Saturday, June 30, 2012

Recidivist

Has it really been since February that I posted?  Wow.  It's not that I haven't been reading.  It's just that I'm not posting.  So, only quick summaries/reflections.

Blue Hole Back Home, by Joy Jordan-Lake.  It's rather cool to know, I mean, really know, the author of a book, and I do know Joy.  I should have read this book sooner, but I'm glad that I did.  The story is loosely based on places and settings from Joy's childhood in the South.  It addresses the provincial nature of small rural areas and the reaction of the kids when a new girl from Sri Lanka, moves to a back-water burg.  She's brave; she's interesting; but she's different.  The group that "Turtle" runs with come to accept her, but not everyone is so welcoming.  There are plenty of hints that the tension caused by the new, "dark-skinened" girl is going to come to a head.  And it does, and tragically so.  America at its worst--and best. 

Ulltimately, it does not leave one with the warm fuzzy feeling of childhood reminiscences.  Rather, it is a reminder of the not-so-distant ugly past--much of the book is set in 1979, which would have been shortly after I graduated from high school.

Perhaps the only criticism I have is that in some respects, I had a hard time fully relating.  As a Sri Lankan, Sanna clearly had her challenges.  Perhaps it's small-minded of me, but I can't help but think that she would never have been accepted by the "mangy pack" had she been Black.  I suppose there's a vein of resentment that foreigners generally are better accepted than African-Americans, but that's something for me to work on.  It was time well-spent.


Every Patient Tells a Story, by Lisa Sanders.  Sanders is a consultant to the TV series House.  That, of course, was a selling point for this book.  Her premise is that doctors who listen to their patients are likely to provide better service--not exactlyearth-shattering.  However, she does make the case that in many ways, the medical profession has become so enamored with the bells and whistles of technology that the patient is almost secondary to medical care, and that something is lost when physicians fail to listen carefully to their patients to obtain context about their various symptoms.  She recounts a series of vignettes--as most of these kinds of books do--to illustrate her points.  The most memorable story involved the pot-smoker who was suffering all sorts of problems with nausea and dizzyness because of her chronic use of weed.  She, like probably most of us, had never heard of the maladies that some chronic users suffer.  Her view:  she knew people who smoked more pot than she who suffered no issues.  Hence, she disappeared into obscurity, having left the hospital.

Not a bad book.

The Winds of War, by Herman Wouk.  The best thing I can say about this book is that I have a better understanding of the lead-up to America's entry into World War II.  The second-best thing that I can say about this book is that it had a mildly entertaining story.  However, it is one of those stories where all the characters seem to be in harm's way but generally escape with little or no scars to show for it.  Only one character suffers any bodily injury, while in Warsaw, chasing after a girl that he ultimately marries.   It's not that I want bad things to happen to characters, but rather that it detracts from the reality of the story that the various characters could lead such charmed lives while being at every crucial event in the run-up to Pearl Harbor.  Indeed, they're all in Hawaii.  The ship that Pug was to captain is sunk, and he's distressed by that, but other than that, all is well.  Even his wife, who has a brief affair, is ready to resume her wifely duties. 

To add insult to injury, the book has one of those irresolute endings.  It ends with Pearl Harbor.  What happens to the characters thereafter is left for the sequel.  It is the "winds of war" that are addressed by this book, not the war itself, but no thanks to the sequel.

Sacre Bleu, by Christopher Moore

What does one do when her son gives her a book for Mother's Day?  Why, read it of course.  BoilerBaby 2 and I both became fans of Christopher Moore with our respective readings of "A Dirty Job."  In this book, Moore continues to display his character of a very well-read, well-educated 13 year-old, masquerading as a grown man.  On the one hand, Sacre Bleu builds its story around the art world during the time of Talousse-Latrec, when impressionists ruled.  On the other hand, Moore writes like an adolescent who giggles with his buddies about "bonking" and other such things.  Ultimately, that's what makes this book engaging.  As I reader, I could indulge my inner child while still feeling like I was reading a very weighty book and learning about Monet, Manet, Seurat, and others.  And I did learn something:  blue was apparently a very expensive pigment to obtain.  Only the wealthiest could afford to commission or purchase paintings that contained blue.

The protagonist of the story is Bleu, a muse who has lived for time immemorial with The Color Man, who inspires artists to paint with the blue pigment she and the Color Man concoct, which then provides their means of immortality.  But somebody has to pay.  Somebody always has to pay, in the form of death. 

The story is wacky, silly, and gave me the speech I plan to use with my children's significant others.  Glad I could read this book.

