Category Archives: Science

Not Quite Yet

Summer                                                                   Park County Fair Moon

“We’re in grave danger”

“The lineup of speakers presented a United States in danger, threatened from abroad and from within, a once-proud nation on the very brink of chaos and dystopia.” NYT, GOP Convention, Day 1

rain over black mountain
rain over black mountain

My post about Mutual Homicide might give you the impression that I agree with this analysis of the immediate future. Nope. Standard and Poor’s and the DOW have both reached record highs in the last couple of days. There are signs that the climate change movement has begun to get traction. The Cubs are winning. Von Miller finally signed with the Broncos. US demographics portend an increasingly diverse nation, with contributions from many cultures strengthening our common life. We’ve just had two full terms of an African-American president and are probably near our first woman president. LGBT rights have increased as has an understanding of transgender individuals. Women have entered more and more careers, have more real power. We are not spiraling into the earth. Not yet.

My mutual homicide conclusion, a dark one, possibly too dark, comes not from the near term, but from a very long term view of the way we humans are acting. We have in place an economic system that does not account for externals, the costs to the public good of private profit seeking. This fact, by itself, is enough to explain the dire distant future I imagine. When the engines of our ingenuity (to borrow the title of an NPR feature) rely on diminishing natural resources and cost-free toxification of the air, the land and our water, then economic advance (like the records for the DOW and Standard and Poor’s) is really a blinking red light. A stop sign. But together we choose, over and over again, to run the light imagining that there is no truck marked CO2 concentration barreling through the intersection.

Can we agree to change course? In theory, yes. In practice, with the state of anarchy that exists among nation-states, it will be very difficult. We need not just one but many statesmen and stateswomen to move into leadership. And unfortunately this is not the trend around the world. No, the world has begun to move toward more and more nativist politics. The Han chinese. The Hindu nationalists. Brexit. The increasing strength of far-right parties in Europe, especially Austria, France and Germany. Donald Trump.

I know, after writing this and the mutual homicide post, that I owe you all a strategy, a path to a future where we do learn to live sustainably on our planet. I’m thinking. I’m thinking.

Getting Back To Work

Summer                                                                  Park County Fair Moon

ballgameSummer has come in full glory and I’m still not back to work. Getting frustrated with myself, need to get a discipline underway. Back to the work in the morning pattern that has seen me through several novels and lots of Ovid.

It is now a year and a day since my cancer surgery, a real spade turner in the soil of my psyche. Are my old goals still appropriate? Does the divorce and the engagement with Jon and the grandkids override them? Doesn’t feel that way. My ability to give correlates with the care I take of myself. Taking care of myself means continuing creative and scholarly tasks. That work plus exercise are central to my life and cannot be avoided without damaging my Self.

computerRight now the days float by. This meeting with Jon. That power washing of the solar array. Mow the fuel. Reorganize the loft. Work in the garage. Read the NYT. Keep up with the presidential campaign. All of these things are important, even necessary, but I’m doing them and not creating the daily discipline that longer projects require. I know how to do it. I have done it. But not now.

This morning I have my first class in a Native Plant class that focuses on the montane ecosystem, the one in which we live. It’s a start in the discipline. What I need is to protect my mornings again. Get up here in the loft, write a thousand words a day, translate at 5 verses of Ovid.

I need encouragement to get this routine started again.

Vat Brewed

Summer                                                                     Park County Fair Moon

Following on the last post, this very futuristic, sci-fi idea. What else will be grown in vats using a chemputer?

Looking Back

Summer                                                           Park County Fair Moon

post op daze, July 8, 2015
post op daze, July 8, 2015

Two days until the anniversary of my prostate cancer surgery. Last year the whole summer was in cancer season and the 8th of July was the denouement, matters then slowly relaxing until the September PSA (prostate specific antigen) test which showed no identifiable antigens in my blood stream. At that point I declared cancer season finished.

Which does not mean the matter has been settled. I’m still getting quarterly PSA’s and will for another year, I believe, then six months until five years of negative findings. Then back to annual.

These days, almost a year beyond the most critical moments of cancer season, I rarely think about prostate cancer. The whole process was then and is now, surreal. No symptoms. Found on a prostate exam. Biopsy confirmed. Cancer. Yikes. Really? How can I have a life threatening condition that has no effect on me? Then, with the surgery, the cancer was gone. The threat that never presented itself to me removed by a robot. The most damaging and problematic aspects of the whole matter were sequelae from the surgery: the catheter, changed erections, incontinence. The latter is now a nuisance and usually not that. Point is that the disease itself caused me no trouble, but the treatment did. Odd.

