Why Can't The English!

Henry Higgins from the Broadway musical, "My Fair Lady", in today's culture, had to be the ultimate sexist, intolerant, intransigent man, if he were real. He was the product of George Bernard Shaw's play, "Pygmalion", from which the musical was based.  Higgins, however, struck some chord that even  his critics acknowledged the stinging wit, humor and social observations to be notably true in some sense. He was an equal opportunity disparager.  He was not xenophobic because as an Englishman he had some harsh words against the English, specifically those he considered misusers or "murderers" of proper English. Eliza Doolittle, the cockney-talking flower vendor became the title character of the play and musical that originally starred Julie Andrews on stage but later played by Audrey Hepburn in the movie version that won seven Oscars. Rex Harrison played Higgins in both and won Best Actor for his role.

 

In one of Higgins' soliloquies he said,

"An Englishman's way of speaking absolutely classifies him

The moment he talks he makes some other Englishman despise him"

Then he went on his diatribe,

"One common language I'm afraid we'll never get

Oh, why can't the English learn to

Set a good example to people whose

English is painful to your ears?

The Scots and the Irish leave you close to tears

And, of course, American English became one of his peeves,

"There even are places where English completely disappears

In America, they haven't used it for years"

He went on with his acerbic commentaries on  the other nationalities, 

Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?

Norwegians learn Norwegian

The Greeks are taught their Greek

Arabians learn Arabian with the speed of summer lightning.

And Hebrews learn it backwards,

which is absolutely frightening.

But use proper English you're regarded as a freak.

In France every Frenchman knows his language from "A" to "Zed"

The French never care what they do, actually, as long as they pronounce it properly

Again, if Higgins were real, hypothetically alive in the world we live in today, he might add along his observations that might run like this,

"There even are places where some will never care what they do, actually, for as long as they  pronoun it properly".

The state of Michigan passed House Bill 4474, awaiting the state senate vote, that will make misgendering a felony - calling somebody by the wrong pronoun.

"Under the bill—which makes it a hate crime for a person to threaten another by deliberately using the wrong pronouns with an intimidating purpose—offenders would be guilty "of a felony punishable by imprisonment for not more than 5 years, or by a fine of not more than $10,000."

This is not really a political item worthy of any serious discussion. It will likely pass and likely be signed into law by the governor.  We can leave it at that.  

Now, languages have always evolved over time, changing even along and across borders in the same country.  Soon, the evolution makes it possible for two distinct languages, not just dialects, to split  from one original language; Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, as examples. However, in the centuries that those occurred, the process took a very long time and often changed with the spontaneity that is not really directed intentionally, certainly not centrally from one focal point.  Usage by and convenience for the users of the language were the prime movers of change.  

Today's language is changing upon the direction of a few, clearly not by the majority, to enforce the changes according to a particular leaning. The direction of today's language evolution is contrived and enforced with potential jail and financial penalties that, for example, the proposed Michigan law will try to achieve.

There is no predicting what trajectory society will veer into but for the moment, one idea is to make words,  and ultimately language, as the backdrop upon which culture will be made to evolve a certain way.

The pluralized pronoun phenomenon may or may not prevail.  Civilizations developed, flourished and sustained primarily based on the culture adopted by the population. Culture to mean language, social  mores, sets of laws and basic moral and ethical standards.  If the changes result in a cohesive society, civilization will continue to flourish. If, however, the population splits along a major disagreement among the people, in terms of a general cultural schism, that civilization will weaken and erode from within.  That is when another, from the outside, can and will take over.  That had been the cycle of humanity's histories for thousands of years.

Historians of the future will debate this. Today, we are charged with a profound duty to make a choice on what trajectory today's society must take. It is up to the living right now to shape the world of those who are yet to  be born and live at some time in the future.  What future inhabitants of this planet will look back to are the choices we make today.

  

The Price Is Almost Always Right Every Time

A very popular TV game show debuted in the fall of 1972. "The Price Is Right" still airs today. Contestants are picked randomly from the audience. One by one the lucky person gets beckoned by the host with the now iconic invitation to, "Come on down!" to the stage. To advance, each contestant must guess the price of the chosen item without exceeding the actual value. The aim for each contestant is to keep going to stay in the game until the chance to win a prize or ultimately win the big prize.

