Category Archives: nourish

Medical aids and the future?


In my opinion which some may argue is not humble. I argue it is.

Medical aids restrict care for patients as well as shoot themselves in the foot when it comes to downstream costs.

Particularly in an environment like south africa where we have this tsunami wave of a diabetes epidemic. Approaching things holistically (as CDE which originated in Joburg and is now all over RSA) is the only way to manage the finances we have. Yet the push back from some medical aids is interesting to use a word so as not to offend.

I am merely a GP – general practitioner. I have made it my mission to stay up to date (as well as the most qualified I can be) regarding diabetes at large. I am passionate about it. I am even more passionate about the best care for my patients. This largely could translate to the best money spent for medical aids but alas it does not turn out that way 9 times out of 10.

There are medical aids who are open minded and practice preventative care like Discovery and medications and appliances are provided with insight and good application.

I wish this were across the board. Alas not in our beautiful country.

Patients vote with where they pay their money.  The next few years are critical as to both the direction of medical aids and whether the money will be spent effectively saving downstream costs or whether the whole thing just implodes. Every day another massive wave of patients are added to this problem. It is soon to hit that critical mass where devastation occurs.

We have to become more preventative, we have to manage what we have to the best of our abilities with what we have.  That is best done with more brains. Team is key. Technology is key and unfortunately not everyone is on this boat.

Think before you drink before you drive, think before you eat that cake and you don’t survive.

 

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Death Oh who art thou?


To lose a loved one is one of the hardest things for me. I am so unsettled by it, especially if it is someone my age or younger. Because I am young. And Death is so definite.

At someone’s memorial or funeral one expects to gain closure and to get some kind of “feeling” that the world is upright again. But alas it is not always so.

My “friendus” Mark Reynolds was a larger than life person who was always going to defeat death until he didn’t. I met Mark on the “kleuterskool” play ground in a small town called Tzaneen where english speakers were in the minority. There were 3 of us : Mark, Vivienne and myself.

We played on the “baantjie” and said ” get away, get away” a lot. We forged a friendship right there and then that lasted an eternity (I hope). Death confuses me and many of the things I hope for (faith) elude my desire for confirmation thereof.

Throughout junior and high school we played, we learned, we experimented. Mark was the first to offer me a cigarette -menthol nogal. I tried it, hated it and it convinced me lifelong that I would not smoke. We hiked in the gorgeous agatha forest, slid down the rocks. We laughed so much mostly our sides split.

We rode horses in Sabie – galloping into eternity together.

More recently Mark attended my sister and my wedding. I will never forget Mark giving my bemused husband-to-be a flower as was his custom.

Mark’s laugh was one of those that triggered others to laugh and not stop. His smile captivated. His heart was one the most beautiful I have ever seen. He sacrificed so much for others – his important others.

In love I believe he was let down so badly it still hurts me. He painted out of that and gave up on romantic love – which is so so desperately sad but I believe he was trying to self preserve. For me this is so tragic as he was a gorgeous soul and the love between 2 people – true romantic love as it were is something that can take one to heights that nothing else can- and it did – only it dropped him too (as it does many).

He had so much to give – in life and love.

Taken way way too soon, I just don’t understand and I guess never will.

What I know is that we must live here now, and make each minute count. We must cherish each other in the moment. Be present in the moment and live each as if the last.

 

To Mark – my “friendus” ignite heaven as I know you will with your soul. Devastate them with the joy that radiates out of it. The deeper the sorrow carves into your being the more joy it can contain. I love you and I always will.

The wounded healer


For Jung, “a good half of every treatment that probes at all deeply consists in the doctor’s examining himself… it is his own hurt that gives a measure of his power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the wounded physician.

I have just read a great article about depression and doctors and how poorly it is managed amongst doctors. But the concept of a wounded healer has always fascinated me. As has healing. As have healers.

I am intrigued that is takes wounding to heal. And yet I guess in a karma kind of way it makes sense.

Indeed intriguing that there is power to heal. Frightening on some level.

History also confounds me and implores me to explore it. Ancient texts and characters of the past beckon to me to learn from them. Long before modern medicine existed healing existed. Long before the dawn of todays many western ideas ancient cultures treated dis ease successfully. We are here after all and did not die out as a species.

I respect deeply the ancients. I respect suffering and wounding. In a sense it is a teacher.

Grappling with self, wrestling with self is possibly also a part of this?

Wounded. In a process of healing.

The blooming of a womb


I am privileged to watch womb’s bloom. From a tiny teeny little bud of a being to filling up the whole womb with no space to move. From a dot of a heart beat with unfolded heart to a racing raging beating beast of a heart from which the life force flows.

It is a miracle before my eyes and plays out in different ways each time. The fusion of an egg and a sperm that happens so easily sometimes and with so much pain and difficulty at other times.

Life unfolds literally. It starts as and egg and a sperm which merge and then divide and divide and divide until the trophoblast bursts forth a little heart (unfolded) which then takes up the fold. The embryo tucked into itself almost like a little sea horse which then spirals in on itself to further divide and subdivide until by 12 weeks all the organs are formed. Poetry in motion.  A privilege to witness. An 8mm miracle at 7 weeks that grows steadily and miraculously until the birth thereof.

Life, the life force, the presence or absence of a new life. It is a strange beautiful mystery of a miracle and it gets me every time.

