Five Days at Memorial by Sheri Fink

Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Sheri Fink writes on what happened at Memorial Medical Center in New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath in the riveting Five Days at Memorial.  It was heartbreakingly sad and if you've seen me in the last week, I'm sure I was depressed because this book made me question everything about everything.  It's brilliantly written, researched, and I'm going to recommend it to everyone.  I'm going to focus on the following three areas here, but I'm really limiting myself since each page brought me a new ethical dilemma: triage, infrastructure, and euthanasia.

How does one triage in an emergency? When you have limited resources, do you give the resources to the sickest, who otherwise wouldn't be given a chance a survive or the healthiest who have the best chance of survival?  If you're going to be all utilitarian about it, what is the greatest good for the greatest number? What does "good" even mean in medicine - more days alive, better quality days of life, less pain, or what?  It sounds like there were several triage plans in place in different hospitals in New Orleans during this crisis and that's because there are no studies about what is the "most effective" triage system.

Which brings me to the lack of emergency planning on behalf of every institution - the hospital, the corporate entity that owned the hospital, the city government, the state government, the federal government, the radio stations, and the military.  The hospital knew the generators would flood in even a modest flood.  The radio stations were throwing around the term "martial law," which was misinformation that led hospital employees to follow orders from random Coast Guard and National Guard soldiers.  Long before the storm, the city knew that massive flooding would occur if the levees broke, the Army Corps certainly knew, and who knows what the state knew because it's not talking.  I have a hard time blaming hospital doctors and nurses for decisions they made during the storm when they felt abandoned and there was no clear directive to follow.  Hospital employees aren't crisis hardened, they aren't survivors of war, and there's reason to assume that they should have known what to do.  And that's not on the individuals, but on the institutions.

Which brings me to the last point on euthanasia. Yep, it's against the law. But if these employees genuinely believed that there was no hope of rescue and that their patients were going to suffer (remember, they believed this martial law nonsense), then did they have a responsibility?  Does a crisis situation change the rules about euthanasia? There was a very interesting discussion in the book on voluntary versus involuntary and patient-ordered versus non-patient-ordered that really made me question all my beliefs on this.  Obviously, I think involuntary non-patient-ordered euthanasia is just murder. But what if someone is in a coma and unlikely to recover?  They can't tell you what they want.  Obviously, having a living will is useful, but what if there's no electricity and no access to medical records?  I don't know. 

I found the entire book enlightening and stressful. I wondered what I'd do in that situation and I'm not sure I'd make any decisions different from those that the employees made, but I'm not sure I'd be able to live with myself no matter what decision was made. Those employees were stuck between a rock and a hard place and while I hope that all of those institutions are better prepared for an emergency today than they were in 2005, I'm not sure I'd be willing to bet my life on it.

House Rules

We recently had folks over for dinner and we were sort of poking fun at people who have intense rules about visiting - shoes on or off, where to park, where to put stuff, blah, blah, blah - when someone asked me what our house rules were.

I offhandedly joked "don't kick the cat," but we all sort of acknowledged that we wouldn't invite people to our home who would kick the cat. If you're coming over to our place, you are probably a good person.  So I thought and thought and this is what I came up with.

It's never going to stop raining here.

1) Don't bring anything into the kitchen or cook in our kitchen. We have worked really hard to keep it gluten free and I don't relish the idea of someone coming in and accidentally contaminating it. If you want to bring things with gluten in them (this happens a lot at dinner parties), you may put it on the table or our bar, but not in the kitchen.  If something needs to be heated or cooked, one of us will do it.  Don't mess with our kitchen. 

I do think this makes me one of THOSE PEOPLE, but it's a question of health, so I'm willing to accept this as a name.

2) Don't let the cat in the bedroom. She's not allowed in there. Period. I don't care if you think I'm mean or abusive for not allowing her free roam in our small apartment. It's another question of health (in this case, mine - I'm allergic to cats and her dander in the bedroom would cause me to lose a lot of sleep). 

And that's it. I honestly can't think of another "house rule" that wouldn't differ from the vast majority of other people's house rules.  What are the rules if I come visit you?