In life though, we are told, "there is a price for everything".  My favorite universal expression, whether viewed  sociologically, politically, philosophically or even  scientifically, is that "there is no such thing as a free lunch".  From the micro to the macro world, the "free lunch" is a myth.

The cheese on a mouse trap is the ultimate "not-so-free-lunch" for the hapless rodent. Wild boars and deer find out that feeders make them as vulnerable as fish in a barrel. But, one may observe that whether in the savannah or the rivers' edge, even high up in the sky, predators get their lunch all the time.  Yes, but not always - sometimes with a success rate that is as low as 15%  - and they have to work for it. And it is never a cake walk for any of them to catch their prey. There is always the potential for injury, sometimes even death as they pursue their prey.  

Prey or grazing animals, on the other hand, seem to get their lunch the easy way, if not so freely.  For example, we see deer, wildebeests, zebras, etc. get their food that  are not able to flee.  They're just there on the ground or low lying branches.  Is that not the ultimate free lunch?

Well, grass and leafy greens come at a price.  Each grazing animal must eat a lot of it to get the proper amount of nutrition and energy; often spending almost all their waking hours grazing, often head down, which makes them vulnerable.  Others spent additional time chewing cud because digesting grass and leaves need the extra work. What prey animals do is essentially convert grass and leaves into protein, fat  and carbohydrates into chunks of meat that predators dine on.  That is the ecosystem.  Maintaining that balance comes with a price.

Today, everywhere we look, that balance scale defines  everything to make it just right. Upset that balance and the ecosystem breaks down.

Sociologically, it is the same thing. The student who strives the hardest gets to collect what he or she paid the price for. To be valedictorian, top of the class, does not come easy. It comes with a price.  Those who only study so much, or others who do the minimum, or even none at all, make up the rest of the curve.  That ecosystem defines the path of each graduating class.

Our sun has for billions of years now been providing energy endlessly, or so it seems.  But again, at a price. It lights up the entire solar system, warms our planet, causes winds and hurricanes, charges solar panels but at what price?  It has been losing chunks of its mass at the rate of 4 million tons per second for the last 4 billion years now.  Ultimately, it will lose so much that by that time, the solar system shall be no more.  So far, we and everything in the solar system have been having our cake and eating it too. But that free lunch has a finite ending, albeit for another 2-3 billion years more. There is little we can do about this and it is even infinitely little to worry about it. 

Meanwhile, in a single and finite lifetime, there is this to ponder. One may make the right decisions; may do good things; may live a just  life or one may do the opposite of all of those.  There is a prize for the former and there is a price for the latter. In one belief system the price may come either abruptly or at some later time, often appropriately or slightly more costly. From that belief system came  the word, "karma".  Originally though, the word applied to mean a "prize" for a good deed or a price one pays for a misdeed.  Now it is mainly used to define the price for doing the wrong thing.

Centuries ago in his letters to the Romans, (KJV, Romans 6:24), Paul declared, "For the wages of sin is death .."  We will leave it at that but suffice it to say that across all cultures, philosophies and belief systems, humanity has always come to terms with the price for misdeeds. But we are generally hopeful. And so we also believe in, "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works .."  (Matthew 5:16, KJV). And so it is that we are presented with philosophical choices as well when we think beyond the physical.

Speaking of physical, biologically, the price for living longer is to grow old. Aches and pains and potential health issues are part of what we expect to pay for a lengthy life span.    You want to live long? The ticket  is punched by a ticking clock, the flipping of calendar pages, the rhythm of  the marching seasons going softer and softer until one can no longer hear it.  Such is the price. Such is the price to anyone willing to pay for it.

The good news is that we live at a time when the price of aging is getting cheaper, figuratively speaking for the most part; much too expensive for some of them, i.e. organ transplants, cancer treatments, etc. Modern medicine and health care  have greatly improved managing the problems of aging. We are living at an age when vision, hearing, blood pressure and diabetic issues, to name a few, can be managed and corrected effectively.

Today, we are reaping the fruits of centuries of development and breakthroughs in medicine and health care. The accumulation of knowledge, inventions and precision in diagnosis, procedures, and tools did not come without a price. But today, much of humanity is enjoying the prize. In a way, we share the benefits that countless scientists, researchers and developers, whose accumulated efforts and dedication, paid the  price for which so many Nobel prizes were given.  The connection between their efforts and the benefits we now enjoy is not trivial.

