Trust Me--I'm a Doctor

Donald Trump, who never met a hyperbole he didn’t like, stated that during his recent medical examination at Walter Reed National Medical Center he underwent an MRI test, which result he exalted as “perfect.” 

The strange thing is that neither the White House nor the doctor on the case backed up Trump’s claim to having had an MRI. The closest either got to admitting that Trump had undergone a special test was the White House’s statement that the president had undergone “advanced imaging.” (1)

Now, an MRI is not a random examination tool. An MRI scan is specifically directed at a particular problem. In my case, I have had an MRI scan of my left leg, which determined that I was suffering from sciatica, and an MRI of my back, which informed me that all my bones seemed to be in the wrong places. In neither case was the MRI part of a regular physical examination (because that is not what it is designed for). Trump himself has not indicated what part of his body the alleged MRI was examining.

###

What we do know about Trump’s health is that he is suffering from “chronic venous insufficiency.” 

Chronic venous insufficiency slows down blood flow from your legs back up to your heart. Without treatment, CVI raises the pressure in your leg veins so much that your tiniest blood vessels (capillaries) burst. (2)

How to determine how well the blood flow is working?

A stress test. 

The stress test is used to reveal any issues with blood flow caused by a range of conditions such as blockages in arteries (atherosclerotic coronary artery disease), high blood pressure and risk of congestive heart failure. (3)

There are several types of stress tests; the treadmill is perhaps the most prevalent. 

However, I wish to focus on another type of stress test, which I underwent last month: (4)

• Pharmacologic stress test: If a patient is unable to exercise on a treadmill due to arthritis or another medical condition, the stress test can be done with the use of certain medications administered through an IV. These medications can mimic the effect of exercise in the body by increasing blood flow. This is followed by either an echocardiogram or a nuclear imaging. (5)

During a Pharmacologic stress test the patient is laid out under a machine that to an untrained eye can look like a PET scan or CT scan apparatus—or, indeed, like an MRI scanner.

                                                                          Stress Test Machine

###

So, to conclude my practicing medicine without a license (except, maybe, poetic), I believe, since there is no confirmation by medical personnel that an MRI was done (or evidence produced of an area of concern that an MRI would have addressed), that Trump, unable to distinguish among different medical devices, misspoke, labeling a Pharmacologic stress test—which would be appropriate for his blood flow issues—for an MRI. 

***

(1)  https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/donald-trump/trump-health-mri-walter-reed-physical-exam-bruise-swelling-rcna240076 

(2)  https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/16872-chronic-venous-insufficiency-cvi

(3)  https://www.novanthealth.org/healthy-headlines/your-doctor-has-ordered-a-stress-test-9-common-questions-answered

(4)  Unhyperbolically, my result was declared “normal.”

(5)  See above, the White House statement about “advanced imaging.”

2+2=?

The World Series is underway. As a native of Brooklyn, should I root for the California Dodgers for some residual nostalgic reason? Or, should I root for the Toronto Blue Jays to exhibit solidarity with our sorely-beset neighbors?

*

Actually, although I was a baseball freak in my younger days, I no longer follow the game. Well, it’s more like the game left me.  

Once upon a time, the Major Leagues consisted of two leagues—the National and the American—each of which had eight teams playing 158 games a season. At the conclusion of the regular season, the teams with the best records—the pennant winners—squared off in the World Series. How excited New Yorkers would be with the anticipation that the National League Dodgers or Giants might meet the American League Yankees in the so-called “autumn classic.”

Now, however, there is no guarantee that the best regular-season teams will meet in the Series, for there are 30 teams in six divisions, and the Series participants are determined by a playoff. (It so happened that this year Toronto was the best team in the American League, but the Dodgers were far from the best in the National.)

(I will get back to the playoffs later.)

*

The abduction of the Brooklyn Dodgers by the scoundrel Walter O’Malley to some hole in the ground on the West Coast was a bitter blow. But still, baseball as we knew it went on. Until 1973—when the American League adopted the designated hitter rule, which allows some shlub who can’t move around the field to bat instead of a weak-hitting pitcher. 

Defenders of the designated hitter like to rationale the rule by proclaiming—as if they have discovered the phrase juste—“I’d rather see the shlub hit than the pitcher.”

I once had a board game called Tom Hamilton’s Football. Both teams had a mixture of players ranked as stars, seconds, or scrubs. Each of the coaches had to juggle his squad, and never had enough stars to cover all eleven positions. In other words, there was no possibility of a perfectly accomplished team. As a coach you had to take the good with the not-so-good. Like life.

And that’s what was grand about baseball, which gave us the expression “good field/no hit.” It understood the trade-offs that needed to be made in life. 

But baseball—and other sports—no longer want trade-offs. What is wanted is offense—power. Consider one of the prime events these days at baseball’s All-Star game—the home run hitting contest. The spotlight on hitting home runs places all other aspects of a complex eco-system into darkness: the cat-and-mouse between batter and pitcher; the fleetness of the base stealer; the cockiness of the bunter; the range of the slick-fielding shortstop; the nay-saying of the rally-stopping relief pitcher.

