With one in every 10 women on anti-depressants, and 30 million Americans swallowing the pills with their Cheerios the question that begs to be asked is why are Americans so depressed? We live in the richest nation in the world. We have to do very little to get what we want in terms of food, entertainment and relationships. Most of us can live to be 100 if we don’t smoke. We can all read. We won’t be wiped out by a plague from above.
If life is so great in the 21st century, why is everyone so sad? Most of my answers will be women-centered because that is my gender bias. But guys, keep reading. You’re popping pills too.
1. The 24-hour news cycle
Everyone likes a good horror film. We like the suspense, the adrenaline of fear. However that fear is unhealthy when it is brought in to your homes, and sometimes in your cars, on a daily and sometimes hourly basis. Fox News especially, and CNN and MSNBC constantly instills fear in to the hearts of its viewers every day, several hours a day. Watch at a given moment and you will think that (insert scary cable network digitized theme music) that a Scott Peterson like fundamentalist Muslim is going to attack your pregnant friend with cancer after she eats a hamburger with Mad Cow disease.
Even the FoxNews web site makes me anxious. Here are some of the headlines:
Dangerous Obsession: Researchers brand phenomenon of tanning addiction as ‘tanorexia’
Cabbies in Crisis: Soaring gasoline prices are hurting big city taxi drivers
Now tanning is bad for you and the rise in gas prices is terrible, but tanorexia, crisis?
I’m scared are you?
2. Commuting to Work
My commute last year was 55 minutes in the morning and 115 minutes in the evening. I risked my life every day, no joke - I live in Chicago, to get to work. Take the train. I can’t. I would if I could. God bless NPR. But during the pledge drive the road rage ensues and my blood pressure rises.
"Solo commuting really grinds people down," said Darrel Drobnich, Director of Government and Transportation Affairs for the National Sleep Foundation. "People are working longer hours, experiencing greater stress in the workplace and at home, and sleeping less. When they hit the road they’re encountering more and more traffic. All of these factors plus too much time alone behind the wheel can spell trouble."
Most solo drivers say they can deal with their commutes. But Drobnich and other authorities from the transportation and psychology fields say people who drive alone usually don’t realize the effect their commutes have on them, a fact which makes them more susceptible to a wide range of hazards. (http://www.commutersregister.com/ct/articles/0001/cover.htm)
3. porn
Porn is great. It’s terrific. But like, it’s also a problem. A big problem. As young boys view porn at a younger and younger age their view of women is skewed based upon the non average woman and the fake sexual experience. Their ability to be intimate with a real person is stunted. What? Her stomach isn’t perfectly flat? What? Her legs aren’t 9 feet long? What she’s not screaming in Ecstasy every time I touch her? Men are disappointed and women are frustrated because they can never live up to the other sex’s expectation.
This can make us a very lonely society.
4. nothing’s fun anymore
alcohol= liver failure, smoking = lung cancer, sex = std, walking alone = rape, meat = heart attack and mad cow, McDonald’s=obesity and diabetes.
5. Pressure
There is so much pressure to be perfect. Skin too pale? Tan. Teeth not like pearls? Whiten them. Have a wrinkle? Have surgery to remove it. Bald? Grow back your hair. Have thighs? Suck the fat out. Boobs to small? Make them bigger. Boobs to big? Make them smaller. Going to college? Better go to a good one. ACTs too low? Take a class for $5000.
We have so much pressure to be perfect that we don’t have time to stop and just, sorry to be cheesy, love each other. To send their kids to that perfect college, both parents work and work and work and don’t get to see their children grow up. But without the love of parents, how can any child really succeed in life? That’s sad.
6. And even more pressure for women
Need to be thin. Need to get married. Need to be smart. Need to be charming. Need to cook. Need to have kids. Need to raise kids well. Need to have a great job. Need to make money. Need clothes. Need makeup. Need surgery. Need 401K. Need health insurance.
