Nupitals

C. is his name. He's a short, balding man in his 40's, full of energy. He's been working at the condo for the last 8 years. He moved here from Wisconsin after he was "saved" by the Pentecostal church.

He lives 30 miles away in the country with his wife, who has a rare form of cancer that will eventually slowly kill her. So rare is the cancer that C. and his wife had to travel all the way to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota because no one here could diagnose it. Here, they just wrote her off as crazy.

His son is getting married at the age of 20 in a few weeks. Weddings in C.'s family are a big affair. His wedding had over 250 guests, and his son's will have over 500 (basically the sum of two separate congregations and 100 family members). As such, C.'s family is in charge of the wedding shower. The big hangup now are the name tags that designate where the guests will be seated.

C. is a man of many talents, but computers are not one of them. But he's learning fast. A few weeks ago I taught him how to write formulas in Excel. He now manages the condo's check book and credit card with the program.

But tonight was a more difficult challenge. The name tags (not exactly tags, but pieces of paper that are folded in half and sit on a table) had to be exactly 5.5 by 8.5 inches, with the name printed in a certain font and in the exact right place. Microsoft Word just wasn't designed to do such things. An hour and a half later, we finally figured out how to make it work.

His next project will be to get hundreds of water bottles, carefully remove the labels, and then apply customized labels bearing his family name.



This is such a different conception of marriage from my own. I view marriage as a formality, merely confirming what already exists. And if you're confirming what already exists, what's the point? Do you need a ceremony to confirm that you love each other? To show the world that you're committed? Does anything real actually change afterwards? Britney Spear's 55 hour marriage is sacrosanct?

There is no need for pomp and circumstance. There's no need to invite hundreds of people, who come only for the free food and booze. After all, it's just a piece of paper. What's real and important lies far, far beneath that.

A Night in the ER

Ten o'clock. I wasn't there for ten minutes until I heard a call on the radio. A helicopter was on the way. Major trauma. 15 year old kid riding his bicycle, hit by truck going 50-60 mph. Found him at the scene unresponsive. The nurses in the helicopter had already given him all the blood they had on board, and his blood pressure is still dropping fast.

They call the "trauma team." I counted 17 people in the room getting everything ready. Emergency doctors, trauma surgeons, an anaesthesiologist, nurses, a radiographer. The resident I'm with is in charge of managing the patient's airway. Everyone, including me, wears what amounts to a blue trash bag and face shield.

There's a tv in the ER that monitors the helipad, and another that monitors the dedicated elevators. We see a light appear on the helipad, the helicopter swoop down, the stretcher rushed to the elevator.

They wheel him into the room. 10 people simultaneously pounce on him in perfect synchrony, inserting needles into his groin, arms, legs - any place they can pump more fluid into him. The team leader stands at the foot of the bed directing everything. They examine every inch of him. The kid has a tube down his throat, another in his lungs. A nurse breathes for him with a squeeze bag. They give him medicines to relieve pain, to paralyze his muscles, and to increase blood pressure. Every drug is loudly called out after it's given. I look sheepishly from the corner of the room, and start to feel light-headed. I have to leave the room and sit down.

After 15 minutes, he's no longer actively dying. They quickly wheel him to the CT scanner with a nurse chasing after him, holding all the bags of fluid above him.

The table moves back and forth, passing the kid's limp body through what looks to be a giant donut. Within three minutes, I'm looking at a reconstruction of his entire body, slice by slice. We can see the full extent of his injuries - broken everything. Broken neck. Lung, liver, and spleen contusions. Broken ribs. Damaged major lung blood vessel. Shattered pelvis. Broken femur, etc. No wonder he's bleeding so quickly. Head looks ok though. I silently wonder if he was wearing a helmet.

They prepare an OR. The surgeons will be working late tonight.

