Hippocrates' Legacy Lost?

For a book titled Hippocrates' Shadow, I expected David Newman's work to be about the influence of Hippocrates on modern medicine. Instead I found just the opposite--HS is a scathing analysis of the multifaceted problems plaguing the current US health care system. Using a myriad of well-explained medical studies and personal anecdotes, Newman poignantly illustrates the key areas where the House of Medicine has drifted away from Hippocrates' ideals. Anyone who has ever spent time at a doctor's office or a hospital can personally attest to many of these issues. What makes Newman's telling so penetrating is that unlike personal experiences, the evidence he uses definitively proves how widespread and common these problems are.

While some of the issues discussed are familiar and easily identifiable (such as doctor's notoriously bad bedside manner), other are much harder to reconcile. Despite the clear evidence Newman gives about the futility of mammograms, in lieu of another screening technique, it is hard to completely abandon that ship. Regardless of how easily we accept each postulate he presents, the overall message conveyed is one that cannot be ignored: our health care system is broken and it is up to everyone (doctors and patients alike) to work together to bring about change.

Like many other Canadians, I could fill a book with my personal experiences with the problems Newman presents. However, unlike most who have faced these same roadblocks, I not only thought about real ways to fix the problems (no, throwing more money is never the right answer), I found out where these solutions were already being used. Despite what conservative medical doctors may like you to think, there is another group of health practitioners out there that still embody the ideals of the Hippocratic Oath, and who had already reconciled their practice with the problems Newman based his book around: naturopaths.

It only took one visit to a naturopath for me to see the impact their different approach makes. A standard first visit is one hour. I don't think I had ever seen a medical doctor for more than 10 minutes at a time. Already Newman's problem of not enough face time is solved. Naturopaths have two other core beliefs that separate their practice from MDs and demonstrate how a new perspective could breath new life into the House of Medicine: focus on prevention and treat the patient as a whole. While these ideal seem simple enough, as Newman's book demonstrates they are frequently neglected by the traditional medical establishment. While neither of these solutions will cost exorbitant amounts of money (unlike investing it in technology to make doctors more "effective"), they do have the potential to rectify the errors that have made our medical system so full of flaws.

In his conclusion, Newman speaks to the need to return to "Hipporates' belief in the bond, his respect for the mind/body, and his patient primacy." To reach this goal, Newman suggests that we look to history, and step back to a time when these three tenets still formed the core of medicine. However, the means he suggests are not required to reach these ends. What Newman fails to realize is that instead of looking to the past, we only needs to look right under our noses and follow the example of naturopathic medicine to heal the wounds currently crippling our public health system.

Wanted on the Voyage

As the title suggests, one of the themes that runs throughout Not Wanted on the Voyage is who was permitted to accompany Noah on the ark. Findley's portrayal of the Biblical fable highlights the absurdity of God's edict that arbitrarily specified who would be saved and who would not. One of the most emotional examples is Noah's attempt to burn Mottyl, the family cat, because God's two cats had already been selected. However, God permitted Noah to take several sheep on board. While the rules are specific in some areas, God also left loopholes, one of which allowed Lucifer to marry Noah's son and thus escape the flood with the family. Apart from the obvious holes this pokes in the belief in an all-powerful, all-knowing God (why didn't he just prevent Mottyl from boarding if the edict was so important?), it also leads one to ponder "what would I take on the ark?" What would I want, and not want, on the voyage?

Well, for starters, while I certainly feel that it was noble of Noah to attempt to preserve each animal species, modern science has taught us that multiple members of each species would be required in order to preserve genetic diversity. This makes it nearly impossible to save all of animal kind within the confines of one ark. Although I commend God for being concerned about animals for a change--as opposed to relishing in their sacrificial slaughter--I am also left wondering about the survival of our plants, minerals, and bacteria, not to mention the myriad of art and artifacts that represent our human history. In a magical world (like that of the Bible), I would turn the ark into a Marry Poppins-esque bag, and fit every plant, animal, mineral, single-celled organism, work of art and artifact that I could find. In reality, I would take a very thorough collection of photographs.

Now that our culture and the elements of our earth are accounted for (in one way or another), it is time to consider my personal affairs. Without question I would take my family, friends, pets, and anyone with a skill or ability that would make surviving an extended voyage less dreary. We've all seen the movies where some cataclysmic event is looming over earth and only a select number of people can be saved. Typically some bureaucrat chooses three types of people: those with money, those whose work is essential to human survival, and those with luck. If I was in charge, I would require everyone to audition and only select those who are creative and I could get along with--I have no desire to be trapped on an ark with an obnoxious know-it-all no matter how smart they are! As for bribes, what use would money be after the whole world is submerged under the waters of God's fury anyway?