And it must come to this: paying the ultimate price.  The mouse that nibbled on the cheese paid the ultimate price but not without saving other mice.  Research has shown that for every mouse caught in a mouse trap there are at least a dozen or more mice that were spared. That mouse trap will not catch another mouse unless it is cleaned thoroughly because the dying mouse caught in it will likely have produced a "death scent" that will warn the others to be wary of the next free lunch.

On a human scale, we have first responders who paid the ultimate price to save others.  Our military's history is replete with heroic sacrifices that countless others may go on to live a little or a lot longer.  Such sacrifices paid the ultimate price to buy the prize of freedom. Many died so young, so that many more will grow up and grow old.

So, we pay the price for living longer but we must keep in mind that after every sunset, when we see another sunrise bookended by another sunset is another extra day that is worth paying for.

  

 

Through The Eyes See You

The play with words on ICU (Intensive Care Unit of the hospital) is not to extract humor on an otherwise somber and frightening experience when one must deal with a loved one admitted to any place of emergency care, but it is a  way to express my version of a comic relief from the experience because in the end it would be all just fine; albeit, the road ahead is lined with a series of home health care visits and physical therapy. 

My wife had to be transferred posthaste from the emergency unit of the hospital near where we live to the Texas Medical Center in Houston. Now, let me set that aside for the moment, although I will touch on it later, after I go through recounting a series of mis-adventured and miscued moments that, thankfully in retrospect, happened to me rather than at the ICU.  This is also an homage to the medical profession and those who over many decades had the vision to build the medical complex I will talk about in the coming paragraphs. 

The Texas Medical Center (TMC) is famous for being the largest medical complex in the world. In the early seventies, long before the concept of medical complexes began to develop in other countries, this was the place where the most challenging medical cases were flown in from all corners, and a frequent destination of rich patients particularly from oil rich countries (the 70s remember) for  their medical needs. Rare and obscure cases that were new to and of value to medical science, regardless of financial considerations, had a place in the research units of the hospitals as well. 

Today, TMC is even bigger and leads in medical breakthroughs - from cancer research to advances in medical procedures (organ transplants, microsurgery and the development of intricate medical devices, etc.).

It is huge. On a "given" day, the number of  hospital personnel (doctors, nurses, technicians, support staff from other services), patients and their relatives, hotel workers, etc., would  make for a small town or city. But if we base it on its energy needs, water and trash services, and the number of standby generators that are as ubiquitous as the industrial AC units on every building's rooftop, it would be a decent-size metropolis.

Hotels that are part of the landscape of this complex directly or peripherally around a 2-3 mile radius may have as many rooms as there are hospital beds, if not more so, because patients' families  from all over the USA  and  other countries need places to stay. The number for multi story garages have parking spaces equivalent to the parking lot of a large mall, or that of a major professional sports stadium.

Parking poses the first significant challenge to anyone who ventures into the TMC. I, who had been through here at least three times years ago, though at multi year intervals in between each visit, should know better. I still  didn't. And we live in the area.

I drove my car as my wife was taken by ambulance during the transfer.  I circled a couple of times to get to a parking garage. I turned into a succession of levels before getting a spot at Level 4 and felt lucky it was by the elevator. Level 4, R4, fortunately I thought, was easy to commit to memory, concluding that there were at least four different zones at Level 4. I got on the elevator and pressed 1. Moments later I felt it stopped but the door in front of me and where all the buttons I pressed didn't open.

I waited a few more seconds facing the door when I heard a voice, "May I help you sir?" I looked up to the top left corner of the elevator where I thought the source of the voice came from, which I assumed was a security camera.  I replied, "I'm trying to get out of this elevator but the door won't open"

Then I heard the same voice, "Sir, sir, why don't you turn around?" I did. The elevator was one of those that opened at one or the other side  depending on how it emptied into the particular floor.  I turned and there were 5 people looking at me waiting at the lobby.  Frustration quickly turned to embarrassment though now I think it was hilarious. Picture this: Five people watched the elevator open and saw a man with his back turned to them talking to the upper left corner of the elevator. They had stories to tell their friends that day.