Long Hunter State Park

I took the dog to a park by Percy Priest Lake today. It was a good day for it - tee-shirt weather in late November. We walked 8 or so miles, seeing only one other pserson the entire time. Mid-way through, my parents called from Key West, Florida, where their cruise ship was docked for the night. They'll return to Miami tomorrow and start driving back home.

I think I'll spend tonight in the Emergency Room with my friend Kam. There's always interesting stuff to see on Friday night there.

Telephone poles at dusk

Dr. F., as I shall refer to her, is rather uptight about some things. She has very strict rules on days that she brings patients to class (all common sense, I might add).

Rule #1: Do NOT arrive late. If you do, that's fine, just go and sit in the projector booth in the back of the classroom so you don't disturb everyone when you enter.

Rule #2: Do NOT eat food in your seat. Eating a Big Breakfast from McDonalds might seem disrespectful as a patient describes how his life was ruined.

Rule #3: Do NOT wear shorts to class. Looking like you just came from the beach is not a good idea.

Today we had a lecture about diabetes. Dr. F. brought one of her patients to class (an 11 year old boy and his mother), and he told us about his disease, how he was diagnosed at 2, how he checks his blood sugar 4-5 times a day, etc.

The day before, Dr. F. sent us all an email reminding us of the patient presentation, and of the rules. Right before class, she reminded us again about not eating.

About 15 minutes into the class, Veronica walked into the classroom, loudly opening the doors. She sat down, ruffled through her bag, pulled out a bunch of food, and started to eat it. I kind of wish it had been summer so Veronica would have completed the triad.

Dr. F. Looked like her head would explode. She walked behind the patient (so he couldn't see her) and pointed towards Veronica, shaking her outstreached index finger as she mouthed "Put it away! Put it away NOW!"

One classmate later described this as the scene in Indiana Jones where you look into the gates of hell and simply incinerate.

After class Dr. F. Pulled Veronica aside, and it wasn't pretty.

I didn't feel bad for Veronica for being a dumbass until I saw her crying four hours afterwards.



I find the black and white image creepy, yet beautiful for some reason.

Shot through a Celestron C90 1000mm f11 lens. The poles are at least a quarter mile away.

Moon

This is what the moon looked like tonight, through a 2000 mm lens.

Cleaning the oven

While baking the turkey last Friday, I spilled a ton of grease in the oven. Fortunately the oven has a self-clean mode where it heats up and burns up everything inside. There's a little vent on top where the smoke comes out.

A little drop

I took the dog for a walk in the park again today. We did the red trail, which is about six miles long. I let him run without the leash (mainly because he chewed the thing into two pieces). Sometimes I wonder what goes through his head. He sniffs everything, and then urinates on every prominent tree he passes. He pees only a few drops at a time, spreading his urine over the maximum number of trees possible.

We passed by a waterfall. I got close and got this picture of a single drop of water falling.

Day after Thanksgiving

I went to the store today and found an irresistable deal. A 23 pound turkey for only 30 cents a pound. That's less than $7.00 for something that will feed me for at least a week. It's in the oven as I write this. Smells delicious. In the future, my Thanksgiving dinner will be held exactly one day late - when the turkeys go on sale.

On the roof today, the sun was setting in one direction, and the full moon was rising in the other direction.

My Bear

I took Bear for a walk in the park today - a three hour walk. He pulls me up the hills, and also down. A good way to spend Thanksgiving.

He's seven years old now. Time flies. I still remember how he chewed up every hose and extension cord in the house as a puppy. And how he got run over by a car. And how we found him that night, wimpering under a bush. And how we drove him to Knoxville that night so he could get his broken hip pinned back together.

Pictures after the storm

A month ago, I bought a giant sack of potatoes for only three bucks on sale. I ate five of them, leaving about 20 that were getting moldy. Really moldy. I was shoving them down the disposal as fast as I could when one jammed, the disposal ground (har har...) to a halt, and smoke started coming from under the sink. So tonight I'll be bolting in a new one. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?