Last but not least, my things. For better or worse, there are certain inanimate objects that I would have trouble parting with for the rest of my life, and that I would simply be bored to tears without. First, flood or no flood, I want a high speed internet connection. I don't care how the techies do it, but this is a must. I might no longer need to use the internet to communicate with others (since we are all in one ark), but lets face it, everyone has e-talked to someone in the same room at one point or another. Second, my comfort items--those things that due to sentimental value bring me joy, happiness, and peace. Third, entertainment: Xbox, boardgames, music, videos, you name it. I don't plan on watching the water for however long it takes God to get over his issues. But when the rains stop, and the sun comes out again, it will be time to sit on the deck in a comfy lounge chair and enjoy the final thing I want on my voyage--a really big stack of books.

An Atheist's Pilgrimage

Having grown up in a small, predominantly Catholic community, I was not exposed to any other creeds or religious beliefs early on in life. To this day I can still remember how shocked I was when I was first introduced to the Big Bang theory. Although I did not know it at the time, this moment put me on an ideological pilgrimage that over many years would help me define the governing principles of my adult life. I had at last been exposed to a sort of atheist Mecca--a place where logic and reason and critical thinking could reign supreme over the falsehood and lies that are religion.

As I grew up, and began to think more critically of the world around me, I slowly started to reject the preachings of the church. While it was at times difficult to give up the comfort that undoubtedly came from recognizing a higher power, I learned that ultimately truth is the greater reward. Just like the realization that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are not the ones bringing presents and chocolate, abandoning my belief in the stories of the Bible meant giving up a faith my parents had instilled in me since birth.

I liken my experience to that of Plato's Philosopher King who leaves the cave of ignorance and finally sees the light of truth. Although there was a certain comfort in the cave, and the journey to the surface was an ideological struggle, getting there has been well worth the effort. Not only have I been able to remove the veil of religious ignorance, but the process of self-enlightenment has also sharpened my analytical skills. Free from the ideological control of an overbearing religious dictatorship, my mind was both free to think for itself, and in possession of the tools to do so.

The world may never agree that religion is in essence an archaic mythology, that while purposeful in the past, has long overstayed its welcome. However, this bleak prospect should not discourage others from embarking on their own intellectual pilgrimage and coming to terms with the realities of the world they live in.

Paris pour Une

Everyone has a different style of travel. Some people are adventurous, some are active, some are passive, some prefer organized tours, and others like to just follow their feet. I personally have experienced Europe as part of an organized tour, on a cruise, by backpacking, and while staying with family. I have gone with a concrete day-to-day plan of what I wanted to do, and have gone to places and just "winged it." The common factor was that I was always with someone else. While I am one to recognize the allure to solo travel, due to a combination of factors, I had never managed to travel completely on my own. Then came one sunny Sunday in Paris.

I was traveling with my husband, whose interest in the galleries and historical sites I wanted to visit was about as high as my interest in going to a South Korean Star Craft tournament. However, being the compassionate guy that he is, he still accompanied me as I checked off place after place on my "to see" list. Despite his best intentions, his motivation to accompany me started to wane after a few days. Although the point of this trip was to spend time with each other away from our hectic lives, I proposed that we go to the Pompidou in the morning, and that I spend the afternoon visiting some sites on my own.

After soaking in all the feminist and modern art that he could stomach in one morning, Chris and his cousin said their adieus and left me to spend the rest of the day in absolute freedom. As luck--or exceptionally good planing--would have it, all of the major museums in the city were free today because it was the first Sunday of the month. This meant I could experience as much culture as my brain and feet could handle without having to deplete the limited resources in my wallet. After finishing off the rest of the Pompidou, I decided it was time to take a leisurely stroll in search of a nice square to enjoy some lunch, before wandering aimlessly through the centre of Paris.

This quickly became my favorite experience of the trip. The sun had come out, I had found a beautiful spot to enjoy my fresh sandwich, and the people watching was unparalleled. For the first time in Europe I felt completely relaxed. I knew where I was and felt comfortable in my surroundings (enough to be free of the tediousness of a map), yet everything was still foreign enough to be stimulating. I had the freedom of being on my own, able to set my own pace and direction, yet I felt that sense of community that one feels when sharing a communal space with fellow urbanites participating in a similar activity.

As I wondered through many of the main tourist attractions--Notre Dame, Pont Neuf, la Louvre--I was able to experience central Paris in a completely different way than my previous visit. Unencumbered by the opinions of a companion, and unrestricted by time and money, I was free to roam the streets and attractions at my leisure. I found myself no longer hurrying to experience the sites by rushing from highlight to highlight while missing all the life that was occurring in between. I was able to turn my attention--and my camera lens--toward not only the less visited corners, but the Parisians who are so often ignored by the average tourist. The result was a priceless experience that allowed me to let my feet follow my heart.


Not only did I end up with some of my favorite pictures from the trip, but as a result I had the chance to connect with myself in a new way. I discovered that the best way to experience a place is to blend in with your surroundings and make your own way. None of this would have been possible if someone had been with me that day to influence my choices. Personally, I learned that I cherish my freedom and independence even more than I had previously realized. With regards to travel, that afternoon has forever changed the approach I will take in visiting a foreign country--for the better.