I want to comment at length on the remarks that folks have made about the Medscape roundtable on drug industry funding of CME, but that will have to wait for another day or two. In the meantime I wanted to share with you the delightfully impish humor of a 90+ year-old patient that I admitted to the hospital recently. Still living at home and reasonably independent, there was not a question she had all of her (razor-sharp) wits about her, and she had a gleeful sense of mischief. Just as I was finishing up taking her history and performing a physical exam, interspersed with asides and stories from her long life, she wanted to let me know about her perspective on passing the 90 mark.
She said, "this is my favorite quote:
I get up every morning and dust off my wits; I pick up the newspaper and read all the obits
Oh, my name is missing so guess I'm not dead; So, I gobble my breakfast and hop back into bed!"
It took me a little poking around to find it on the internet, but this appears to be a piece of a poem by a woman named Donna Mccay entitled "I'm Fine Just Growing Older," a cute piece in its entirety as well.