It rained hard for a few hours today, but after the storm was over, I lugged the camera + tripod to the roof and got off a few shots.




A tree at MBA.

Top of telephone pole across the street.

Walk in the park

Today was beautiful, so I went to walk the trails in Percy Warner park, just a few miles from my condo, camera in hand. It's getting to be peak leaf season. Click on picture for full resolution.

Night shot from the condo

Just playing around with the camera. 20 sec. ASA 200. F 11. 18 mm lens.

Neurological exam and a sunset

We learned how to do neurological examinations today. The doctor forgot her ophthalmoscope, so she asked if anyone in the class could lend her one. I waved mine in the air, and brought it down to her.

Apparently this also meant that I was volunteering to be the demonstration subject. So for the next hour and a half, I was poked and prodded in front of the class.

Follow my finger with your eyes. Close your eyes really tightly. Smile as big as you can. Stick out your tongue. Wiggle your tongue back and forth. Say ahhhhh. Do you feel this pin as I poke different parts of your body? Shrug your shoulders. Wow, you have great muscle tone. You must work out. (Class laughs) This is how you check reflexes. You have beautiful reflexes. (more laughter) Now walk over there and come back. See how beautiful that turn is, class? A perfectly normal walk. (I consciously tried not to bounce as I tend to do.) And it went on...

If you're good at it, you can do a full neurological exam in under five minutes, briskly moving from one test to another. It's amazing to see the neurologists do it like brushing their teeth. Almost without the need for conscious thought.

I drove back home in the evening, and went to the roof of the condo to get some shots of the sunset. Click for bigger pictures.

IM UPDATE:

PF: she's was sooo into you

PF: i guess she's doesn't get to evaluate young guys much

PF: it was cracking us all up

james37027: all I wanted to do was lend her my ophthalmoscope

PF: she's like, "james, you're so toned. i can picture you working out..."

james37027: hahaha

PF: hahahah.so good.

PF: she was playing doctor with you

PF: mmm, his deltoids are so defined

james37027: ha

PF: well for better or worse she made all the girls in the class wonder what your arms felt like.

james37027: really...?

PF: we were talking about it after class

james37027: they are pretty ripped, I must say

PF: good to know. keep it up. as much as girls don't admit it, we love that stuff

Ride today

Today was beautiful. Mid 60's and sunny. I had lunch with Alan, and then went for a ride with C.

C. is my new riding buddy. She is a former runner who has discovered the low-impact wonderfullness of bicycles (three knee surgeries later at the age of 23).

She is now incredibly fast. Like really incredible. Especially up hills. She simply dances on the pedals, all 120 pounds of her. And on a steep uphill, I'm working really hard to stay with her. If I really try hard, I can still pull ahead, but this is damn impressive, especially for someone only riding for a few months.

I can still make up huge distances on her down hills, where she still has the habit of braking to keep from going too fast, and my 205 pounds pulls me down quicker.

Today we meant to do only 30 miles, but I got us lost, so we did close to 40.

Condo Association Meeting

A few weeks ago we had our annual condo homeowner's association meeting.

I arrived neatly dressed, since I was the youngest one there by about 25 years and wanted to appear not too unlike the residents. Scott, the association president, called the meeting to order.

A brief word on Scott. He lives directly below me. Occasionally he will go out on his balcony and smoke, and if I have my window open, I can smell it. He started a computer company in the early 90's, made a TON of money, and then retired before the age of 40. Now he does a lot of charity work. He is on the board of directors of several organizations in Nashville, including Nashville CARES (raises money for AIDS), as well as a charity for the homeless and an organization that helps people suffering from substance abuse. That's all I know about so far.

When "new business" was brought up, my neighbor Kevin proposed allowing pets in the building. Apparently we are only one of two condos in Nashville that do not allow pets, and allowing pets will add approximately 20% to the value of a condo.

This proposal caused the "old timers" of the building to go ballistic. And not in a nice way. Scott, to his credit, maintained order.

