濮阳东方医院治早泄价格非常低(濮阳东方妇科非常专业) (今日更新中)

As more and more states legalize marijuana, a Colorado family and Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) want people to know about the devastating consequences of driving while high.Amanda Hill loved all things animal. The 24-year-old had landed a coveted internship at the Denver Zoo and was well on her way to becoming a vet tech.“She was like an animal whisperer,” said Amanda’s mother, Denise Hill. “She loved animals. Animals made her feel better. She didn’t always get along with humans as she did with animals.”The two were extremely close. Denise says on a sunny June day near Denver, Colorado, the two worked in the garage until Amanda had to leave for an appointment.“I’m thankful that when she left, I gave her a hug and told her I loved her,” said Denise.Then, she got a phone call.“I picked the phone up and instead, it was that phone call that every parent dreads,” said the mother.On a road that Amanda travels all the time, and in the middle of the afternoon, she was hit head on.“And the impact was such that the sheriff who showed up later said its typically not survivable at the level they recorded,” Denise said.While the medical staff worked to save her life, they let Ed and Denise Hill have a few moments with their daughter.“We got those precious few seconds to tell her we loved her,” said Denise. “The last thing I told her was you’re going to be okay.”Amanda didn't make it. Two years later, her parents are keeping her memory alive, fighting for tougher laws for people who drive while high on marijuana. They believe the sentence that was handed down to the driver who caused the accident that killed their daughter was too lenient.“There’s so much that’s not understood about driving high, how long it stays in your system, what effect it truly has,” said Denise.Helen Witty, National President of Mothers Against Drunk Driving, said “I think the frightening thing is that almost half of Americans think it's okay to drive after smoking marijuana even in the first two hours.”Witty also lost her 16-year-old daughter in an accident. That driver was also drinking. And had smoked marijuana.“When she died so violently and suddenly, I always would say, my daughter would be saying, mother say something. Do something. Not mom, mother.”A new study sponsored by MADD and dedicated to Amanda Hill found that 26% of people surveyed think that driving after marijuana consumption is "not too concerning" and more than 40% of parents and grandparents reported never discussing the subject.“The legalization happened before the data is out there,” said Witty. “The data is actually that it’s different for every person”Ed and Denise Hill say they are proof of what one decision can do to a family. Amanda's loss is a painful void that they feel every day."The first thing you have to do is decide whether you want to live anymore and if you make the decision to live, then you have to decide how you’re going to live,” said Denise. “Are you going to just get through each day or is there going to be some kind of meaning in your life?”The meaning is in her memory – a life cut too short, a death that was entirely preventable. 3154

AVON PARK -- A traffic stop in Avon Park, Florida, on Sunday led to what the Highlands County Sheriff's Office calls one of the largest drug seizures in recent memory in their county. Deputies confiscated enough fentanyl to kill nearly 40,000 people, as well as over a pound of heroin and nearly a pound of cocaine.Around 7:40 p.m., Deputy Seth Abeln saw a blue Ford Focus on North Central Avenue that had a tag light out. After Abeln stopped the vehicle, Deputy Ben Jones and K-9 Gentry were called to do a free air sniff of the vehicle. According to the sheriff's office, Gentry indicated there were drugs in the car.A search of the vehicle turned up:● 554 grams of heroin● 450 grams of cocaine● 99.6 grams of fentanyl● 975 oxycodone pills● 107 Xanax pills● 90 vape pens with liquid THCThe sheriff's office says a dose of 2-3 milligrams of fentanyl is enough to be deadly, meaning there was enough of the drug to kill 40,000 people using 2.5 milligrams as a fatal dose. To put that in perspective, that would be enough to kill nearly 40 percent of the people in Highlands County.The street value of the fentanyl is ,000. Add that to the ,000 of cocaine, ,000 of oxycodone and ,000 of heroin, and the total seizure is worth 0,000 on the street, not including the value of the vape pens.There was also a loaded handgun inside the car. deputies say. The driver, 40-year-old Ruben Ramirez-Rivera, was arrested and charged with:● trafficking cocaine● trafficking heroin● trafficking oxycodone● trafficking a controlled substance● possession of opium or a derivative (fentanyl) with intent to sell/deliver● possession of a Schedule III or IV drug with intent to sell/deliver● possession of heroin with intent to sell/deliver● possession of cocaine with intent to sell/deliver● felony possession of marijuana● possession of a weapon during commission of a first-degree felony● possession of drug equipmentRivera is being held without bond at the Highlands County Jail.“I’m very proud of the work done by the deputies involved in this arrest,” Sheriff Paul Blackman said. “To take this amount of drugs off the street is a huge accomplishment, and our county is safer because of it.”This article was written by Dan Trujillo for WFTS. 2249

