.2 vaccines remain as appropriate vaccine antigen, while a monovalent LP.8.1 is a suitable alternative vaccine antigen (Ref: https://www.who.int/news/item/15-05-2025-statement-on-the-antigen-composition-of-covid-19-vaccines) to be included in the composition of COVID-19 vaccines (2025-2026 Formula).”
The VRBPAC meeting topics:
“On May 22, 2025, VRBPAC will meet in open session to discuss and make recommendations on the selection of the 2025-2026 Formula for COVID-19 vaccines for use in the U.S. The committee will be asked to discuss available evidence on recent and currently circulating SARS-CoV-2 variants, including data from virus surveillance and genomic analyses, antigenic characterization analyses, vaccine effectiveness and clinical immunogenicity studies of current U.S.- authorized/approved COVID-19 vaccines and nonclinical immunogenicity studies of candidate vaccines expressing or containing updated Spike antigens.”
The attendees include:
The TAG-CO-VAC presenter:
Kanta Subbarao, M.B.B.S., M.P.H. Professor Department of Microbiology and Immunology Faculty of Medicine Laval University (Laval University is in Quebec City, Quebec, Canada).
There’s an Iowa City member on the committee roster:
Stanley M. Perlman, M.D., Ph.D. Expertise: Pediatrics, Infectious Diseases Term: 08/23/2022 – 01/31/2026 Professor University of Iowa Distinguished Chair Department of Microbiology and Immunology Carver College of Medicine University of Iowa, Iowa City, IA 52242.
And the acting chair of the meeting will once again be: Arnold Monto, M.D. Expertise: Epidemiology Term: 02/01/2022 – 01/31/2026 Thomas Francis Jr. Collegiate Professor Emeritus of Public Health and Epidemiology School of Public Health University of Michigan Ann Arbor, MI 48109.
Vaccine manufacturer presentations will be from Moderna, Pfizer, Novavax, and Sanofi.
I learned a new slang word from Houston White, the guy who makes that specialty coffee in Minneapolis I blogged about yesterday: Brown Sugar Banana (I’m not a fan, but I admire him just the same). The word is “dope.” That used to be an insult or an illicit drug when I was growing up. Now it means “very good.”
I guess writing, at least for me, is dope.
The further I get in time away from the day I retired from practicing consultation psychiatry, the more I reflect about how I became a psychiatrist. I’m a first-generation doctor in my family, so what follows is one way to write about it.
What has helped me get through life was this writing habit along with a sense of humor. When I was little, I wrote short stories for my mother. I was the “number one son” in the words of my father, which meant only that I was the first born. My younger brother came second only in order of birth. He was the track star. I was the paperboy. Our parents separated early on. Sena and I have been married for 47 years.
I have been writing my whole life. I used a very old typewriter. I wrote poetry for a while, eons ago. Like many aspiring writers, I tried to sell them to publishers. The only publisher I remember ever responding sent me a hand-scrawled note on a small sheet of paper. He told this really short, nearly incoherent story about his son, who had apparently died shortly before. His son had a “tough road.” It wasn’t clear exactly how he died, but I remember wondering whether it was suicide. It was very sad.
In the 1970s, while I was a student at one of the Historically Black Colleges and Universities (Huston-Tillotson College, now a university) in Austin, Texas, I submitted a poem to the school’s annual contest and for entry into the college’s collection, called Habari Gabani (which means “what’s going on” in Swahili). It was rejected. Years later, I finally was able to track down a digital copy of Habari Gani.
Habari Gani from Huston-Tillotson College
Eventually, thank goodness for everyone’s sake, I gave up writing poetry. It was as bad as Vogon poetry. You’ll have to read Douglas Adam’s book “A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” for background on that. The Vogons were extraterrestrials who destroyed Earth in order to build an intergalactic bypass for a hyperspace expressway. Vogon poetry is frightfully bad; it’s the waterboarding torture of literature.
I wrote a short Halloween story for my hometown newspaper contest once. It got honorable mention, but I can’t recall what it was about, thank goodness.
I wrote a feature story in a journalism class taught by a nice old guy who made a long speech to the class about the unfortunate tendency for young writers to use flowery, polysyllabic words in their prose. He made it clear that journalists shouldn’t write like that. Although I didn’t consciously do the opposite to annoy him, I did it anyway. I even tossed the word “Brobdingnagian” in it, which might have referred to some high bluffs somewhere in Iowa. Despite being infested with Vogonisms, my teacher tolerated it, sparing my feelings. I must have passed the course although how I did it remains a mystery.