Man: "Wait! This is crap! Think that....."
Scott: "As association president, I will determine the order of who speaks. Please wait until I call on you."

BS story from old woman: "My friend lives at a condo that allows pets. This woman had a dog, and when she got on the elevator with the dog, the dog's leash got caught in the door. The dog's head got pulled off, and there was blood everywhere! Is that what we want here?"

Man: "Kevin just wants to get this passed so he can sell his place and leave us in piles of dog poop!"

And so it went on.

I stated my desire to allow pets, and even tried to force the measure to a vote, but Kevin (wisely) decided to withdraw the proposal in the face of such ardent opposition. Maybe next year...

My proposal to change the lights to compact fluorescents was warmly received, helped no doubt by the significant amount of money that the association would save per year. So now at least some of the lights will be changed to fluorescents.

Lawnchair sudy

My Adirondack chair in late afternoon. Best light I've seen in a long while.

Fen Ditton part 2

My friend finally had to go to class, so I walked to Fen Ditton by myself, about a six mile round trip.


I found this old church. I walked all around it and didn't see a soul.

Just some old gravestones.

It would be cool if this picture were from the church, but it's from a pub that I passed by on the way home.

Fen Ditton

Today we walked along the river to a nearby town, Fen Ditton. The morning started out on the cool side, but then the sun broke through the clouds, and it was perfect walking weather.



The swans are beautiful. (click on the images for their full gory. This may be the best picture I've ever taken.) I understand the necks. And the webbed feet. But what selective pressure would cause them to be as white as new snow? (it doesn't snow here much).

I decided to get friendly with the swan pictured below. Like petting a cat... I kneeled down by the river, camera in hand, and extended my finger. The swan swam up and BIT it, thinking that it was a bit of food. Thankfully their teeth aren't too sharp. I actually thought it was kind of an honor to be bitten by something so beautiful.


We also walked by a several heards of cows. Apparently in England you can have your cows graze on any public lands. They were quite friendly, and did not mind my petting them in the least.



And the culmination of our walk was lunch at a riverside pub/strangely posh restaurant, watching the row-boats and swans go past.

Grantchester part 2

Apparently one trip to Grantchester is not enough, so we went there again the next day, walking this time. On the way, the colleges were having a cross-country race by the river. Scores of exhausted-looking people walked and ran past us.


This time we actually got to go into the pub, which was bustling with people (on Sunday).

Grantchester

Yesterday we rented a canoe to explore the river on the way to Grantchester, about two miles away. We arrived at the town, but couldn't find any way to tie up the canoe. So my friend went to the pub, got three different beers in plastic cups, and we had an in-canoe picnic on the way back to Cambridge.

Schopenhauer

Arthur Schopenhauer, The Art of Controversy

When we come to look into the matter, so-called universal opinion is the opinion of two or three persons; and we should be persuaded of this if we could see the way in which it really arises.

We should find that it is two or three persons who, in the first instance, accepted it, or advanced and maintained it; and of whom people were so good as to believe that they had thoroughly tested it. Then a few other persons, persuaded beforehand that the first were men of the requisite capacity, also accepted the opinion. These, again, were trusted by many others, whose laziness suggested to them that it was better to believe at once, than to go through the troublesome task of testing the matter for themselves. Thus the number of these lazy and credulous adherents grew from day to day; for the opinion had no sooner obtained a fair measure of support than its further supporters attributed this to the fact that the opinion could only have obtained it by the cogency of its arguments. The remainder were then compelled to grant what was universally granted, so as not to pass for unruly persons who resisted opinions which every one accepted, or pert fellows who thought themselves cleverer than any one else.