One of the five gentlemen with a clipboard remained standing while the other four went into the elevator. He spoke to me politely, "What floor are you headed to, sir, and do you know the patient's name? I replied, "All I know is that my wife was taken by ambulance from St. Luke's at Sugar Land to be brought here".  He said, "Sir, this is M.D. Anderson Cancer Center.  She must have been brought to St. Luke's Baylor.  Not to worry, go out those glass doors and you'll see it". 

Embarrassed again, I headed to and went out the glass door. In the glare of the sun, a huge building emblazoned with St. Luke's Baylor on its façade was two blocks away. The temperature that day was 101 F, so the building might as well have been a mirage; the concrete crosswalk might as well have been the Sahara.  I just exaggerated but a state of mind is a state of mind.  

From the information desk of St. Luke's I was told to take the yellow elevator, 6th floor.  Elevators are color-coded! Through a labyrinth of seemingly endless hallways I went through blue, purple, then at last I got on the designated elevator, or so I thought. I got off the 6th floor and asked the person at the nurse station. I said, "I was told to go to the Dooley wing on the 6th floor.  She replied, "There is no Dooley wing in the hospital. Oh, did you mean the Cooley wing?"  Of course, it was  Denton Cooley the wing was named after.  Dr. Cooley was the  surgeon who implanted the first truly artificial heart in 1970.

As a side note,

"Cooley reportedly answered in the affirmative when a lawyer during a trial asked him if he considered himself to be the best heart surgeon in the world. 

Don't you think that's being rather immodest? the lawyer replied.

"Perhaps," Cooley responded. "But remember I'm under oath."

The nurse told me to go back down and take the yellow elevator.  "You were on the orange one". I did make it to the right wing and floor at last. Again, I will hold off for a few more while and I promise I will get to it because the condition my wife experienced which I will be describing could be of special interest to the readers.

It was almost 9:00 p.m. before I headed out for home.  The ICU has no accommodation for a bed for a relative to stay overnight. I was tired and  emotionally drained to find my way back to the dreaded "wrong" parking garage.  I took the elevator and pressed 1.  When it opened, it was not the lobby but a concrete hallway that was dusty and empty.  When I turned around, there was no call button for the elevator, except for a stenciled sign that said "NO Re-Entry". There were steel stairs up and down from the floor. I just then realized that it was the service elevator I just took. Going up the stairs, the floor was filled with broken beds and furniture. The door was locked. I was at the hospital's basement/repository of old and abandoned equipment and furniture. I retraced my steps and  went one more stairwell down.  There was a door with a push bar.  I pushed and it opened up.  I was looking down the edge of an elevated inclined hedge row of ivy, five feet above from the sidewalk.  I gingerly managed to get to the sidewalk to the astonishment of those walking by.  That was the side fire exit of the hospital's basement that I exited from.

Exhausted and worried about my wife, I barely managed to take a shower before hitting the bed. The ripened papaya at the kitchen counter that needed to be sliced before storing in the refrigerator had to wait another day.  Two Cornish hens that were thawing in the fridge will too have to wait their turn for a culinary disposition of my choice, later. Despite the trepidations around my wife's medical predicament I slept for six hours straight. I beat the alarm radio.  

The routinary habit kicked in. Two scoops of ground coffee into the coffee maker, then the right amount of water were poured into the side receptacle, then I went about preparing what I needed to take with me to the hospital.  I wanted to be there by 7:00 A,M. to beat the traffic.  The aroma of coffee was particularly strong as I was moving about. Then I knew why.  I forgot to put the coffee pot under. Coffee was not coming through the spring loaded drip spout but there was plenty of it overflowing the filter basket into the sides and spreading like an ink blot on the white Formica countertop.