In the Woods by Tana French

I'm a little bit embarrassed that I just now read this 10-year-old novel, but I've taken In the Woods out of the library about half a dozen times now and I could never make it passed the pretentiousness of the first paragraph. But I listened to the Overdue episode on it and Andrew and Craig rarely steer me wrong about books and they liked it, so there I was at the beginning of winter break, once more checking this book out. And there I was, still struck by the pompous, overblown, showy prose.  This critique is saying something, considering I'm in the middle of reading a Stephen King series (more on that later, I promise). 

On one hand, once I got through page 77 (seriously, I know the page number because it wasn't until page 77 that I didn't have a Post-it* on every other page), the ridiculousness of the writing somehow melted away and the book was a real page turner. Maybe I got used to the off-putting language, maybe the author used every annoying trick up her sleeve already, or maybe the editor only looked at page 75 and on, but after page 75 the book turned into a delightful little mystery. Sure, our main character was thick-headed, sexist, ageist, and kind of dumb. Sure, there was a major plot line that was absolutely unresolved at the end. Sure, there are some problems in the book.  But I enjoyed it and whiled away a few happy hours with my book and my cat on the couch.  But damn there were some up front costs.

British/Irishisms I had to look up: Marie bisuits, Mr. Whippy, Biro, Portakabins, narky, hurley stick, and bowsie.  Actual interesting things I looked up: Marie (Mary) Celeste and the playwright Ionesco.  There you have it.

*When I'm reading books, I jot down notes on Post-its for things I need to look up. Most of the time these things are words, but sometimes they're places, people, or events that it's sort of assumed the reader will know that I don't know.  I'm making more of an effort to tell you what I've looked up, but here's an example of what In the Woods looked like to give you an idea of what my library books end up looking like.

Inauguration Day

We got Princess Care Bear in the Christmas draw this year. We got her a chef outfit and a cookbook. She squealed with glee and immediately asked to put on the hat.  It makes an aunt's heart full when all the research into gifts goes well. 

Tomorrow she's turning three.  I know that some people don't enjoy three-year-olds, but boy do I. It's my favorite age (although that glorious window between 6 and 9 months is awesome, too).  Three-year-olds can communicate, but they aren't at the eye-rolling, know-it-all stage that is soon to follow. They don't know really know anything yet, so their solutions to problems are creative and fun.  I really dig three.

But there's this other thing on our calendar for tomorrow. I'm not talking about the appointment for my hair or the conference call. No, tomorrow is, sadly, inauguration day.

When I think about how I want this world to be for Princess Care Bear, I want it to be a place where she's free to be her best self, where she can walk down the street without fear, where she can count on a job (maybe a chef!) where she is paid the same as a man, without concerns of harassment or casual groping, and where she is loved and appreciated just for being her.  But when I think about what this inauguration day stands for, I worry for her. I worry for all the children, I worry for those who are already on the margins of society, and I worry for those who WANTED this day to happen. I worry, I fret, and I am already tired of the fear and sadness.

So tomorrow I'm going to be celebrating. I will. But it won't be a celebration of a peaceful transfer of power, it won't be a celebration of hatefulness and short-shortsightedness, and it won't be a celebration of a republican form of government I have historically taken pride in.  It will be a celebration of a tiny three-year-old with a giant smile, endless giggles, and a dream for her future. 

2017 Goals

One of the units I teach in my freshman seminar is on time management and goal setting.  I sort of feel like a charlatan when I teach this, but I understand that just because I'm not perfect at something doesn't mean I can't talk about it. Anyway, I have them do a weekly log in which they color code their activities (green = class, red = sleep, blue = studying, yellow = exercise, orange = hobbies, etc.) and then we discuss SMART (specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-bound) goals. I then have them see if how they spend their time aligns with their goals. 

I had moderate success with my goals in 2016 and in the areas in which I failed, I failed because I just didn't have good measuring sticks. When I was teaching this lesson last October, I realized that I hadn't actually taken "measurable" into account. (Also, you should note that my husband, while supportive of me reaching my goals, thinks SMART goals are ridiculous and he sort of mocks my pseudo-corporate jargon when I start talking about them.)  So. This year I'm going to measure.  The bold words give me a time frame and all of it is going to be tracked on a weekly spreadsheet. 

