The Last Word On Nothing

The Last Word

By: Jessa Gamble | August 8, 2015

August 3 – 7, 2015

Produce from our lovingly tended gardens is communal property, whether we like it or not, finds Ann. The tragedy of the commons never sounded so joyful.

Erik Vance wishes his sequenced genes could explain everything about him and predict the course of his unborn son’s life. Alas, the crystal ball of genetics is cloudy.

After a summer of extreme forest fires, Michelle reports on an artist who collects charcoal from burnt trees and converts it into printer ink with which he produces photos of those trees.

Office thermostats are set according to a formula optimized for the male metabolism, says Jenny. Just as women get used to shivering at work, along come the hot flashes.

Michael Jackson underwent nightly anesthesia instead of sleeping. It killed him – but otherwise, does it work? My take.

Image: c/o Ian Boyden

Can anesthesia satisfy the need for sleep?

By: Jessa Gamble | August 7, 2015

When Michael Jackson died, it came to light that he had been receiving an IV drip of the anesthetic Propofol throughout the night for the previous two months. His death was attributed to cardiac arrest, brought on by an overdose of the drug. Clearly, this kind of treatment is a bad idea, and I don’t know anyone who would support it. But in the months that followed, the underlying principle — that anesthesia can replace sleep — was summarily dismissed. I think it deserves a second look.

In the wrongful death suit that followed his private doctor’s trial, a Harvard sleep expert came in to testify:

Q: Is Propofol a sleep medication?

A: No; it’s an anesthetic.

Q: And is there a difference between an anesthetic and a sleep medication?

A: Yes.

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The Cold Truth

By: Jennifer S. Holland | August 6, 2015

A little while back I needed a gift for a friend, and I came across some pretty hand-knit gloves at a craft fair that I knew she’d like. They were fingerless but still quite warm and they’d go nicely with the wooly shawl I’d gotten her the year before.

Never mind that it was the middle of summer. I was sure she’d be wearing them every day anyway. At the office.

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Painting Fire With Fire

By: Michelle Nijhuis | August 5, 2015

The Carlton Complex, the largest wildfire in the history of Washington state, started on July 14, 2014 in the foothills of the North Cascades. When it was finally extinguished, almost 40 days later, it had burned more than 250 homes and disrupted thousands of lives in Okanogan County, a rural county on the northern edge of the state. Over the past year, I’ve been reporting on the county’s recovery from the fire, and along the way I heard about an artist named Ian Boyden.

In the summer of 2007, during a trip to Okanogan County from his home in southern Washington, Boyden decided to hike up an 8,000-foot peak called Tiffany Mountain. He’d read that it was one of the most striking climbs in the Pacific Northwest, and he was not disappointed. “It was probably the most transformative hike of my life,” he told me recently.

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The Brain I Wish I Had

By: Erik Vance | August 4, 2015

I’ve been spending a lot of time lately thinking about my bloodlines. Perhaps it’s my impending fatherhood, perhaps I’m just at that age. I’ve been tracing my grandfathers’ heritages back through the Revolutionary War and to the Tudor conquest of Ireland. I’ve planned a trip to Norway, which is my grandmother’s homeland, and hope to visit a lighthouse that was once manned by my great great grandfather.

And I had my genome sequenced by 23&Me. I didn’t do it for my family heritage or to find out how much Neanderthal DNA I have (a disappointing 2.7 percent, given the size of my brow and forehead). I wanted to know something deeper. I wanted to understand why I am how I am. I wanted to get the genetics of my personality. Continue reading →

Petty Larceny, Vegetable

By: Ann Finkbeiner | August 3, 2015

I may have stolen my neighbor’s tiny cherry tomatoes right off the vine. They were so glowingly red, so warm, how could I help myself?

Maybe “stolen” is a little harsh because I didn’t have to go onto her property to get the tomatoes, we share-crop them in pots in my back driveway. And after all, she was going away and asked if I would harvest any that came ripe while she was gone. And I knew she was gone but I have to be honest now, I didn’t know when she was coming back. For all I knew, she was back already. I’m in the realm of putative petty larceny here. Continue reading →

The Last Word

By: Ann Finkbeiner | August 1, 2015

July 27 – 31, 2015

Christie’s dog continues to live life as stupidly as possible, this time involving a skunk; and Christie solves the problem with the power of science. This post is a public service.

Guest Chris Arnade’s pond is drying up; he saves the life of a one-eyed spring peeper but those tadpoles might never graduate into frogs. He’s got heroic, heart-rending pictures.

In yet another public service, Helen squarely faces the dilemma of the CSA and her frig, applies her superb mental abilities, and shares the solution. Except for beets, she hasn’t solved beets yet.

What if Cassie didn’t obey the doctors and before she went into the hospital, she ate a cherry scone? What would she risk? Would they even know?

The week ends with the latest in LWON’s preoccupation with hapless animals: guest Emily Underwood’s hamster, Hamlet, may well have committed suicide. He was prone to that kind of thing.

Forced Fasts and Surgical Risks

By: Cassandra Willyard | July 30, 2015

A week ago, I found out that the baby I’m carrying is breech. Instead of being head down, she is stubbornly head up, not such a good position for birthing. Since I am only a few weeks away from my due date, it’s unlikely she’ll flip on her own. And if she stays breech, I’ll likely have to have a C-section.

So yesterday morning I went to the hospital to have a doctor try and manhandle her into the correct position, a procedure called external cephalic version (or “version” for short). It’s a fancy name for a rather brutish procedure: A doctor clasps the baby’s head, a nurse grabs the baby’s butt, and then they try to thrust her into the right position. This works about half the time. And there are risks: The baby’s heart rate can fall, the umbilical cord can get squeezed, the placenta can tear, the amniotic sac can rupture. Once in a great while the doctor has to take the baby out right away. Continue reading →