It was a mess to clean up but I managed to brew another pot. I poured it carefully into a large insulated Yeti coffee mug. Checking to make sure the house was secured and making a point to see the garage door shut, I drove away.  A mile into the freeway, cruising through light traffic and feeling good about it , I instinctively reached for the mug at the usual cup holder when I realized it was still sitting at the kitchen counter at home.  Driving through the freeway sans coffee in the morning turned out to be a much calmer experience than I expected. I had to force myself to be calm because I knew the streak of mishaps had to stop smearing the day. The next few miscues  during the week were not too bad and no longer deserve any more attention.  But suffice it to say, whatever advances achieved through medical research, hospital cafeteria food remains pristinely untouched by any new development. Hospital food's advancement is decidedly frozen in time, unencumbered by even a hint of telltale progress. But, in defense of the hospital, any hospital, it is in the business of healing and not striving to be a gourmet provider.  Besides, often it is the least in the patients' list of aspirations anyhow.

My wife had been complaining of a sore throat for days. Three trips to the urgent care center (it was on Friday afternoon through the weekend) made indiscernible improvement.  On Wednesday morning, I called 911 because she complained about severe pain in her throat and she lost her speaking voice above a whisper.  The EMT folks came quickly but when her vital signs and EKG proved she was not having a heart attack or stroke, they recommended that we see  her doctor that morning right away. There was nothing they could do about her sore throat.

We were at the doctor's office at eight and by nine she decided my wife should be admitted to the hospital. St. Luke's at Sugar Land was seven minutes away.  We drove there ourselves. They took all the necessary procedures and checks and a shot of antibiotics. By early afternoon, the emergency doctor decided she should be taken by ambulance to the Texas Medical Center, St. Luke's Baylor.

I was shocked and concerned that the floor she was taken to was the Intensive Care Unit (named after Dr, Cooley). When I got to her room, she had plastic tubes to both her arms and an oxygen mask over her face.  I learned they were pumping massive amounts of antibiotics and steroids intravenously. Her neck was swollen red and tender to the touch. There was like half a baseball under her chin. The antibiotics and steroids were given to her every six hours.  

By the following day, the swelling dramatically subsided and the redness was gone.  The EENT doctor made regular visits, using a laryngoscope through my wife's nostrils into her throat to assess progress. 

After two days at the ICU, she was moved to the "step down" room at a different wing of the hospital. Remember the orange elevator?  That was  the first wing I went up to first by mistake.  Antibiotics continued plus a continued lower dosage of steroid.  To help with her breathing she was hooked to a nebulizer for seven minutes every four hours.

It was only later at discharge that we knew what it was she suffered from. It was acute epiglottitis. From one reading material I read that it was suspected to have caused the death of George Washington. Most of the reading material focuses on pediatric incidences and only rarely on adults. 

"Epiglottitis is the inflammation of the epiglottis—the flap at the base of the tongue that prevents food entering the trachea (windpipe). Symptoms are usually rapid in onset and include trouble swallowing which can result in drooling, changes to the voice, fever, and an increased breathing rate".

Put simply, the wonder of human physiology dictates that in breathing, the flap opens to let air through to the trachea, then to the lungs.  When swallowing liquid or food, the flap closes to direct both through the esophagus, then to the stomach.  The swelling from a bacterial infection causes all kinds of issues with the flap of tissue either not sealing properly or obstructing the trachea. It is mostly a pediatric ailment because that part in children may not yet have developed to the proper size (mostly larger at birth).

The decision by the doctors - first in sending her immediately for admission, then followed immediately by the quick transfer to the main facility at the TMC - was crucial. Of course, the nurses and doctors at the ICU knew just what to do and the hospital was well equipped with the necessary tools and medication.  I try to imagine what this would have been like in less developed countries.  Naturally, arriving at the proper diagnosis in the amount of time that it took was too very critical.

Follow up home health visits will ensure no re-infection or other complications to ensue, while physical therapy will help her regain the strength lost while bed-bound for six days, largely because of her age and Parkinson's. 

There is so much to be grateful all around. There was  science in one hand. But I must admit I felt the prayers of friends and family paved the path for the body's responses.

She was discharged on July 3, so we spent July 4th at home to watch the fireworks on TV.  That was the first time in almost two decades that we missed spending July 4th at a friend's home ( a high school classmate) whose family opens up their home and their backyard pool to watch the fireworks with friends every year, with plenty to eat from noon till late.

However, there was something very special that night of July 4, with just my wife and me. She still had no appetite so I didn't even attempt to prepare a sumptuous meal. I must say that was the best July 4th ever, for just the two of us  together with little festivities except what we inwardly felt deep inside - gratitude for God's benevolence and the advances made possible in the medical field at this particular time in  human history that we all live in.  

