The world of the myope is often a nicer place—faces lack wrinkles, and trees seem to be painted by Monet. Then, during a visit to Moscow, a black spot appears.
It begins as a dull ache, then the skull becomes hot and brittle, then the neck stiffens—and then there’s no escaping a migraine. A search for relief, temporary or otherwise.
Incidentally, I happen to have a cold, which is apparently much less interesting to the New York Times. What is interesting, however, is this collection of five wonderful pieces about...
The NFL is an emperor with no clothes, no morals, and vaults of gold. As we prepare for Super Bowl XLVII, author Dave Zirin explains how greed and corruption have ruined the game, endangered players, and fleeced the public.
A mouth guard can do more than save our enamel from nighttime gnashing. It may also shield us from our daily anxieties.
Musical therapists can improve patients’ cognitive functioning and motor skills. But sometimes the battle is to keep a mind intact. Avant-garde composition and EKG techno in a London care center.
When a voiceover artist temporarily loses the use of her primary asset, the struggle back to speaking unearths what’s gone unsaid for too long.
Imperceptibly and without warning, your pulse accelerates, your mind races, and panic grips your body—for anxiety attack sufferers, every day is a case in survival. A journey to the wild to confront the fear.
A post-World War II documentary, banned by the military in 1946 but lately released online, is one of the earliest depictions of psychotherapy. But it says even more about contemporary Americans’ interest in the veterans they love to praise.
For decades, the U.S. government banned medical studies of the effects of LSD. But for one longtime, elite researcher, the promise of mind-blowing revelations was just too tempting.
In our latest TMN Weekender, a selection of stories from the intersection of health, employment, insurance, and legislation. Ready to read here on TMN or in an e-book you can...
The next time jet lag ruins your day—exhausted, yawning, blurry-eyed, fiending for any means of correction—what if you were to stop looking for a cure inside purgatory and, instead, embrace the cloud?