Tag Archives: Joel Teelucksingh

There is a quiet daily miracle. Not the kind that makes headlines. Not the kind that is measured in numbers, charts or statistics. The kind that lives in kitchens before sunrise, in whispered prayers at bedside, in sacrifices that are never announced, only felt. We call it motherhood. And if …

There is a phrase patients love to hear. And one that doctors are quietly relieved to say. “Your blood tests are normal.” It lands gently. Reassuring. Final. Almost like a verdict in your favour. You’re fine. Sometimes, you’re not. Because “normal” is one of the most comforting words in medicine. …

It has been one of those weeks. The kind that leaves a residue. Murders that shock, then settle uneasily into the background. A parliamentary inquiry that veers, unexpectedly, into something resembling theatre complete with shameless “track changes”—as if oversight itself required editing. And now, the reports from Cumuto. Each story …

There is something quietly disarming about watching a child see a giraffe in the zoo for the first time. The pause. The widening of the eyes. The small hand tightening around yours, as though this impossibly tall, gentle creature might suddenly look back. In that moment, something happens that medicine …

We trust Google more than doctors. And it is costing us. We are living in the most medically advanced time in human history. Unfortunately, trust in medicine has never felt more fragile. It has worsened since Covid. We can map the human genome. We can replace failing organs. We can …

There are many ways to kill a man. Some are sudden. Some are brutal. Some are mercifully brief. Crucifixion was a slow, deliberate medical death. The Romans may not have had physiology textbooks, blood gas analysis or intensive care units, but they understood something grimly practical about the human body: …

The danger was never the word. The danger… was that it sounded familiar. Once upon a time, leadership had a language. It was measured. It was deliberate. It understood that words, once spoken, carried weight far beyond the moment in which they were uttered. Today, it seems, we are learning …

At six o’clock one morning not too long ago, a woman sat quietly outside a public clinic with a numbered card in her hand. She had arrived before sunrise. Not because she wanted to—because she had to. Her eyes were failing for months. The headaches were becoming more frequent. Work …

Something strange has been happening in Trinidad and Tobago. Ask almost anyone how they are sleeping and the answer is rarely enthusiastic. “I not sleeping good these days.” It is said casually, often with a small shrug, as if poor sleep were simply another inconvenience of modern life. Covid exacerbated …

Many women arrive in clinic apologising for their bodies. “Doctor, I know… it’s my weight.” They say it before I check their blood pressure. Before I review their blood tests. Before I ask about sleep, stress, grief, work, hormones or the fact that they have not eaten a quiet meal …

There is a fashionable word for what many people feel right now. Burnout. It sounds modern. Sophisticated. Almost noble. The inevitable tax of ambition. But I am not convinced burnout is the correct diagnosis. I suspect something far less poetic. You are not burned out. You are biochemically overloaded. And …

At first glance, the “wellness industry” looks marvellous. It speaks about prevention. It mentions gut health, cortisol, mitochondria and hormones. But if you watch closely, you’ll notice something peculiar. It never wants you finished. It wants you improved. Optimised. Detoxed. Biohacked. Reset. Rebalanced. Rejuvenated. But never done. A cured patient …