Surgery as a patient


The hardest 2 things I have ever had to do is deliver 2 babies. Yes I did do it naturally and perhaps at the age of 37 and 39 I should have listened to the wise advice of so many colleagues and had 2 planned caesars. I wanted the very best for the two angels that I had waited so many years for and I believed going through the birth canal was that. What I did not realise is what it would take out of and from me.

Delivering a child naturally comes with a lot of waiting (patience has never been my forte). It then involves an “older” body “co-operating” with the birth process. If that had all happened “naturally” I guess it may have been different. My body needed help and in the second birth it needed an ocean of a medication called oxytocin (syntocinon). This very large dose into my system helped my 39 year old uterus contract in order to deliver one 3.5 kg baby.

I will keep you in a bit of suspense, like a bit of a thriller novel.

I have just (last friday) had surgery – 4 years after my precious second child’s birth. It was an operation to effectively remove my uterus. This organ that has caused a fair amount of poor quality of life. The surgeon was extremely happy with his operation (they usually are) and presented me with a photo of the wretched organ and great news that it had gone swimmingly.

Wind back 4 years. I had just delivered a baby at around 3 am in the morning. The team were tired. God knows they had had me in chunks. No nursing staff are ever delighted to “nurse” a lady doctor – goes against many grains. I was lying in a lot of blood and had already started to bleed. I was in a fair amount of pain considering I had already delivered a child. The pain escalated, the nausea escalated, the bleeding escalated. I called for help so to speak and was told to shut up and sleep (in my own blood) they had really had enough of me for one night. I tried again. I phoned a friend – no one was up at 4 am. I tried my husband – his phone was off – he was trying to sleep after a hell of a night. I phoned the neighbour and asked him to wake my husband and come to the hospital.

AT one point I left my body and watched mayhem from above.

I woke up – well “arrived” back in my body about 2 days later having been taken to theatre, resuscitated, transfused etc. They never did figure out what was causing my pain 4 years ago. I started on a long journey of recovery mentally, physically and emotionally.

The surgeon showed me (this last saturday)

what happened – my uterus had ruptured and well lets just say the human body is an amazing thing.

I do certainly wish that it had been discovered 4 years ago for a few reasons. The very first and most important being my marriage which suffered greatly for the rupture. The second being the suffering that could so easily have been avoided. I can actually deal with a fair amount (though I do believe my pain threshold is useless), but my wish would be for another women to not have to go through the journey I have travelled. The third being the faith I have lost in my own “kind”. Never did I think it possible to be treated the way I was that night or on 3 occasions where all I really wanted was an apology from the midwife and all staff closed rank and called me something close to a lunatic and just bloody well get over this and move on.

Well I can now. Move on.

I can also say that a hysterectomy is a relative walk in the park. Almost a non-event. Yes I had pain post-op and yes I required the strong stuff. But 2 days later I was not on anything for pain and today I feel like I could run a marathon (I won’t for all those urging me to rest).

Life is an interesting journey and some of the suffering actually helps create focus and for that I am grateful. The most awesome part is just beginning – a journey with Dave and my two girls.

Diabetes “connect” – meet the team


Last chance to book for meet the team 😉

WE will be available on the 15 March 2017 for any one interested to meet the team. We will serve a “healthy” treat and explain how we approach diabetes and chronic disease management from a team point of view.

Please do RSVP : 033 3431826

The event will kick off at 530 sharp and end at 630 and children are welcome – we will have some games in the garden for them.

Innate Diabetes Hilton is situated at 26 hilton avenue and we aim to provide a team for all your diabetes needs : GP with a diploma in diabetes and pump centre, dietician with a passion for diabetes, podiatrist, diabetes educator as well as the bonus of 2 beauticians who do a whole range of wonderful treatments. We also have and educational psychologist as well as a psychologist on site and a life coach who specialises in addictions and relationship difficulties.

Come and meet the team 🙂

The power of the double x ;)


Do not under-estimate the power of a woman. Once activated she can be radio-active. A ball of fire. A genuine force of nature. WE are not half x and half y – we are double x or double X!

Made from Adam’s rib, created to be a help-meet. Created to bare both boys and girls. Created to create.

Women across the world have a kindred spirit – gentle, kind, strong ,powerful. We tend to “attack” problems or hiccups in a very different way to our XY counterparts. Empathy is like breathing for us. Life and it’s ebb and flow very much part of each day’s struggle to nurture our children and loved ones. A privilege we cherish yet sometimes hard to keep on keeping on.

Take Ingrid Jonker – a women whose heart literally bled for south africa. She struggled so intricately  with herself and her father’s rejection that it forced her to walk into the sea, yet the poetry she wrote was pure gold that flowed out of that tortured and tormented soul -deep so deep, squeezed and percolated through her fragile life. She leaves us with a legacy of touching tales that shake your core and leave you in awe.

Thuli Madonsela – a tribute to justice and dogged yet gentle pursuit of the truth without being rude, disdaining or plain. A strong tall tree yet softly spoken authority. A real rare gem leader. Astounding ability to hold her own self back and gently speak to a situation. She radiates, emanates peace and truth, it seeps through her pores and is heard.

There are so many examples of women through the ages. Steel women, whose hearts are so fragile and gentle they are broken by the weight of a feather, yet stand despite the brokenness. Beat despite the lack of a song to accompany the beat. Sometimes beat to the sole beat of a single drum. But pick up that pace they do.

XX a gift to us. We got double the staying power, double the gentle breeze.