Life as an Extreme Sport

Category: Academics

Classes and coursework.

validation

Academics, AMBI, Bioethics, University of Washington

I spent a while with my former adviser/mentor yesterday, and it was weird, and it was good. In some ways, I felt a sort of closure that I didn’t in June. He was honestly surprised I’d made it through everything grad school and the universe threw at me in my first 6 months, not because he thinks little of me, but because he thought it was simply too much to ask any one person to cope with. I reminded him that he told me, several years ago, after the death of one of my closest friends, that life never got easier – you were always juggling, and what counted was how well you juggled.

“I said that?” he said, very puzzled. “Yep.” “Well, it does sound like something I’d say, I’m just surprised I would have said that then…”

But the thing that he said that actually really, really meant a lot, was when we were in the car driving over to meet some other folks. I was telling him about the opportunities I have at work, and the people I’m working with, and some of the more general stuff I’ve been doing. He paused, and said he hoped I realized that for how bad the first bit was, I actually sounded like I was integrating in faster than most graduate students do when they make the move I did, and that what’s being offered and given to me, I should take as one of the greatest validations of, well, me, that I can get.

I admit to laughing it off and telling him that no, really, it’s just that they needed a warm body with at least part of a brain, and I managed to fill both those requirements, but he didn’t let me get away with it, and forced me to acknowledge that I do realize how lucky I am. But for him, it was more than that – he really did want me to see it as validation. I guess he’s still concerned about my confidence (or general lack of it). I think he was trying to say “see, CHID isn’t the only place that thinks you’re pretty cool.”

It all kind of ended abruptly, last year, rocky and rough and not…how I would have liked. And I think I finally got what I wanted, what I needed. I’m not sure I can articulate what that was, only that it was.

wait, will physical therapy help?

Academics, Bioethics

As we have already discussed, the AHA has released some truly mindbogglingly short-sighted recommendations on how to treat all chronic pain patients, which basically boils down to “what pharmaceutical options?” But I didn’t share the truly funny part about this last night, which is that earlier this month, a couple of gynecologists released the results of a small study suggesting that ibuprofen is ideal at treating dysmenhorea, more commonly known to people (okay, women) as extremely painful periods.

As I quipped to Daniel in email, this would appear to fall under the AHA guidelines for a chronic pain being improperly treated. Perhaps these women should try physical therapy, instead.

Less tongue-in-cheek, these two articles actually highlight a large issue that surrounds the whole notion of doing studies and releasing results in the first place. There is often very little coordination between different organizations, which leads to a mismatch of recommendations that end up leaving the average patient very confused (and frankly, sometimes I wonder about the average doctor, too). This is a larger scale example of the same thing that can affect patients who see multiple physicians: poor communication leads to contradictory, conflicting, and at times dangerous treatment combinations.

We have got to start working together and reaching across disciplinary boundaries to expand our knowledge, rather than staying within our insulated worlds and not considering how our professional words and actions are going to impact others.

one augmented human

...and everything else, 2004, Academics, Autumn 04, CHID 370, University of Washington

Laurie is my goddess. She overnighted me both my copy of Microsoft Office, and my backup discs of writing. I now have a large chunk of my life back on my computer, that has been missing since the hard drive was wiped in December.

I’m in the process of reorganizing how I store my documents, and organize the data in those folders. And in that process of reorganizing, I came across this paper, written several years ago for a cultural communication/technology class taught by the guy who went on to become my adviser. It’s interesting to read it again, going on three years after writing it, and see how much and how little my writing has changed.

there are times when it’s not a good idea to be awake

Academics, Bioethics, Duct Tape and Prayers

It’s 3:00pm, approximately, on a Sunday afternoon. I have been awake close to 11 hours at this point. Perhaps it is no surprise that I am, in a word, cranky.

My arm is killing me. Another not big surprise, since I’ve probably done more sustained writing, reading and typing in the last two weeks than I have in the last year. Normally, I’m at least semi-sane at pacing myself. But I really outdid myself with stupid, especially the last couple of days. This does not make the cranky any better. In fact, it makes it worse.

I would make a crack about being driven to drink – Blogger alone has given me a massive headache – except that the reality is, I’m going to have to drive myself to the store to get alcohol, and the only option in Oregon on a Sunday is beer or wine. (I’d really like to find a nice bottle of vodka, and some tasty flavoured liquor to spike it with. But no, Oregon has to have the most asinine liquor laws in the nation.)

So instead I’m going to do what any sane person in my position would do. Remove the cat from laying across said fubar’d arm, dose myself with the various painkillers I have on hand, turn off email, crawl under a blanket, and forget the world outside my room exists.

to boldly go

...and everything else, Academics, Bioethics

I’ve had jobs that are there to just pay the bills. I had an entire career that, like most of the dotcom employees, I fell into sideways, and stayed for the money, not for any particular love of the work. And now I’m working in a field I love, and am passionate about. I live, breathe, sleep and eat it in a way I never truly embraced (but had forced on me) in the computer sector, and I’m enjoying every ulcer-inducing moment of it.

I’m also in a state of some awe at being here, finally, in this position of doing what I love. I’ve been working towards it slowly for years, but I think I really thought it would be several more years, maybe even a decade. So there’s the natural inclination to wonder just how I got so, in my view, lucky! The thing is, though, when I step back, I don’t think luck had anything to do with it. I’m here because of hard work, stubborn determination, and that infectious passion for the subject that lets me step up and speak, regardless of who’s around.

It seems like there’s a growing desire, on a lot of people’s part, to blame their lack of success on things out of their control. If they’d only been born into a rich family, if they could have gone to a fully funded Ivy League college. There’s this belief that some people have an easy life laid out for them, and others are doomed to be living failures, solely because of their birth. There’s no personal accountability, no responsibility for one’s actions – it’s all society, all things outside their hands. It’s an ill-fated, pre-deterministic, martyrdom of “poor me.”

I marvel at people who are capable of living like that, and believing those things. The belief itself seems so toxic! And they would likely look at me, and see someone who’s been handed everything just because I have everything. They wouldn’t see the years living as a broke student, or that I paid for college myself, took out huge loans to get through, worked fulltime while teaching and taking classes. That I busted my ass, and now I’m reaping the rewards. People with that toxic mindset would try to find something in my story to write my success off to, some way where it didn’t stem from my actions. And I think that’s offensive, to me and everyone else who’s bootstrapped their way into success
My father was quite literally raised in a one room cabin in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. My mother lived in a small, three bedroom house in the deep south – with her sister, parents, and five brothers. Neither had college educations when they married, to say they were anything but very low income class would be a gross misrepresentation of facts. And yet they worked hard, for themselves and their children, and they pulled themselves up to where they are now. But there was not a silver spoon to be had for my infant mouth..

I was reading an article yesterday that made me smile, not just because it was a very characteristic interview of someone I have grown to admire greatly, but because of how he speaks of getting one of his most prominent academic positions. He wrote a letter to the new director of a certain center, and basically said “Dear Doc – you would be nuts not to talk with me about the center.” It’s brash, it’s ballsy, and it’s how you get ahead.

Life isn’t going to send you an engraved invitation to join the party; sitting around and moping and waiting will get you nowhere, and fast. Life will happen with or without you; make it happen with you, not to you. Find the thing you’re passionate in, and chase it. Make yourself be noticed, stand up and stand out.