Reading: The First 20 Minutes
Listening: 11-22-63
Given up: Russka
The Red Queen

Monday, February 27, 2012

Catherine the Great by Robert Massie. This book tells the life of one of the most fascinating rulers the world has ever seen. That she was married very young to the future emperor having met him only once and enduring a loveless (and sexless) marriage gives some hint of the unusual life she led. That she had some 12 lovers, and that at best only one of her children was fathered by her husband (Peter Ulrich) provides another level of fascination. That the empress would have absolute power to rule her people and protect them and that she had the cajones to wage war and defend seek to exapnd her empire makes her truly a unique person to have lived.

Ultimately, while the books was long, it has peaked my interest about Russia and Russian history. St. Petersburg, here I come? That wouldn't be out of th realm of consideration. I've gone through my Russian literature phase, but this might be my second wave of interest in all things Russian.

How to be Black by Baratunde Thurston. I only thought I knew how to be black. But apparently one could use a book. Actually, this handbook on how to be black, written as a satire, strikes a chord. When do black people first realize that they're black? Are we in a post-racial world? Those are just two of the questions posed as Thurston tells his onw history (lived in the DC ghetto; attended Sidwell Friends; black mother who loved to camp and travel, and yes, he can swim!)of being black. Along the way, he instructs readers on how to be the black friend, the black employee,the angry Negro, and the spokesperson for our people. The chapter on how to be the second black president is just short of brilliant. In it, he deftly (and comically) acknowledges the forces that led to President Obama's election while skewering liberals who supported him and conservatives who didn't.

So appropriate to read--after all I read it during Black History month.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Quick rundown

Forgetting one's password means that posting is difficult. . . no impossible. I hate that every site has different rules for passwords, making it difficult for meto keep up with all of my passwords. So, maybe what that means is that I should post more often. But I've been busy. A new Nook for Christmas means that I've been reading my share, but also doing other things. Either way, here goes the quick update.

Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities. It's everything I always suspected. Most sororities are filled with superficial girls who drink and screw more than they study. But the author somehow infiltrated some of the national sororities and gave lots of information that is not available to us who weren't so cute or rich (or white) in college. The black sororities are portrayed relatively positively. The author acknowledges that some have been guilty of hazing, but focuses on the fact that service is an important part of the experience, more so than pre-gaming (drinking before the party) and partying. Perhaps the saddest thing is the black coed who rushed the white sororities at one of the Southern schools (Alabama?). She's everything that should make her a viable candidate,except her color. She's rejected by every single sorority the first year, and then with pressure on the sororities from the administration and support from that same administration, she tries again the next year. The result is the same. Why??? I wish I could have said to her, "Have some pride!"

Anyway, it was light easy reading.

Body of Work, by Christine Montross. This book made me a bit schizophrenic. On the one hand, it made me feel like a kid again, paying chicken with the gross-out factor. On the other hand, I felt like an inquisitive, mature adult, learning about the training that occurs with doctors. In short, this book chronicles the author's first year of medical school, with a primary focus on gross anatomy. Of course, that's the class where med students disect a cadaver. Montross gives sufficiently intricate detail abut the class itself, while interweaving her research findings on hunan cadaver disection, the attitudes of laypeople, and the training and attitudes of medical students in other countries. Along the way, we learn bits and pieces about her cadaver, whom she and her fellow students have named "Eve" because for reasons that they are never able to determine, she has no belly button. As a bonus, she talks about some of the structures of the human body. I found myself feeling around my own body for the landmarks Montross describes.

I gained a new appreciation for the challenge of first year med school as well as the challenge of learning everything in a complex structure like the human body. I feel some urge to donate my body, but I'm not quite ready to take the step of making the actual arrangements. Nonetheless, I had the stomach (and lots of other parts) to finish the book.

Blood Feud, by Kathleen Sharp. Greed knoweth no bounds. That's plenty evident in this book which traces the marketing of the drug Pro-Crit. I vaguely remember the TV ads that used to run, advertising this medicine that would increase production of red blood cells, giving chemo patients more energy. The ads gave hope that one could get through chemo and not suffer as much.

What Johnson & Johnson omitted was that it was pushing the drug for usse in a way that had little research behind it regarding safe dosing levels for use in cancer patients. Rather, J&J pushed doctors to use higher and higher doses.

The marketing of ProCrit for cancer patients was just the tip of the iceberg. J&J didn't invent ProCrit--it was a licensee, subject to a market sharing agreement, which J&J breached with impunity. The inventor reserved for itself the dialysis market, but J&J found ingenious ways to steal customers.

And then there's the kickback scheme, that allowed everyone--doctors, the commissioned sales people, and of course J&J to profit at the expense of the taxpayers.