I wrote and co-edited a book with the chairman of the University of Iowa Healthcare Dept of Psychiatry, Dr. Robert G. Robinson, MD. It was “Psychosomatic Medicine: An Introduction to Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry”. There were several contributors. Many of them were my colleagues. It was published in 2010, and prior to that, I’d written an unpublished manual that I wrote for the residents.
Handbooks of CL PsychiatryHandbook of Psychosomatic Medicine
There wasn’t any humor in either book, because they were supposed to be evidence of scholarly productivity from a clinical track academic psychiatrist. But I used humor and non-scientific verbiage in my lectures, albeit sparingly. I remember one visiting scientist remarked after one of my Grand Rounds presentations, “You are so—poetic” and I detected a faint disparaging note in his tone…probably a reaction to a latent Vogonism. It’s not impossible to monkey-wrench those into a PowerPoint slide or two.
I used to write a former blog called The Practical Psychosomaticist, later changed to The Practical CL Psychiatrist when The Academy of Psychosomatic Medicine changed their name back to The Academy of Consult-Liaison Psychiatry back in 2017. I wrote The Practical CL Psychiatrist for a little over 7 years. I stopped, but then missed blogging so much I went back to it in 2019 after only 8 months. I guess I was in withdrawal from writing.
I have to admit that I’ve been mis-hearing some of the lyrics of one of my favorite songs, “Lean on Me” for the past fifty-odd years since Bill Withers wrote it. It stayed on the top of the charts for more than 3 weeks back in 1972. That was a special time in my life; and not an easy one.
Back then, you couldn’t just look up song lyrics or anything else for that matter on the world wide web. It didn’t exist yet. I’ve always been prone to mondegreens and I finally found out that I was hearing something different in the verse:
“Please swallow your pride
if I have things (faith?) you need to borrow
For no one can fill
those of your needs
That you won’t let show”
Just to let you know, I found lyrics in one YouTube that substituted the word “faith” for “things”. Think about that one. I don’t know how to settle it, so if anybody knows which word is right, please comment. Anyway, it’s a little embarrassing and revelatory that I heard “…if I have pain…” instead of “…if I have things (or faith)…” And I never really heard “…That you won’t let show.”
Yet I lived it.
Years later, after I’d finished college, medical school, residency in psychiatry, and had taught residents and medical students at the University of Iowa for a number of years, one of my colleagues, Scott, a brilliant psychologist and writer, stopped by my office one day. This was years ago.
His name is Scott and he suggested that it would be nice to get together sometime soon to catch up. I deferred and I remembered he replied while looking off down the hallway, “I’m 70.” I wonder if he meant he didn’t know how much more time he had left.
Scott and I had taken similar paths in the middle of our careers at Iowa. I wanted to try private practice and left for Madison, Wisconsin. Scott got the same idea and left for a position in Hershey, Pennsylvania. We both regretted it and soon after returned to Iowa. I swallowed my pride and came back because I loved teaching. I think he returned for the same reason. We were both grateful that the UIHC Psychiatry Dept. Chair, Bob Robinson, welcomed both us of back.
Jim’s teaching awardsBooks by Scott and Jim
I touched base with Scott a little while ago. We’re both retired. I was trying to find out how to contact Bob about messages I was getting from the publisher of our consult psychiatry handbook. Neither Scott or I could find out what was going on with Bob, who retired several years ago and moved back East. It turned out he had died. Sometimes we all have sorrow.
Scott is my friend, and I leaned on him a long time ago. I’m unsure if I let it show. I’m 70 and I’m grateful to him.
On that note, I’m finding out that I can’t walk all the way to the mall and back anymore. On the other hand, I can walk about half that distance. It’s about a mile and a half out to the Clear Creek Trail and back. There’s a lot of uphill and downhill stretches along the way. I can manage that.
And Sena bought me a couple of pairs of new shoes that I’m breaking in that will probably be easier on my feet and my calves. They’re Skecher slip-ons, not to be confused with the no hands slip-ins. I’m used to slip-ons. I tried one pair out today, in fact. Before I left, I took a few pictures of Sena’s new garden. As usual, she’s planting new flowers. The dogwood tree looks great. She’s even excited about the wild phlox. I can’t keep track of everything else out there. She makes the beauty out there.
And I lean on her for that.
dogwood treewild phloxeven more flowersflowersmore flowersnew shoes1new shoes2
Today is designated Earth Day although there is such a thing as Earth Month. Among the several trees Sena planted in our back yard trees are a few that we hope exemplify the Earth Day theme, which is Our Power, Our Planet.
One of them is a dogwood, which we’re hoping will bloom soon. Dogwoods represent joy and rebirth. There are a couple of crab apple trees, a red jewel and a perfect purple. Crab apple trees represent love and all are very special to Sena and me.