As the novel coronavirus emerged in the news in January, Sarah Keeley was working as a medical scribe and considering what to do with her biology degree.By February, as the disease crept across the U.S., Keeley found her calling: a career in public health. “This is something that’s going to be necessary,” Keeley remembered thinking. “This is something I can do. This is something I’m interested in.”In August, Keeley began studying at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign to become an epidemiologist.Public health programs in the United States have seen a surge in enrollment as the coronavirus has swept through the country, killing more than 247,000 people. As state and local public health departments struggle with unprecedented challenges — slashed budgets, surging demand, staff departures and even threats to workers’ safety —- a new generation is entering the field.Among the more than 100 schools and public health programs that use the common application — a single admissions application form that students can send to multiple schools — there was a 20% increase in applications to master’s in public health programs for the current academic year, to nearly 40,000, according to the Association of Schools and Programs of Public Health.Some programs are seeing even bigger jumps. Applications to Brown University’s small master’s in public health program rose 75%, according to Annie Gjelsvik, a professor and director of the program.Demand was so high as the pandemic hit full force in the spring that Brown extended its application deadline by over a month. Seventy students ultimately matriculated this fall, up from 41 last year.“People interested in public health are interested in solving complex problems,” Gjelsvik said. “The COVID pandemic is a complex issue that’s in the forefront every day.”It’s too early to say whether the jump in interest in public health programs is specific to that field or reflects a broader surge of interest in graduate programs in general, according to those who track graduate school admissions. Factors such as pandemic-related deferrals and disruptions in international student admissions make it difficult to compare programs across the board.Magnolia E. Hernández, an assistant dean at Florida International University’s Robert Stempel College of Public Health and Social Work, said new student enrollments in its master’s in public health program grew 63% from last year. The school has especially seen an uptick in interest among Black students, from 21% of newly admitted students last fall to 26.8% this year.Kelsie Campbell is one of them. She’s part Jamaican and part British. When she heard in both the British and American media that Black and ethnic minorities were being disproportionately hurt by the pandemic, she wanted to focus on why.“Why is the Black community being impacted disproportionately by the pandemic? Why is that happening?” Campbell asked. “I want to be able to come to you and say, ‘This is happening. These are the numbers and this is what we’re going to do.’”The biochemistry major at Florida International said she plans to explore that when she begins her MPH program at Stempel College in the spring. She said she hopes to eventually put her public health degree to work helping her own community.“There’s power in having people from your community in high places, somebody to fight for you, somebody to be your voice,” she said.Public health students are already working on the front lines of the nation’s pandemic response in many locations. Students at Brown’s public health program, for example, are crunching infection data and tracing the spread of the disease for the Rhode Island Department of Health.Some students who had planned to work in public health shifted their focus as they watched the devastation of COVID-19 in their communities. In college, Emilie Saksvig, 23, double-majored in civil engineering and public health. She was supposed to start working this year as a Peace Corps volunteer to help with water infrastructure in Kenya. She had dreamed of working overseas on global public health.The pandemic forced her to cancel those plans, and she decided instead to pursue a master’s degree in public health at Emory University.“The pandemic has made it so that it is apparent that the United States needs a lot of help, too,” she said. “It changed the direction of where I wanted to go.”These students are entering a field that faced serious challenges even before the pandemic exposed the strains on the underfunded patchwork of state and local public health departments. An analysis by The Associated Press and Kaiser Health News found that since 2010, per capita spending for state public health departments has dropped by 16%, and for local health departments by 18%. At least 38,000 state and local public health jobs have disappeared since the 2008 recession.And the workforce is aging: Forty-two percent of governmental public health workers are over 50, according to the de Beaumont Foundation, and the field has high turnover. Before the pandemic, nearly half of public health workers said they planned to retire or leave their organizations for other reasons in the next five years. Poor pay topped the list of reasons. Some public health workers are paid so little that they qualify for public aid.Brian Castrucci, CEO of the de Beaumont Foundation, which advocates for public health, said government public health jobs need to be a “destination job” for top graduates of public health schools.“If we aren’t going after the best and the brightest, it means that the best and the brightest aren’t protecting our nation from those threats that can, clearly, not only devastate from a human perspective, but from an economic perspective,” Castrucci said.The pandemic put that already stressed public health workforce in the middle of what became a pitched political battle over how to contain the disease. As public health officials recommended closing businesses and requiring people to wear masks, many, including Dr. Anthony Fauci, the U.S. government’s top virus expert, faced threats and political reprisals, AP and KHN found. Many were pushed out of their jobs. An ongoing count by AP/KHN has found that more than 100 public health leaders in dozens of states have retired, quit or been fired since April.Those threats have had the effect of crystallizing for students the importance of their work, said Patricia Pittman, a professor of health policy and management at George Washington University’s Milken Institute School of Public Health.“Our students have been both indignant and also energized by what it means to become a public health professional,” Pittman said. “Indignant because many of the local and the national leaders who are trying to make recommendations around public health practices were being mistreated. And proud because they know that they are going to be part of that frontline public health workforce that has not always gotten the respect that it deserves.”Saksvig compared public health workers to law enforcement in the way they both have responsibility for enforcing rules that can alter people’s lives.“I feel like before the coronavirus, a lot of people didn’t really pay attention to public health,” she said. “Especially now when something like a pandemic is happening, public health people are just on the forefront of everything.”___KHN Midwest correspondent Lauren Weber and KHN senior correspondent Anna Maria Barry-Jester contributed to this report.___This story is a collaboration between The Associated Press and Kaiser Health News, which is a nonprofit news service covering health issues. It is an editorially independent program of the Kaiser Family Foundation. KHN is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente. 7795

