Do yourself a favor and watch this campaign ad. You know you want to.
“Who’s thaaaat?” I asked with my three-year old heart filling with love.
“That’s your father when he was in the Navy!”
I sat and stared at that picture for the longest time.
My dad was an incredibly handsome man, and I adored him. I still do. And he is still the handsomest man I’ve ever known.
Today would have been his 100th Birthday.
Being a fake medical expert has become a bit passe, frankly. And that expertise came after my rarely discussed time as environmental science expertise honed as a lowly paralegal/legislative & regulatory assistant/lobbyist.
So I figure I’m ready for a new challenge. And just in time for World IBD Day, I’m takin’ on physics!
The Physics of Poop, of course. And I think you will agree that I do have the expertise. And the, ummm, credentials. And I don’t have to go far for sample collection.
You see, there’s an article I read. (Of course there’s an article.)
You know it’s a good article, because this is the photo that accompanies the article:
The authors, David Hu and Patricia Yang, studied poop every which way but Sunday. Well, maybe Sunday, too. Because there are some chores that simply must be done 7 days a week.
They discovered that herbivores produced “floaters” and carnivores plopped “sinkers.” And apparently “stinkers” too, as tigers apparently have the stinkiest poop and panda poop is positively precious.
Bigger animals, not surprisingly, are more prodigious poopers, but interestingly, the speed of poop production is similar regardless of the size of the animal:
Assuming a bell curve distribution, 66 percent of animals take between 5 and 19 seconds to defecate. It’s a surprisingly small range, given that elephant feces have a volume of 20 liters, nearly a thousand times more than a dog’s, at 10 milliliters.
In all honesty, the attraction of the article wasn’t the significant increase in my already vast knowledge and understanding of poop.
Nope. There were two reasons.
First, it’s the fact that this article alerted me to the existence of NASA’s
I think you will admit that I should be an automatic contender.
More importantly, this article gave me something to write about to celebrate World IBD Day. And while I personally celebrate every day, you, personally can have fun with poop on World IBD Day. Don’t say I never gave you anything.
But WAIT! There’s MORE! After this post went to press, I found this article.
Golly. Studying poop has become a 24/7 commitment for me.
As a professional patient, I deal with nurses regularly. And believe it or not, just yesterday when I was having something embarrassing done to my butt, I remembered to say thank you to the nurses who helped me. Well, except for the one who was there when I woke up from anesthesia. I think I said something weird to her, but I don’t think she’ll recognize me with my pants on.
Anyway, it’s National Nurses Week. Say thanks, now while you’re feeling good. Because usually when they’re helping you, you don’t feel so good.
And I’m rerunning this post. Because I can. And to say thanks, again.
Naturally, I was just settling down in my recliner for a nap when the commotion started.
Yesterday I had my Remicade infusion in the outpatient infusion center at the hospital. I was in one of my favorite spots — near the nurses station and the bathroom. The room is a bay of about 15 vinyl recliners designed for easy cleaning. Unfortunately, once the leg rests are up, getting out is nearly impossible. That’s why I like being by both the nurses’ station and the bathroom. No need for a change of clothes.
Anyway, as I was settling down for my nap with my curtain partially drawn when another patient walked towards me from the other end of the corridor. As she neared the nurses’ station, she looked up at the ceiling, and I saw her legs buckle, her arms flap out birdlike, and in slow motion she started to faint.
Luckily for Mrs. Smith, a nurse was there to catch her. That nurse, Brittany, called out for help, and I then witnessed one of the most professional exhibitions of teamwork I’ve ever seen.
Immediately, Molly, my nurse ran to help, calling out, calmly for assistance, and specifying the location. Brittany and Molly gently lowered Mrs. Smith to the floor, with Molly saying “Mrs. Smith, open your eyes,” repeatedly
Other nurses went different directions towards strategically located equipment which was quickly and efficiently brought to the aid of Mrs. Smith.
Within 1 minute, Mrs. Smith had 6 nurses as well as equipment protecting her privacy surrounding her. Each nurse had a role. Molly got Mrs. Smith to open her eyes, then to squeeze her hand, then to speak. Another nurse contacted the ER to send EMTs with a gurney to get Mrs. Smith to the ER. Another started her on a fluid IV while still another nurse took an EKG and yet another set up and constantly monitored vital signs, calling them out to the team.
Within 4 minutes, Mrs. Smith, awake and groggy, was wheeled out to the ER with Brittany, the nurse who originally caught her fall, holding her hand and walking with her.
I can honestly say as an expert patient, that being sick sucks. Often we grouse at our doctors and nurses and other caretakers. We bitch about the hospitals, the costs, everything. Because we don’t want to need these services.
But, like Mrs. Smith (not her real name), I’ve been in need of help before. And when it’s you on the receiving end, it’s hard to appreciate the artistry.
I saw a the most amazing demonstration well-trained staff of caring professionals. I have a lot of faith in my healthcare professionals, but it was fascinating and wonderful watching when I’m not on the receiving end.
Today is Duncan’s birthday — his 3rd! He is a wonderful dog. Sweet, relatively obedient, and incredibly lovable.
But I went a bit overboard with doggie treats for this good boy this year. So I figured I’d share them with his friends at the park. In a way that would be good for the earth. In a way that positively shouts “DOG!” I made doggie goodie bags!
OK, in the stupidest way possible. I used biodegradable dog poop bags, and filled them full of delicious brown dog treats. That way, if I missed any of the morning friends Duncan and I usually walk with, I could leave one on their car.
A dog poop bag filled with brown stuff, left on a car. What could possibly go wrong?
Luckily for me, we saw his friends, and they and their parents were delighted by the goodie bags. They didn’t think me weird for