I do not feel like a cancer survivor, though I am. Instead, I feel like the same guy as usual, sans prostate. I consider myself and feel myself to be in excellent health. Yes, aging has its insults, no doubt about that, but they come and recede. Of course, there will be a time when one doesn’t fade away. But that is not yet. At least not for me.

Juno Comes Back to Jupiter

Summer                                                                        Moon of the Summer Solstice

The half summer solstice moon hangs high in the morning sky today. Friend Tom Crane sent a link to the NASA Juno mission webpage. The first NASA video gives you an overview of the mission. The second shows the earth and the moon dancing with each other as Juno sped by in October of 2013 on its way to its July 4th insertion in Jupiter’s realm.

Bones

Beltane                                                                         Moon of the Summer Solstice

We went to Dinosaur Ridge this morning, the place where the first stegosaurus bones were found in the U.S. It was 92 when we got there. A ride in the vanasaurus, an unairconditioned bus like airport rental shuttle rides, took us up the ridge where we saw bulges in the rock created by brontosauruses walking on their tippy toes and squishing mud far down with their huge tonnage. We also saw a large collection of dinosaur footprints laid down on a beach a hundred million years ago. Grandma and Grandpop enjoyed the tour as much as the kids.

After Dinosaur Ridge, we went to the Red Rock Amphitheater, not for a concert but to find a picnic area. We found one high on a Fountain Formation (red sandstone) ridge overlooking all of the Denver Metro. The breeze was cool, the food was good.

The drive into Denver to drop off Ruth and Gabe with their Dad was hot. As we got further and further into Denver proper, the heat went to 98 degrees. A bit later it hit 104 on our way back toward the Front Range and home. Yike. Fortunately, it was only 74 on Black Mountain Drive.

 

 

Meh

Beltane                                                                          Moon of the Summer Solstice

Reading an article in the New York Review of Books about how the internet has hollowed us out and made us habituated phone-impaired dupes of the surveillance society. My reaction to these technology is making us slaves to the machine sort of articles? Meh. This one has an interesting line which rhapsodizes over the old copper-wire enabled linking of two voices one to the other in real time. Well, the bakelite phone discouraged person-to-person visits, leaving us isolated and alone in our television dominated homes. Or so I’m sure some social critic claimed at the time. Likewise television alone. Kill your TV!

The meme here is not the effect of latter day chip-enabled technology but the article propounding the deleterious effects of technology, period. Remember the Luddites? This is an old argument, one simultaneously proven by the current it gadget and invalidated by the next one. The question is not now and has never been about technology, but about humanity.

It is reassuring to find single cause boogeymen (boogeythings?). If only we could remove all smart phones. If only we could rid of cars. If only we could kill our TVs. Very few mentions in this regard of furnaces, stoves, refrigerators, the electric light. That’s because this technology has been integrated into our lives and now serves a purpose most of us can’t imagine doing without.

My point is not that technology has no affect on our lives, hardly. Rather, it has, like so much else junk bonds, jet travel, level roads and government inspected meat for a few examples, differing effects on different people. Some it aids, some it harms. The responsibility for how it affects you is your own.

I think the question is not how technology affects us, but how we use technology to redefine our individual lives. Computing technology, whether in a laptop or desktop, smartphone or tablet, is a tool. When we use a tool, it extends our bodily Self further into the world, often in ways we could not achieve without it. The chainsaw, for example, makes it possible for me to cut down large trees, take off their limbs and cut them up further into fireplace size logs. It makes me sharp and strong, able to move forests.

The computer, whatever its configuration, on the desk or in my hand, extends my reach, enables me to write and save work, research much of the world’s knowledge, communicate easily with my brother and sister, in Saudi Arabia and Singapore respectively, jot notes to friends and family, buy tickets, find services nearby me, plan travel domestic and foreign. In my world these are good things.

What’s really happening is another churning of the sea of human identity, some old ideas will submerge, sink out of sight, others will be transformed and others will be made de nouveau. This is not scary, nor revolutionary, nor sinister. It’s culture at work, shaped and shaping. The future is an extension of the present, as the present is an extension of the past.

I heart heart

Beltane                                                                           Running Creeks Moon

Raffles Town Club breakfast: Singapore
Raffles Town Club breakfast: Singapore

The things life splices together. Yesterday Kate had an appointment with her cardiologist. I went with her. She showed me the report of her echocardiogram, we discussed the cardiologist’s finding. All very clinical. Yes, the heart is a muscle and one which can be graded and observed at many levels. It has ejection fractions. leaflets, diffusions and profusions, valves and chambers. The fine tuning of the heart’s care is a substantial branch of medicine.