When opinion reaches this stage, adhesion becomes a duty; and henceforward the few who are capable of forming a judgment hold their peace. Those who venture to speak are such as are entirely incapable of forming any opinions or any judgment of their own, being merely the echo of others’ opinions; and, nevertheless, they defend them with all the greater zeal and intolerance. For what they hate in people who think differently is not so much the different opinions which they profess, as the presumption of wanting to form their own judgment; a presumption of which they themselves are never guilty, as they are very well aware. In short, there are very few who can think, but every man wants to have an opinion; and what remains but to take it ready-made from others, instead of forming opinions for himself?

Since this is what happens, where is the value of the opinion even of a hundred millions? It is no more established than an historical fact reported by a hundred chroniclers who can be proved to have plagiarized it from one another; the opinion in the end being traceable to a single individual.

Quite interesting, I think. I too am guilty of recycling the ideas of others.

In the end, the "norms" must be ceaselessly questioned relative to the evidence at hand. It is evidence and reason, not superstition or faith, that must guide our evaluation of truth.

Do not simply guide your actions from the distilled opinions of others. Form your own from the raw evidence. Look through an impassionate and objective lens.

What you have been taught since birth and what you currently believe may be only a manifestation of others' ideas - not your own. So think, where is the preponderance of the evidence? Is global warming happening? Is evolution real? Sticking your head in the sand and relying on the opinions of others is an insult to your innate intelligence. Review the evidence for yourself.

Brain exam

I just finished my Neuroscience exam. I think I did really well, mostly because of my new study partner.

Kam is from Kentucky. He went to UVA and majored in economics. We've been friends since the beginning of school, but we've only recently begun studying together. We take turns going to each other's places, although today we studied together in the library.

Kam's parents own a restaurant in Kentucky, "Great Wall." So Kam loves to cook. Stews are his favorite. The other day, he put a pork scapula in a pot with some greens, and then sprinkled in a little MSG. "Adds to the flavor," he says. Two hours later, he poured the stew over some rice and had dinner. I politely declined, saying that I had already eaten.

Kam is a die-hard Kentucky basketball fan. Two nights ago, Kentucky had it's first day of official practice.

Who cares, you ask? Well, 25,000 people filled the stadium to watch. It was a huge media production, and Kam and I watched it on TV. Apparently even the first practice is a big deal in Lexington.

Radnor Lake

The weather here has been beautiful lately. High in the mid 70's, partly cloudy.

In the last few months I've been biking more and more with C, a girl in my class. She recently got a road bike because her knees are shot from running so much (she's had several surgeries to try to correct the problem). At first she was pretty slow, getting used to riding. After just a few months, she's become much more comfortable and confidant on the bike. She climbs about as well as I do, and on the flats, I break the wind while she drafts behind me.

We ride about three times a week. Mostly in the park, but recently we've been venturing further. The last ride we did was well over 30 miles, all the way to Radnor Lake and back (generic picture of the lake attached).

Gustav Klimt

I just got a poster of Gustav Klimt's "The Kiss." I don't know what it is about this painting that makes me want to stare at it for hours.

Maybe it's the way that the two bodies blend into one. The way snow falls in the background. The masculine squares on the left versus the feminine circles on the right. And how bright and beautiful and golden the moment is.

Contest

A radio station in town is having a contest of who the sexiest medical professional is. Several people in my class have submitted entries. I'll bet this guy, Dan, a former pro body builder, wins.

Sandy

About a week ago, Sandy H. Came to pick up some stuff that his sister had left with me. Namely a bunch of mason jars, a few books, and two wooden xylophones that he had made years earlier.

He arrived in his usual beat-up pickup, complete with the plethora of bumper stickers on the back. He was wearing on old tie-dyed tee-shirt; I don't remember what it said on the front.

Sandy lives in the hills of eastern Tennessee. There, he works as a carpenter, waiting for capitalism to self-destruct.

He comes to Nashville from time to time. He brought me a pumpkin (or squash, I can't tell which). I put it in the oven, and it was good.

We talked for a long time on my porch. About almost everything. Economics, diet, asthma.

He's a remarkably intelligent and likable person, much like his sister.

I hope he comes by again.