Basketball has a similar mono-focus with its slam-dunk contest and games that all seem to end 148-145.

The famous soccer coach José Mourinho complained that opponents dared employ defensive tactics against his sides, saying, “They parked the bus.” What he neglected to admit was that in his sport both offense and defense are legitimate and that if you think your side is better than us, then prove it by trying to get around our defense. 

*

As noted above, in days of yore it was with great anticipation that one awaited the pennant-winning team from the other league. How would the teams compare? It was the season-ending highlight as the two best teams finally met. But now there is in-season inter-league play. So the Mets meet the Yankees again and again (yawn).

And the playoffs. They are not a meritocracy. The best eight teams do not automatically get into the quarter-finals. The fifth and sixth placed teams in each league get to play the third and fourth placed teams (as “wild cards”). 

The National Hockey League has the most famous of all play-offs—the Stanley Cup. The 32 teams of the NHL compete over an 82-game season for one of the 16 places in the playoffs. Despite the urging of some media types, the League has not yielded to the call for a play-in. The argument that I have heard for a play-in is that it would give the fans of the ninth-placed teams in each conference something to cheer for at the end of the regular season. Well, on that basis, why not let the fans of the tenth-placed team or eleventh have the fun of a playoff game? (We can get really reductionist here.) 

You played 82 games and you couldn’t beat me; why should you get an 83rd? The line has to be drawn somewhere. This is it—genug!

Or perhaps we should all accept a near-miss as being a good-enough result. 

Something like 2+2=5.

 

  

Language Follies 25 (Unfashionable)

Question of the Day (1)

 

By Vanessa Friedman NY Times:

 “What is the purpose of women’s fashion?”

Answer

To allow us to laugh at affectless stick insects.

*

Question of the Day (2)

 “Can I Bring Drugs to Your Wedding?”

(New York Magazine)

*

Game of the Day (Where’s Weirdo?)

*

Numerically Challenged

*

Calendrically Challenged

*

Fishy Business (Question of the Day #3)

Do you want your Norwegian salmon a product of Germany?

Or produced in Greece?

How about sardines from Poland?

*

Help Needed

*

Least Likely Statistic of the Day

“Many people have found love on dating apps; 1 in 10 U.S. adults with partners met them through a dating site or app in 2022.”

Washington Post 

*

The Omnipotent Whomever

Under that title The New Yorker once upon a time would call out misuses in other publications.

Who’s editing The New Yorker website these days?

As Bernstein noted in a recent Substack, the President’s approach involves “making weird, bespoke deals with whomever happens to show up in the Oval . . .”

John Cassidy, September 29, 2025

*

Happy Land 

Yemen means  “to the right,” which is where it is if you're standing somewhere in upper Arabia looking south. Herodotus enthusiastically called it God's Land, and the Romans called it Arabia Felix, meaning Happy Arabia.

The New Yorker, Oct. 4 1947

 

What's the Purpose of Thursday?

Today is Thursday.

Why?

What is the purpose of Thursday?

*

Everybody understands the weekend. Saturday and Sunday—though not exactly the same—are welcome because of the opportunity to throw the alarm clock out the window and sleep as long as one wishes. Also, one can dress however one wants. Shaving and showering are optional. 

The days differ in these ways, however. Saturday, like Friday, offers the opportunity to get dressed up and party the night away (no alarm clock the next morning). Sunday, though, becomes antsy as the day advances (there is the alarm clock the next day). Filled with regret for the missed possibilities of the day, we recover the clock from the garden—and awake the next day to . . .

Monday! The worst day of the week. Back into our uniform and subject to routine, we resent every minute of Monday. In reaction, we do nothing at work. Maybe push some paper around, pretending it’s the Magna Carta or something. But nothing real is accomplished. Which leaves . . .

Tuesday. The one day in which work is done: Monday’s leftover work and Tuesday’s own pile of crap. We work twice as hard and at the end of the day are ready to collapse. 

The Germans understand Wednesday; they call it Mittwoch, the middle of the week. It is the pivot day, the day in which the resentment directed backwards to the two previous days shifts to anticipation of what’s to come.

What’s to come should be Friday, that lovely day which will free us of the work week and allow us to party all night (see Saturday) because we’re free from routine and order for the weekend once we walk out the door of work. 

But, alas, Friday doesn’t come after Wednesday. There’s Thursday. Quicksand to inhibit our progress to the transition to the weekend. It takes the patience of Job to make it through Thursday without screaming, “Where is Friday?” 

Unfortunately, there’s no way of speeding up the clock. We have to shoulder the burden of Thursday. And 24 hours too late, greet Friday with a sigh.

*

So I ask again, “What’s the purpose of Thursday?”