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Posted by Alex Lickerman  Print  Email to a friend  Photo: Hamed Saber The other day I found myself thinking about what would happen if as an adult I encountered some of the children who terrorized me when I was in 7th grade (an experience I wrote about in an earlier post, Breaking Free Of The Past), wondering if I’d be able to forgive them for what they did to me. I’d like to think I would, but the truth is I’m not sure. As a result, I found myself thinking about the nature of forgiveness and of the power and value of being able to forgive. Continue reading…
Posted by Alex Lickerman Print Email to a friend  Photo: Nuno Duarte When my wife and I were first learning to ballroom dance (much fun!) I was amazed at how effortlessly our teacher was able to lead her when demonstrating a technique to me. She always seemed to know where he wanted her to go and how he wanted her to move, despite being as inexperienced as I. When I danced with her, she mostly found herself confused about what I wanted her to do. “That’s because you’re confused yourself,” our teacher explained to me. “Don’t move her with your arms. Move her with your torso, your dance frame. Don’t worry about where you want her to go. Worry about where you want to go yourself.” Continue reading…
Posted by Alex Lickerman Print Email to a friend  Photo: Richard0 For a doctor, every patient death is unpleasant. My first thought when it happens to me is always, “What mistakes did I make?” I go back through the sequence of events that led up to my patient’s death and ask myself if, given what I knew at each point along the way, I should have thought differently, acted differently or more quickly, or called for help sooner. Only once I finish this exercise and I’ve thoroughly assured myself my patient didn’t die, or even die sooner than he or should would have, because of me can I then move on to grieve for the person that was lost. Continue reading…
Posted by Alex Lickerman Print Email to a friend  Photo: darkpatator Years ago, a hulk of a man came to see me with a lump in his neck. He was as big as the lump was small, standing at least six and half feet tall with shoulders that seemed almost as broad. His lump, in contrast, was only 2 cm wide.
Wide enough, however, to warrant concern. It was firm rather than rubbery, fixed rather than mobile, and non-tender rather than painful—all hallmarks of something potentially malignant. He’d noticed it only one month prior to coming to see me, which made me think it had grown rapidly, another bad sign. He’d had no infection during that time that he could recall. Continue reading…
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