Ok, I’ve made my point. So…
Life up your bottles of Prozac, Zoloft, Paxil, Luvox, Welbutrin, and Effexor and let’s cheer to the post-modern world which is making us all crazy.
Let me know what you think is making everyone so sad.
Showing posts with label medicine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label medicine. Show all posts
Friday, October 10, 2008
Doctor saves my dad's life; tugs at my feminist heart strings
The following writing could be gender neutral or appositive towards men. However, to write as such would be disingenuous to my current state of emoting feminism. With that said, feel free to apply it to whomever you choose.
A 6:30 a.m. I entered the surgical prep room where my dad was already in bed donning a hospital gown. My brother, a physician, was chatting with friends at the hospital and making my dad feel at ease.
Then she walked in. Dr. Talia Baker. Transplant Surgeon. At age 41 she is one of the top transplant surgeons at Northwestern University Hospital. She is about 5’6, thin build, blue eyes and dark hair worn in a hybrid layered cut/bob.
Talia has three kids, all under the age of five. She majored in history and then decided to go to medical school. She speaks confidently that “your dad will do just great in the surgery.” I believe her.
Eight and a half hours later she emerges from surgery looking tired but cheerful. She explains with depth and precision why my father’s surgery took so long and complications that she anticipates. I imagine her standing in the surgical room (did I mention it took 8 hours!) cutting my father open, maneuvering through the layers of scar tissue, flipping his liver, and then resecting it and resecting it again until comfortable that the margins are centimeters free of cancer. I imagine her wearing her mini binoculars on her glasses so that she can see precisely the hernias from previous surgeries and the hundred or so bile ducts that have formed as a result of liver damage.
As she anticipates my dad’s recovery, I resist the urge to tackle her with a huge hug of thanks. As soon as I can, I go to the intensive care unit to see my dad. He is doing fine. Many tubes, a mask to help him breathe, but he is just fine. He is even cracking jokes half true to his personality and half fueled by the pain medication and left over anesthetic.
As I return to the surgical waiting room I see the magazines that my sister in law bought to entertain us while we awaited my dad’s emergence from surgery: People and US magazine.
To be fair, I read US Magazine especially if I’m feeling stressed because it helps get my mind off reality. But then I wondered…
How would our world be different if we lauded the Talia Bakers in the world? What if the top selling magazine covers featured women whose contributions mattered, instead of focusing on Britney’s drug problem, Lindsey’s drug problem, Paris’ drug problem, the extra fat on so and sos stomach and the 30 pounds someone was paid to lose by a diet company whose results are unreliable. Why are we focused on who got what plastic surgery and who is dating or cheating on whom?
In addition, why do we fuel the hyper commercialization of young people with marginal talent whose biggest achievement is attaining stardom because of aggressive publicists or being related to famous parents?
Imagine a magazine that features the winner of the Science Olympiad. Or an artist that created art. Or a composer of music. Why are we not featuring these kids’ successes instead of solely focusing on the rich, famous and f-ed up? What if we knew the stories of the genetic counselors who guide a woman at risk of having a child born with a genetic disease through conception and pregnancy; or the special education teacher who teaches her students to read; or the speech language pathologist who teachers her autistic student to speak; or the volunteer in Africa who counsels victims of rape? Or the attorney at the ACLU who protects a woman’s right to choose? Or the aid who cares for an elderly woman with Alzheimer’s?
Perhaps in this post feminist age, in this uber obsessed celebrity culture, this is the final battle women must fight: the battle to celebrate and promote achievements, even permeate the culture with such accomplishments, which are completely unrelated to looks or sex appeal.
Imagine young women dumping the Hillary Duff and Hannah Montana posters for ones of Condoleeza Rice shaking hands with a Saudi Prince? Or of Justices Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Sandra Day O’Connor at the U.S. Supreme Court? Or of the top doctor of their town with her arm around a patient she saved after a car accident?