The story is told mostly from the perspective of one of J&J's salesmen, who started as a superstar and ended as a pariah, and in the process, he brought down his closest friend in the company.

The book provides a fascinating look at the way big pharma morkets its drugs.

Hot Lights,Cold Steel,by Michael Collins. As I am solidly in my "I'm fascinated with medical school" phase, this book fit right in. Collins recounts his four-year residency as an orthopod at the Mayo Clinic. He starts out as an insecure first year resident, unfamiliar witht he jargon of his chosen specialty, and ends as a chief resident. He recounts the tragedies and the victories (such that they are) of memorable patients, including the 40-something woman who learned she had breast cancer when she came in because of pain in her hip--the cancer had already metastasized, leaving her only a couple of months to live. There's the tragic teenager who had a rare form of cancer that required the amputation of half of her pelvis. Would that we all had such a positive outlook on life as that girl, who focused not what she didn't have, but what she did have.

On Call: A Doctor's Days and Nights in Residency, by Emily Transue. Like Hot Lights, Transue recounts her years of residency. Hers is in Seattle, in internal medicine. Transue's book is not as well written, but it is still englightening given that she faces a broader range of patients with different needs. Like Collins, she's fatigued, but there are patients that are memorable and who have a profound effect on Transue. Consequently, while the book is not quite as engaging as Hot Lights, it is more deeply personal; one can see Transue grow as a doctor and grow in maturity and understanding of herself. Good read.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Playing Catch-up . . . again

The Dark End of the Street. "A black woman's body is never her own." Until relatively recently, that was all too true. The reality was that while a black man's wayward glance at a white woman could mean he'd be swinging from a tree, white men were free to rape black women with impunity; there was little risk that he would suffer any consequence, but certainly not a death sentence even though the death penalty was available for rape at that time. "The Dark End of the Street" is a pretty appropos title, given that much of what happened was hidden. The police that raped women, the drunkards who went cruising for a black woman to abduct, story-after-story of women who suffered pain and humiliation with no recourse.

Perhaps the most surprising thing was that Rosa Parks was an activist in the fight for justice. Indeed, until the bus boycott, she was better-known for that. Also surprising was that one of the Little Rock Nine was a victim of an attack by a white man.

I am often reminded that the present is a pretty good time to be alive for women. This book is yet another reminder of the how much things have improved for women, black women in particular.


Sex at Dawn. This was a fascinating book, positing the theory that from an evolutionary or anthropological standpoint, humans were not meant to be monogamous. Rather, our history and our evolution suggest that we are better suited for lots of different partners. The authors theorize that the thing thing that changed the trajectory of human sexual development was the move to agriculture, which led to a need for private property, which resulted in women becoming another object of ownership. They support their theory with evidence that hunters and gathers were more cooperative and collaborative because there was no reason to fight--there was plenty of food and it was easy to move to another area to avoid strife. Rather, sex was used as a way to build cooperation and collaboration. There was little concern about paternity certainty, but rather it was to the advantage of the community that all men protect all children.

The authors further describe a variety of hunter-gatherer peoples in which there is lots of sex among lots of people. In some of those cultures, there is the belief that a young woman must be filled with semen upon menarche or other special occasions, which come from various men.

The authors also build their case with descriptions of bonobos, the primates that are nearest to humans who have multiple partners. Moreover, the question the size of the human penis as compared to that of primates where there is a dominant male or pair-bonding. According to them, in humans, rather thabe men battling by size or other prowess, the real competition occurs at the sperm level, i.e. the man whose sperm has the best shot of hitting the jackpot of the egg will have the best chance of reproducing. A larger penis helps get the job done. Plus why are men so fast on the trigger while women take so long to get going? Because, if there are lots of men doing a woman, it's no problem.

In short, there is a reasonably convincing case that humans are not "naturally" monogamous. I'm not planning on having an affair, but it's an interesting theory.


The Secret Life of the Grown-Up Brain. I felt so much better after reading this book! I'm not losing my mind, and there's little reason to believe that I have early stage dementia just because I find my self questioning what I went to the kitchen to retrieve or do. This is a feel-good book, that reminded me that being middle-aged has its advantages. The studies show that as we age, we are more easily distracted, hence forgetting what we were doing, but we also have a better ability, as compared to younger folks, to focus on what's important and to respond accordingly. We take longer to learn new things, but once we don, we're as good or better as the younguns! Plus, we're happy, happier than the young folks. Provided that we are are in good health with sufficient resources, we tend to be happier than young people because the kids are raised and we have perspective.