On the bus to Gwangju
On the bus to Gwangju

The heart is also, and perhaps more importantly, a metaphor. For love. For feeling. For courage and persistence. For essence. For intimacy. The metaphor can, too, be graded and observed at many levels. Heartless bastard. In my heart. I heart NYC, you, my dog, my honor school student, my rifle, my concealed carry handgun. That gets right to the heart of things. My heart is heavy. You have heart. My heart belongs to you.

Why might the metaphor be more important than the muscle? Because love lives on past the stilling of the muscle. Kate and I spliced together the cardiologist appointment with a visit to DazzleJazz, hearing the Keith Oxman quartet and Dr. Diva, a singing professor from Nebraska. We sat next to each other, she rested her head on my shoulder. We whispered and touched. My heart belongs to her. And that muscle so closely examined a few hours before? No match for her true heart, the one that belongs to me.

BTW: usual aging heart stuff for Kate. Blood pressure meds now. Attention to diet, keep up with the tai chi. Some upper body resistance work. We can push back against the dying of the light, but it goes out anyhow. Something, sometime. Yet love remains.

Out There

Beltane                                                     Wedding Moon

Ruth and I went to the Fiske Planetarium in Boulder on Saturday night for a program on black holes. Ruth had never been to a planetarium. The lights went down and the night sky appeared on the dome above us. The southern night sky. So, right away the wonder of the star machine. Then, the night sky over Boulder with the constellations. The astronomer talked about their correlation to the ancients who relied on them for agricultural purposes. It is reportedly spring. Somewhere.

Ruth watched and listened carefully. The short film on black holes was not easy, covering the birth of black holes, their peculiar physics and their role in the cosmos. After it was over, the astronomer walked us through some of the recent findings related to black holes, the most notable being the discovery of gravity waves at the LIGO observatory. The relation to black holes is that the gravity pulse detected at LIGO began in a black hole.

sloan image

It’s been a while since I immersed myself in matters astronomical. My fine grained understanding of the evening was not great. The hey now moment came at the end when the astronomer pulled the dome’s display further and further out until the entire Sloan Survey covered only the center of the dome.

The rest of the dome then represented the edge of the knowable universe. Out there the astronomer showed what he called the light wall, a here cooler, there warmer barrier of early light, earliest light, really. This light wall, a new idea to me, represented, he said, the exterior wall of the black hole within which our whole universe lives! Wow. Immediately sped past my understanding. Just did a little quick research on this and found nothing. Could be my hearing. Yet another sensory limitation when it comes to learning about the universe.

On the way out Ruth said she was expecting something like that at the end. Why? Because in the film they had presented black holes as violent, destructive forces, so in the end they’d need to show their good side. Not a scientific conclusion, but still a damned good one. I missed the setup and it was there. Ruth is 10.

One Year Ago

Spring                                                                                   Maiden Moon

Had blood drawn yesterday for my third post surgery PSA. Right now they come every quarter, routine surveillance. The first two have showed .015 which is the clinical equivalent of none. Since the results have followed the best hoped for pattern, I’m experiencing no anxiety about them.

Today is my second annual physical with Dr. Lisa Gidday. This physical revisits a key moment from cancer season. The start of the season. It was last year at my first physical in Colorado when Dr. Gidday found a suspicious hardness in my prostate. I count cancer season as having begun with that physical on April 14th and ending in late September with my first follow up PSA.

It was a short time compared to my image of what cancer is typically like. It went: initial suspicion, see urologist who confirmed Gidday’s finding, biopsy, diagnosis, decision on treatment, surgery, recovery, first PSA after surgery. All this in six months.

There is the question of a cure. Does this mean I have no more prostate cancer? Did the end of cancer season mean the end of the cancer threat? No, it does not. Things look good, very good, but the clinical reality is that a few cancerous prostate cells could have escaped and are dormant right now. My gut says no, that is not the case. I feel rid of the traitorous bastards.

In fact, I feel very healthy right now. Yes, I have this damned knee, lower back and shoulder, but they’re nuisance level. Yes, I have chronic kidney disease, but it seems stable. In fact the numbers that gauge its severity actually improved in my last blood work done in October. Yes, I have insomnia, but it’s just one of those damned things.

My point here is that aging means an accumulation (for most of us) of chronic conditions. We can choose to focus on those as ongoing problems, become obsessive about them and drown ourselves in anxiety or we can recognize their inevitability and, if not embrace them, at least accept them with grace. Most of the time.

The anxiety is unnecessary. That is the point of Yama, the Tibetan deity. To worship Yama we envision our own death, see it coming, embrace its part in our story. When we can truly accept the reality of our own death, anxiety about what may deliver it to us becomes redundant. We may not know the particulars, but we do know the outcome of our life. It’s the same for all of us.