As we inch toward another national election, it may seem that bridging social, economic and political division is insurmountable. But one artist has spent years bringing people together with a message of reconciliation.Rich Alapack is the founder of “We All Live Here”, a project that aims to build unity through community partnerships and public art installations.For the last five years, he’s been spreading his message of positivity and inclusiveness through interactive murals.He’s brought together students, educators and businesses to spread the message that “we all live here.”“Income equality, gender equality, racial equality, sexual equality, the environment, all fall under the umbrella of these four really simple words,” explained Alapack.When he first began his work, he was surprised at how much the phrase resonated.“I started getting messages from people all over the world encouraging me to keep spreading this message,” he said.He created a program for schools called ACT, which stands for art, community and technology. So far, he’s worked with 110 different schools and shared the message of positive inclusiveness with almost 40,000 kids.“With this division that's happening in our society these days, you can't tell someone that they're wrong and expect them to change their mind,” said Alapack. “So, this phrase ‘we all live here’ as a phrase to respond when they hear something hateful.”Seven thousand colorful magnetic panels outside one school mural he installed will eventually have messages scribbled on the underside by eighth-graders.“Believe in yourself, and you can do it,” read Alapack from one panel.A two-year study released this past summer by Beyond Conflict, tapped brain and behavioral scientists to look at toxic polarization in the U.S. What they found suggests that the divide is more a function of perception than reality.It’s something Alapack believes we can change.“It's indisputable. We do all live here, and so, from there you can find other common grounds and repair maybe some of this divide,” he said.And whether through chalk, paint or magnetic panels, Alapack says he hopes creativity and engagement will inspire others to look beyond differences to find understanding.“Creativity is this unique superpower that humans have, and if you can get someone to do something that they don't think they can, then all of a sudden that opens their horizons to what other things they might be able to do that they don’t think they can do.” 2490

As someone who once criticized President Barack Obama for offering public timelines on American military engagement overseas, US President Donald Trump may have backed himself into a corner following his own promise to respond, and respond harshly, to the deadly chemical attacks in Syria.Last week he declared he wanted to withdraw US troops from Syria as soon as possible. But the suspected use of chemical weapons in Syria over the weekend may force him to reevaluate the US mission in that country.Vowing on Monday to come to a decision "over the next 24 to 48 hours" on how to make Syria pay a "big price," Trump's White House now appears to be scrambling to match its policy to his words.Trump tweeted Wednesday that missiles "are coming" in response to a threat from Russia to shoot down missiles coming into Syria.  836

来源：资阳报