Some of what is in this book seems obvious, but I learned some things about what's happening as my brain ages. There's still plenty of plasticity and cell growth that means everything is A-OK, just different.

The Female Brain. A look at what makes a brain female and the developmental stages it goes through, from birth to post-menopausal. It was interesting. Some things were obvious (e.g. girls have a larger area of their brains devoted to talking and teenage girls are very much affected by hormone spikes), but it was nonetheless interesting. If there was one gripe, it was that the author, a psychiatrist, took some of the anecdotes from her practice, which sames made up of far too many whiners who don't need a shrink, but some of Helen Wilson's common sense to just get on with life. Anyway, it was a good read.

Reading: The God Delusion; Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities
Listening: Nothing currently. something soon.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

What's happening!

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. Being poor is hard; it's challenging. Francie, the main character, manages to survive and to have hope. She survives the demeaning statements of the doctor who immunizes the poor children before statrting school. She survives the meaniness of the neighborhood school and her choice to walk more than a mile to attend a better schol. Francie survives her mother's decision to allow Neely, Francie's younger brother, to attend school while expecting Francie to work to help support the family. Through all that occurs with her nuclear family and her aunts, she retains a steely core and has hope--sustaining hope. A nice coming-of-age story.

An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser. This book marked a temporary return to the Time 100 Best Novels list. I love the true crime shows on cable tv, and I loved this book! Written like one of the best true crime stories, but with the collateral stories that exist in a work of nonfiction. Clyde Griffiths, raised by non-ordained Christian ministers that run a"mission" and can barely take care of themselves, wants more. He wants the material goods that he sees other 12-year olds have. He wants to hang out with friends, especially girls, like other teens, as time progresses. He wants the American dream. As is the case in real life, often, the first bit of freedom spells trouble for a boy who is ill-prepared to deal with the temptations of the world.

As the novel unfolds, a chance meeting with the beautiful daughter of a wealthy family coupled with an unplanned pregnancy with a working class girl spells doom for Clyde. At points during the story, I felt bad for Clyde because of his treatment by the wealthier branch of his family. Later, I hated Clyde--he had no redeeming characteristics. By the end, I felt bad because of Clyde's wasted life. Masterful story-telling, for sure.

The Believing Brain by Michael Shermer. I guess it's accurate to say that I'm in my brain stage. Back-to-back audio books on the brain is the evidence. This book focused on how beliefs form--the patternicity and agenticity--and why the scientific method is a superior method for testing beliefs. I mostly enjoyed it, especially the chapters on religious beliefs and alien abductions, which, according to Shermer, can be explained based on the physiology of the brain. On the other hand, like Incognito, at times it digressed into other areas, that I'm not sure I understood why they were there or where they fitted. There's a lengthy discussion of the origin of the universe. I understand why that may raise questions about the belief in god, but it went into the kind of detail that was more appropriate for A Short History of Nearly Everything. It was a good review, but not necessary. Nonetheless, I suppose I've become more of a skeptic, which in some ways, is a bit troubling, but that's a discussion for another time.

Reading: The Dark End of the Street.
Listening: Sex at Dawn

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Oops, I did it again . . .

How did I get behind? I keep forgetting to post, but here goes.

Dragonfly in Amber, by Diana Gabaldon. This is the second in the Outlander series. The story is not quite as engaging as Outlander, but still passably good. The first part of the story is mor.e present day, as Clair returns to Scotland with her daughter, having practiced medicine for some 20 years or so. Her present day husband, Frank, has died, and she's ready to disclose to her daughter her paternity. As it turns out, Frank is NOT the daddy. Rather than honor goes to Jamie--not exactly a surprise.

The second part of the story recounts Jamie's and Clair's life after Clair rescues Jamie from prison and nurses him back to physical and mental health. The history of the Jacobites, in my mind, weighs the story down some; the story seems to drag, as Jamie, armed with Claire's knowledge of the future, attempts to rewrite history to avoid defeat at Culloden. The characters too often seem to act, well, out of character. At times, Claire seems irrational and overly emotional. In the end, it was an okay story, but I found myself counting down the pages until the end.

Tess of the D'Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy. This is a re-read, and it was better, although no less tragic, the second time around. Poor Tess. Circumstances beyond her control, and society's view of women, lead to her ultimate demise. The men in her life mostly fail her if they don't outright hurt her in some way. Hardy writes an interesting commentary about the social order, creating what what he believes to be a pure woman. I'm not so sure she's pure, or maybe it's just that I want her to stand up for herself and to be more worldly. Maybe, once again, it's me looking at a 19th century story with 21st century eyes. Well worth the time to re-read.