If the day comes when women are revered for what in reality benefits our society rather than the materialism that overwhelms Americans then perhaps this next generation of young women will become “the greatest generation” of the 21st century. If we continue to revere women only based on their breasts, hair, and waist size, I have no doubt that the future of our country is bleak and Barbie better watch out or her next job will be as a contestant on “The Biggest Loser.”
A 6:30 a.m. I entered the surgical prep room where my dad was already in bed donning a hospital gown. My brother, a physician, was chatting with friends at the hospital and making my dad feel at ease.
Then she walked in. Dr. Talia Baker. Transplant Surgeon. At age 41 she is one of the top transplant surgeons at Northwestern University Hospital. She is about 5’6, thin build, blue eyes and dark hair worn in a hybrid layered cut/bob.
Talia has three kids, all under the age of five. She majored in history and then decided to go to medical school. She speaks confidently that “your dad will do just great in the surgery.” I believe her.
Eight and a half hours later she emerges from surgery looking tired but cheerful. She explains with depth and precision why my father’s surgery took so long and complications that she anticipates. I imagine her standing in the surgical room (did I mention it took 8 hours!) cutting my father open, maneuvering through the layers of scar tissue, flipping his liver, and then resecting it and resecting it again until comfortable that the margins are centimeters free of cancer. I imagine her wearing her mini binoculars on her glasses so that she can see precisely the hernias from previous surgeries and the hundred or so bile ducts that have formed as a result of liver damage.
As she anticipates my dad’s recovery, I resist the urge to tackle her with a huge hug of thanks. As soon as I can, I go to the intensive care unit to see my dad. He is doing fine. Many tubes, a mask to help him breathe, but he is just fine. He is even cracking jokes half true to his personality and half fueled by the pain medication and left over anesthetic.
As I return to the surgical waiting room I see the magazines that my sister in law bought to entertain us while we awaited my dad’s emergence from surgery: People and US magazine.
To be fair, I read US Magazine especially if I’m feeling stressed because it helps get my mind off reality. But then I wondered…
How would our world be different if we lauded the Talia Bakers in the world? What if the top selling magazine covers featured women whose contributions mattered, instead of focusing on Britney’s drug problem, Lindsey’s drug problem, Paris’ drug problem, the extra fat on so and sos stomach and the 30 pounds someone was paid to lose by a diet company whose results are unreliable. Why are we focused on who got what plastic surgery and who is dating or cheating on whom?
In addition, why do we fuel the hyper commercialization of young people with marginal talent whose biggest achievement is attaining stardom because of aggressive publicists or being related to famous parents?
Imagine a magazine that features the winner of the Science Olympiad. Or an artist that created art. Or a composer of music. Why are we not featuring these kids’ successes instead of solely focusing on the rich, famous and f-ed up? What if we knew the stories of the genetic counselors who guide a woman at risk of having a child born with a genetic disease through conception and pregnancy; or the special education teacher who teaches her students to read; or the speech language pathologist who teachers her autistic student to speak; or the volunteer in Africa who counsels victims of rape? Or the attorney at the ACLU who protects a woman’s right to choose? Or the aid who cares for an elderly woman with Alzheimer’s?
Perhaps in this post feminist age, in this uber obsessed celebrity culture, this is the final battle women must fight: the battle to celebrate and promote achievements, even permeate the culture with such accomplishments, which are completely unrelated to looks or sex appeal.
Imagine young women dumping the Hillary Duff and Hannah Montana posters for ones of Condoleeza Rice shaking hands with a Saudi Prince? Or of Justices Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Sandra Day O’Connor at the U.S. Supreme Court? Or of the top doctor of their town with her arm around a patient she saved after a car accident?
If the day comes when women are revered for what in reality benefits our society rather than the materialism that overwhelms Americans then perhaps this next generation of young women will become “the greatest generation” of the 21st century. If we continue to revere women only based on their breasts, hair, and waist size, I have no doubt that the future of our country is bleak and Barbie better watch out or her next job will be as a contestant on “The Biggest Loser.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)