21st Century Cures Act will distort the meaning of ‘FDA approved’

The term “FDA approved” means a lot to those of us working in health care and the patients we treat. But if the 21st Century Cures Act becomes law – the House of Representatives approved it Wednesday and the Senate will vote on it next week – this mark of trustworthy stewardship will become a shadow… Read the rest of this entry »

The saga continues, thanks to an intriguing letter from the Baltimore Police. Or, perhaps, the whole thing never happened at all.

Check out my latest bit of medical advice. There’s a happy ending! Or at least an elastic one.

compression-socks-and-plane_web

Thanks Charles Rammelkamp for including three poems of mine in the latest issue of The Potomac — one original work, and two translations from Avrom Sutzkever’s Diary Poems. (And don’t forget to check out Carol Berkower‘s lovely verse in the same issue!)

Here’s one of those translations of Sutzkever’s Yiddish:

1975

Explain it? Explain it how?
The sun didn’t turn colder,
but she won’t melt tears
and only childhood gets no older.

Youth, her brother, was trampled
like red grapes in the cellar.
The shadow’s hair turns silver
and only childhood gets no older.

Her snows and her violets
are not to be had for gold.
Her king grows old, as does his kingdom
and only childhood gets no older.

From Diary Poems by Avrom Sutzkever,
translated from the Yiddish

Please come and hear me read from Making Sense of Medicine on Tuesday, August 2, at 7pm, at Baltimore’s Ivy Bookshop.

My translation from the Hebrew of Natan Alterman’s poem The Shadow is now posted at the Manhattanville Review, and also — below! (Check out the journal website for a little squib about my translation philosophy or lack thereof.)

Natan_Alterman

The Shadow
Natan Alterman
From Hebrew: Zackary Sholem Berger

Once there was a man and his shadow.
One night the shadow stood up
took the man’s shoes and coat,
put them on. Passing by
it took the man’s hat from the hook,
trying as well to remove his head —
without success. It took his face off
and put that on too. If that weren’t enough
next morning he went out with his walking stick.
The man ran down the street after him
shrieking to his friends: What a terrible thing!
It’s a shadow! A clown! It’s not me! I’ll
write the authorities! He can’t get away with it! He wailed
bitterly, but little by little got used to it, fell silent, till at last
he forgot about the incident.

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