Agnes Grey, by Anne Bronte. There's a reason why Anne didn't enjoy as much fame and renown as Emily and Charlotte. This story is interesting, but ultimately seems to be little more than a glimpse into the world of a governess, with little character development and only a thin plot. Agnes, to help her family who is nearly destitute after an investment goes bad, becomes a governess. The first family she lands with has the brattiest, pre-sociopaths one could possible hope to meet. It's no surprise, given that the parents exercise no discipline and won't allow Agnes to do so either. Plus they condone torturing baby birds, after all, God made animals for man's pleasure. The engagement doesn't last long. The second family has older children, but with much the same attitude. The two boys are arrogant and the daughters are deceitful. One is willing to play with the affections of men just for the pleasure of turning them down. Through it all, Agnes, raised on her mother's love and disciplined with her disapproval, maintains her integrity. She never speaks up, even to defend herself. A little backbone please? Anyway, in the end, she finds her soul mate, who is every bit as good-hearted as she is, and they all live happily ever after.

Reading: The Apothecary's Daughter.
Listening: A Brief History of Nearly Everything.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Playing Catch-up, big-time

From the last post:

Two for the Money, by Janet Evanovich. Another Stephanie Plum novel with parts that make one laugh out loud and make me think that Janet Evanovich must be one fun woman to hang out with. Stephanie has become a better bounty hunter, but still needs help, sometimes from her grandmother, although with the kind of help she offers, who needs antagonists. One moment attending funerals and checking out the body to see if a finger has really been severed; the next, spouting lines from Dirty Harry, everyone should have a grandmother like Grandma Mazur.

This one is enough different that I'm not too concerned (yet) about the books becoming formulaic, but I wonder if she can maintain the originality as the books continue.

Gray Matter, by David Levy. Dr. Levy is a Christian. Like most doctors, Levy did not attend a medical school that openly discussed spirituality, specifically prayer. Nonetheless, Dr. Levy, a brain surgeon, discovers his spirituality and the importance of prayer in his life, and undertakes to pray with his patients. As a neurosurgeon, Dr. Levy encounters many frightened patients for whom prayer is a comfort. Others are scared, but skeptical of prayer. Either way, after he gets up the nerve to ask to pray, he discovers that most patients are willing to allow the prayer, and that many of the medical professionals with whom he works also want to participate.

I was a bit skeptical myself. I believe in the power of prayer, but I was concerned that Dr. Levy was another sanctimonious holy-roller who, given his position of power. What I found was that he was a bit arrogant, but then again he's a brain surgeon. He was sensitive to the sentiments of others and did not force himself on anyone. He even senstively handled the situation involving a Jew and a Muslim.

Overall, I hope that other medical professionals might be encouraged to consider it. When I was a patient, I remember how I felt more peaceful when Raymond B prayed with me before my surgery. It would have been nice to have the medical professionals asking for wisdom and skill in peforming the surgery.





Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon. Everyone should read a time travel book from time-to-time. This one, set in Scotland, involves Claire Randle, who one moment is enjoying a second honeymoon with her husband, whom she barely knows given that she's spent several years as a WW2 battlefield nurse, and the next, she's wandering the Scottish countryside, courtesy of some bewitched stones that hurl her back in time to the 1700s when she walks through them. Sex, murder, accusations of witchcraft, and a little bit of English-Scottish history make for a pretty good story. Gabaldon has some annoying traits, like verbosity and constantly using the adverb "dryly" to modify every bit of dialogue, but overall, it's a pretty good read, good enough that I've been working on the second book in the series, Dragonfly in Amber.

Water for Elephants, by Sara Gruen. Interesting premise--a story about the old-time traveling circuses during the depression era. Jacob Jankowski literally, although unintentionally, ran away and joined the circus, and in the process, acaquired an elephant and a wife.

The story is told in retrospect by old Jacob. Those parts are rather depressing reminders of loneliness and despair of growing old, outliving spouse and most friends, and waiting for . . . what, in a nursing home where the residents are treated much like children. The parts that take place while Jacob is young are intriguing, if a bit fantastic, but one gets an idea of why running away to the circus was considred romantic.


Bossypants, by Tina Fey. How did Tina Fey get to be Tina Fey? This memoir takes the reader fron her childhood and her education on the facts of life, through her time in Chicago learning how to do improv to her hiring as a writer on Saturday Night Live to her position as creator, producer, and star of 30 Rock. It's Tina Fey. She writes jokes for a living, so there are some pretty funny parts, plus, one gets an backstage pass to these iconic shows--well two of them are iconic. Good book.

Well, I think I'm caught up.

Reading:
Dragonfly in Amber

Listening:
A Brief History of Nearly Everything