The NRA was rightfully lambasted after telling trauma doctors to 'stay in their lane.'

The NRA apparently thinks doctors who treat gunshot wounds shouldn't have opinions about guns.

Looking at the NRA's Twitter feed after a mass shooting is a fascinating exercise. One might at least expect some "thoughts and prayers" after a gunman walks into a bar and kills 12 people with a gun, but there's no mention of the Thousand Oaks shooting incident at all. Nada. Zilch.

There is, however, a mind-blowing bungle of a tweet from the day before the shooting addressing doctors who advocate for gun control legislation.


"Someone should tell self-important anti-gun doctors to stay in their lane," the tweet reads. "Half of the articles in Annals of Internal Medicine are pushing for gun control. Most upsetting, however, the medical community seems to have consulted NO ONE but themselves."  

Trauma doctors who treat gunshot victims were not having it.

When your job is saving lives, and you see the carnage a bullet can do to a body on a regular basis, you may have some thoughts on guns. And when your job is to research how to save lives, and that research shows that gun regulations lead to fewer gun deaths, you may have some opinions.

And not just any old opinions—highly informed, backed-up-by-facts opinions. And sorry, NRA, but those of us who still believe in science and common sense will take the opinion of experts in the risks of guns and the damage gunfire can do over the opinion of an organization whose sole purpose is to promote guns.

Just a sampling of the clap back from doctors the NRA received:

The Annals of Internal Medicine tweeted, "We wish we could," and then dropped load of research.

Just once I'd love to see a professional organization tell the NRA to shove it where the sun don't shine and leave it at that, but I know that would backfire.

The AIM, however, did respond in a calm and reasonable manner, with a link to pages and pages of research on how guns relate to health—in other words, "their lane."

And if you're wondering what got the NRA's panties in such a twist to begin with, this thread summarizes the lead up to it:

And here's some more research, just for the fun of it:

The NRA is out of its lane—and way out of its league.

Telling the people whose sole job is to figure out how to save lives that working to prevent the 33,000 deaths by firearm in America every year—not to mention the tens of thousands more who are wounded by gun violence—is not "their lane" is one of the more asinine things the NRA has tried to do. If they wanted to make themselves look even more foolish than they already do to a significant portion of the U.S., they've succeeded.

If you come for the doctors—the ones who study public health and who see first hand the devastating effects of gun violence—expect to get taken down in the most epic fashion.

That burn's gotta hurt, NRA. Sending our thought and prayers.

Simon & Garfunkel's song "Bridge Over Troubled Water" has been covered by more than 50 different musical artists, from Aretha Franklin to Elvis Presley to Willie Nelson. It's a timeless classic that taps into the universal struggle of feeling down and the comfort of having someone to lift us up. It's beloved for its soothing melody and cathartic lyrics, and after a year of pandemic challenges, it's perhaps more poignant now than ever.

A few years a go, American singer-songwriter Yebba Smith shared a solo a capella version of a part of "Bridge Over Troubled Water," in which she just casually sits and sings it on a bed. It's an impressive rendition on its own, highlighting Yebba's soulful, effortless voice.

But British singer Jacob Collier recently added his own layered harmony tracks to it, taking the performance to a whole other level.

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Images courtesy of John Scully, Walden University, Ingrid Scully
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Since March of 2020, over 29 million Americans have been diagnosed with COVID-19, according to the CDC. Over 540,000 have died in the United States as this unprecedented pandemic has swept the globe. And yet, by the end of 2020, it looked like science was winning: vaccines had been developed.

In celebration of the power of science we spoke to three people: an individual, a medical provider, and a vaccine scientist about how vaccines have impacted them throughout their lives. Here are their answers:

John Scully, 79, resident of Florida

Photo courtesy of John Scully

When John Scully was born, America was in the midst of an epidemic: tens of thousands of children in the United States were falling ill with paralytic poliomyelitis — otherwise known as polio, a disease that attacks the central nervous system and often leaves its victims partially or fully paralyzed.

"As kids, we were all afraid of getting polio," he says, "because if you got polio, you could end up in the dreaded iron lung and we were all terrified of those." Iron lungs were respirators that enclosed most of a person's body; people with severe cases often would end up in these respirators as they fought for their lives.

John remembers going to see matinee showings of cowboy movies on Saturdays and, before the movie, shorts would run. "Usually they showed the news," he says, "but I just remember seeing this one clip warning us about polio and it just showed all these kids in iron lungs." If kids survived the iron lung, they'd often come back to school on crutches, in leg braces, or in wheelchairs.

"We all tried to be really careful in the summer — or, as we called it back then, 'polio season,''" John says. This was because every year around Memorial Day, major outbreaks would begin to emerge and they'd spike sometime around August. People weren't really sure how the disease spread at the time, but many believed it traveled through the water. There was no cure — and every child was susceptible to getting sick with it.

"We couldn't swim in hot weather," he remembers, "and the municipal outdoor pool would close down in August."

Then, in 1954 clinical trials began for Dr. Jonas Salk's vaccine against polio and within a year, his vaccine was announced safe. "I got that vaccine at school," John says. Within two years, U.S. polio cases had dropped 85-95 percent — even before a second vaccine was developed by Dr. Albert Sabin in the 1960s. "I remember how much better things got after the vaccines came out. They changed everything," John says.

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