Love, joy, and rebirth. They can all be linked to power, which can be the power of will. The will to respect the planet also implies respecting each other. Practicing humility can be a kind of power.
The power to be still and listen to each other can make us more open to change.
On that note, because I can’t go for long without joking around, I should retell the story about me and the walking dead meditation. About 13 years ago, I had an even more serious case of not listening to others than I do now, if you can believe that. It eventually led to my choosing to take the Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) class ( see this current University of Iowa mindfulness essay). I wrote an essay for the Gold Foundation and it’s still available (I updated the links):
How I left the walking dead for the walking dead meditation (August 13, 2014)
About a year or so later, I bought Jon Kabat-Zinn’s book on Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR), Full Catastrophe Living, because I was dimly aware of the burden of stress weighing on me as a consulting psychiatrist in an academic medical center. I didn’t get much out of Kabat-Zinn’s book on my first read. But then in 2012 I started getting feedback from colleagues and trainees indicating they noticed I was edgy, even angry, and it was time for a change.
Until then, I’d barely noticed the problem. Like most physicians, I had driven on autopilot from medical school onward. I had called myself “passionate” and “direct.” I had argued there were plenty of problems with the “system” that would frustrate any doctor. I had thought to myself that something had to change, but I never thought it was me.
After reflecting on the feedback from my colleagues and students, I enrolled in our university’s 8 week group MBSRprogram. Our teacher debunked myths about mindfulness, one of which is that it involves tuning out stress by relaxing. In reality, mindfulness actually entails tuning in to what hurts as well as what soothes. I was glad to learn that mindfulness is not about passivity.
But I kept thinking of Kabat-Zinn’s book, in which he described a form of meditation called “crazy walking.” It involved class members all walking very quickly, sometimes with their eyes closed, even backwards, and crashing into each other like billiard balls. I hoped our instructor would not make me “crazy walk” because it sounded so—crazy. I dreaded crazy walking so intensely that I considered not attending the 6-hour retreat where it might occur.
We didn’t do crazy walking. Instead, we did what’s called the “walking meditation.” Imagine a very slow and deliberate gait, paying minute attention to each footfall—so much so that we were often off balance, close to crashing into each other like billiard balls.
I prefer to call this exercise the “walking dead meditation” because it bore a strong resemblance to the way zombies move. One member of the class mentioned it when we were finally permitted to speak (except for the last 20 minutes or so, the retreat had to be conducted in utter silence). It turned out we had all noticed the same thing!
Before MBSR, I was like the walking dead. I was on autopilot — going through the motions, resisting inevitable frustrations, avoiding unstoppable feelings, always lost in the story of injustices perpetrated by others and the health care system.
In practicing mindfulness, I began noticing when my brow and my gut were knotted, and why. Just paying attention helped me change from simply reacting to pressures to responding more skillfully, including the systems challenges which contribute to burnout. About halfway through the program, I noticed that the metaphor connecting flexibility in floor yoga to flexibility in solving real life problems worked.
Others noticed the change in me. My professional and personal relationships became less strained. My students learned from my un-mindfulness as well as my mindfulness, a contrast that would not have existed without MBSR.
As my instructor had forewarned, it was easy for me to say I didn’t have time to practice meditation. I had to make the time for it, and I value the practice so much that I’ll keep on making the time. I will probably never again do the walking dead meditation.
Today we gather to reward a sort of irony. We reward this quality of humanism by giving special recognition to those who might wonder why we make this special effort. Those we honor in this fashion are often abashed and puzzled. They often don’t appear to be making any special effort at being compassionate, respectful, honest, and empathic. And rewards in society are frequently reserved for those who appear to be intensely competitive, even driven.
There is an irony inherent in giving special recognition to those who are not seeking self-aggrandizement. For these, altruism is its own reward. This is often learned only after many years—but our honorees are young. They learned the reward of giving, of service, of sacrifice. The irony is that after one has given up the self in order to give back to others (family, patients, society), after all the ultimate reward—some duty for one to accept thanks in a tangible way remains.
One may ask, why do this? One answer might be that we water what we want to grow. We say to the honorees that we know that what we cherish and respect here today—was not natural for you. You are always giving up something to gain and regain this measure of equanimity, altruism, trust. You mourn the loss privately and no one can deny that to grieve is to suffer.
But what others see is how well you choose.
Leonard Tow awardGetting the pinOn my lapel; in my heart
I’m still practicing mindfulness-more or less. Nobody’s perfect. We hope the dogwood tree blooms soon.
Go Retire Psychiatrist 