Our hopes, wishes and prayers go out to everyone from all corners of the world who at this moment is facing health challenges of any kind.

   

 

Are We Smarter Than An Amoeba?

As best we can, let's try to imagine fitting the entire universe into a small gymnasium. Inside that gym are a few trillions of molecules swirling every which way. I am obviously either exaggerating the "trillion" estimate or underestimating since I can't really know for sure as neither can scientists. The enormity of the number alone - a trillion is a thousand billion - is enough to cause a light mental conniption.

One of the molecules of air in that gym is our Milky Way galaxy. In it are an estimated 200 to 400 billion stars. One of those stars is a medium-size one that is our sun. Empty space predominates the entire volume of the gym (the universe, no kidding, is all space with a sprinkling of matter) keeping vast distances between galaxies, stars and planets, asteroids, gasses, etc.

If you have not yet grasped the insignificance of our own individual existence, think just a little bit more.

What humility we have can sometimes be overshadowed by hubris in how many ways we think we know about our world. C'est moi, who is guilty as charged, managed to just inoculate myself for crafting the previous sentence in acknowledgement of our human frailty. 

Even more humbling would be to drill further down into the human physiology. An average human body has anywhere from 30 to 40 trillion cells.  Scientists had to guess  that number at the same time that they need to account as well for the number of microbes that are either permanent residents or visiting migrants that go in and out of our system, at one time or another.

Not surprisingly, red blood cells in number make up 80 percent of our body; or, the reason the term life blood makes a lot of sense.  However, our red blood cells may be that numerous but they make up only about 4 percent of our body weight.

As tiny as our red blood cell is, a mere 8 micrometers or about a tenth of the thickness of a human hair, an amoeba is even smaller - 2 to 3 micrometers. It can easily enter our body to cause all kinds of mischief. So, in our human body "universe" unimaginably tiny stuff makes up everything that we are.  Behold, these tiny denizens individually have no clue what goes on in their world that is the human body. A single red blood cell has no idea about how the circulatory system works, every fat cell oblivious to how much it affects  the entire body. It cannot make an assessment of how much of them are just enough or how too much may not be good for the body's well being.

Here is the point of all of these.  Just recently, cosmologists crafted another updated theory on the state of the universe. More than a couple of hundred years ago Isaac Newton thought the universe was a static clockwork of a system. He was right for the most part because his Laws of Motion held and even effectively helped humanity's trip to and back from the moon.  Albert Einstein refined everything and proved Newton was wrong about how gravity worked, although old Albert held on to the static universe idea.  When confronted later by Edwin Hubble that the universe was expanding, Albert took his lumps.  He admitted that the universal constant he came up with was his biggest blunder to kind of fudge his calculations to make the static universe work.  Lately, cosmologists have theorized that the universe is expanding even faster than first thought. Then Albert may have been vindicated about his universal constant thing.  We probably have not heard the last theory. Why?

Let's go back to the gymnasium analogy from the first paragraph. Individually, each of us is one of almost 8 billion people on a planet orbiting an average star that is one of maybe 400 billion in a galaxy, that is that one molecule of air in the gymnasium. Every now and then someone will claim to explain what goes on in that gymnasium and even explain how it came about, how everything in it works, and how  the gymnasium will hold up over time.

Anyone of us, or a combination of many who have accumulated the vast knowledge put together so far, explaining the universe would be like a handful of amoeba trying to explain and understand the human body.  In fact, a colony of amoeba will know no more about why they caused so much discomfort when their presence caused the individual person to be sick as we would know why the universe is behaving the way it does.  We are therefore no smarter than an amoeba, in a manner of speaking. Oh, but yes, we've become smart and have even now come to a point when we are able to outsource and sort intelligence from some inanimate objects we call the computer chip.  

We've become very smart indeed. But never forget that we are one insignificant micro spec in a micro spec that is tinier than a molecule of air that is one of trillions inside a gymnasium that is mostly empty space.

Lastly, a colony of amoeba can effectively affect our physiology; our antibodies have better chances to make us well from a horde of pathogens than our dis-united political and sociological world can  lower the global temperature by 1.5 deg C.