Letters

Letters

By
December 2007

Hook it up

As a total hoops junkie, I found Robert Sanchez's story on Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf ["The Conversion of Chris Jackson," October] fascinating. The guy I first watched as Chris Jackson was an original, however you took him. He was worth a ticket; as exciting a scorer for his size as I've ever seen. But I take issue with the premise that not standing for the national anthem killed his career. The real problem was his shaky D. His game was "you score, I score." When he had to match up with bigger guards, the Nuggets usually suffered. They'll let you pray to any God in the NBA if you've got enough game.
Terry Jessup
via e-mail

I just finished reading your well-written piece "The Conversion of Chris Jackson." The arrogance of this person fills me with anger. He seems to be asking for a lot of respect and understanding while giving none to his native country. If America and our flag are so contemptible, he should leave this country.
Michael Pimentel
Denver

Doctor's Note

In reading your "Top Docs" issue [October], I was disgusted by Dr. Leslie Capin's comments about various cancers—"Give me breast cancer. Give my husband prostate cancer. But not melanoma." How in the world can you publish such rubbish that so ignorantly, callously, and arrogantly claims that other types of cancers are less intrusive, dangerous, and life-threatening than melanoma?
R. Glenn
via e-mail

As a woman and a registered nurse, I was especially appalled at the article by Dr. Leslie Capin. In it she said she would rather have breast cancer, her husband prostate cancer, rather than melanoma. What an ignorant comment for anyone to make, let alone someone you view as a Top Doc. Ask any woman or man afflicted with any form of cancer and they would undoubtedly never say they would rather have another form of the dreaded disease. Only someone with no empathy or knowledge of its true ravaging effects could possibly be so flippant.
Lynne R. Friedman, R.N.
via e-mail

For the Love of Medicine

I wanted to write and tell you how much I enjoyed Lindsey Koehler's article in the latest 5280 ["A Doctor's Choice," October]. It was so well-written and so honest. She captured a lot of amazing emotions in the piece. Even though I am on the other side of it—I'm the spouse (and mom) who's always gone—it made my heart ache a bit over the collective sacrifice that medicine demands of all of us. The article caught me at one of those times where I occasionally take that sacrifice out of my pocket, turn it over in my hands, and take a long look at it. Every time so far, I've put it back in my pocket for safekeeping while I go forward, but sometimes it's harder than others. It's a long road and there is a definite price—there are moments that I will never get back of my children's childhood, and regrets for the times I was too tired to return a caress. But you were right, too, that it is also indulging that part of me that relishes a good fight and wouldn't have it any other way but hard, intense, and worth it. Most of all, the article made me intensely grateful for my husband—and for you and other loved ones—who support us and love us and are even proud of us, after all the things we put you through.
Sara Cheng, M.D., Ph.D.
Denver

I have a subscription to 5280, but after reading "A Doctor's Choice" I will likely never pick your magazine up again. My heart reaches out to poor Lindsey whose husband isn't always home to keep her warm at night, who has to endure an early alarm clock, not to mention the "science types" in social settings. These are the things she clearly implies are "not so small" after all. She needs a reality check. These really are small things, not to mention petty. She has a comfortable life with a man that loves her (who is a doctor!), yet she waxed poetic about the truly small things in her life that annoy her. I cannot believe this magazine saw fit to publish a five-page article written by a woman whining about the petty things in her perfect life, while the rest of us are struggling to find even a small piece of the happiness and bliss she has.
Laney Johnson
Denver

Hick to the Rescue

Upon the conclusion of the Taxi-Limo-Para Transit Association convention, which was held last week at the Denver Convention Center, my boss (79) and myself (a youthful 75) were faced with a dilemma. We needed to get ourselves and our materials to our hotel room at the Hyatt Regency. Although it's just next door, it posed a long walk. Needless to say, we were exhausted after our three-day stint and attempted to find a taxicab. Ironic, isn't it, that after being at the taxi convention, we couldn't locate a taxi?

However, we did successfully flag down an SUV leaving the Convention Center. A pleasant and friendly gentleman offered not only to take us to our hotel, but made room for our equipment. This same gentleman, who was not the driver, but rather the passenger in the back of the car, insisted on helping us load our luggage into the SUV. A few minutes later, this pleasant gentleman introduced himself. And who was he? The honorable John W. Hickenlooper, the mayor of your wonderful city.

As we arrived at our hotel, Mayor Hickenlooper insisted upon helping us remove our bags. We cannot think of any way to thank him, other than bring his kindness and warmth to the attention of the citizens of Denver.
Ted Carter
Boca Raton, Florida

Corrections
In "Diagnosis Unorthodox" [October], biodynamic craniosacral practitioner Marcia Klump was quoted as saying, "[I] move my own personal energy around inside the area that's blocked." Klump would like to emphasize that she does not move her own energy, rather, "The innate wisdom of health [in the patient] allows the release of the energetic patterns and the process of healing to begin."

In "Top Doctors" [October] we omitted HealthOne hospitals and the Children's Hospital from Dr. Talat Khan's listing.

In "Just to Clarify" [August] it was reported the Zuni tribe of Native Americans lives in southern Colorado. They actually live in New Mexico.

In "Green Rooms" [August] we misspelled Jodi Feinhor-Dennis' last name.

We regret the errors.