Area One: Fitness Goals
1) Workout four times a week - This is bumped up from three times a week in 2016. I think I can do it.
2) 11,500 steps a day - This is bumped up from 10,000 steps in 2016. Since my average in 2016 was over 12,000, I know I can do this.
3) Weigh myself weekly - I'm not actively attempting to lose weight, but I also don't want pounds to sneak on.

Area Two: Communication Goals
1) Update my blog twice a week - I didn't quite accomplish this last year, so it's going back on the list.
2) Make contact with four people (MDTT) at least once a week - This contact can come in phone, text, card, or in person, but at least once a week these people will know I'm alive and I will know they're alive.  These people are super important to me and I want them to know that.  I'm actively tracking this during 2017.  I'm hoping that eventually this will just happen and I won't have to track talking to people who I love, but for now it's a measurable goal I apparently need.
3) See my mom four times in the year -  I have a lot of guilt about how unequal the time is with Dr. BB's family as compared to mine. I think seeing my mom once a quarter is a reasonable goal. As a matter of fact, I think (and hope) that this goal will be easily met.
4) Send a letter or postcard to my grandmother and two of my elderly aunts at least once a month - This is super easy for me and something I regularly do, but this year I'm going to track it. 
5) Post a photo to Instagram at least once a day - One of the best people in my life is not on Facebook, but she is on Instagram. I feel like posting a photo once a day will help keep her in on my life.  The only condition I have set for myself is that the photos can't be of identifiable people. I don't have my privacy settings set particularly high, so it's mostly just photos of Zelda and landscapes.

Instagram collage!

Area Three: The Rest of My Life
1) Vacuum twice a week -  Last year I had some vague notion about keeping the house clean for unexpected guests. That was not at all measurable. I considered a cleaning time limit like 30 minutes a week of dedicated cleaning, but when I really thought about it, I realized that what makes our house look dirty is cat hair, so vacuuming on a regular schedule should address this.
2) Brush Zelda's teeth when I feed her at night - I have so much guilt over my cat's dental health. I used to regularly brush her teeth, but she hates it, so I don't push it, but the last time we were at the vet's, the vet made mention of tartar buildup.  Poor kitty.
3) Get my sewing machine out at least once a month - I don't want to even kid myself about finishing a project once a month, but I do eventually want to sew my own clothing and there's no real way to do that except to practice.

I'll let you know how it's going at the end of the first quarter. 

The Experiment of Dreams by Brandon Zenner

The Experiment of Dreams was free for Amazon Kindle users one day (I feel like this is obvious, but you know that there are sites like BookBub and Reading Deals that will  send you an email with free and cheap book titles every day, right?), so I purchased it. Once I had read all my trashy romance novels, I started reading it before bed. 

There are minor spoilers ahead, so be warned.

 Basically there's a device that can record your dreams and a dude signs up to be the guinea pig for research surrounding it and intrigue and mystery follow.  I just didn't care for it. The writing was clunky, the plot was dulllllllllllzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, and the main character was about as flat and cliche as can be.  I will delete this book from my Kindle and never think of it again.

It looks like the book is now going for $2.99 for the Kindle version on Amazon. Don't do it!!

Moonglow by Michael Chabon

 Moonglow by Michael Chabon was our January book club pick. I'm going to give a spoiler right away and say I loved it. It's ostensibly the story of the narrator's grandfather's deathbed reminiscences, but there's so much around it. It travels from the streets of Philadelphia to a prison yard to suburban Florida without so much as missing a beat. There's science, family tragedy and secrets, and hilarious one-liners.  And that's without me even getting to how each sentence is a tiny little masterpiece.

Let's say you had a secret. It's a secret that would absolutely change how those around you, including your family, feel about you and maybe how much they trust you. If you told a doctor this secret and the doctor offered to tell your spouse (or not!),  would you want your spouse to know? If you were the spouse, would you want to know?  I mean, ideally I would just want my spouse to tell me any secrets, but I can see why not everyone would want to just blurt out important things. 

Anyway, this book is glorious. I highly recommend it.