Tuesday, November 13, 2018
science tip...
Monday, November 12, 2018
about that research...
... project appointment at Wesley Woods facility on the Emory University campus. All along I thought Emory was in Decatur, but when I put the address into my GPS to help me find the route, there was nothing there. Backed up and started again, asking it to find that same street address in Atlanta, and there it was! One of the questions the young man asked me as he administered all the preliminary evaluation is: 'do you know where we are?' The first time I gave the wrong answer by saying Emory University, when the correct response was 'Atlanta', so now you know!
The study wants people who qualify to take a Rx that has been on the market for a number of years, so this is not testing a new drug. I failed to ask what sort of response they expected from the advertisement in the Atlanta paper, so I don't know how many they are hoping to recruit. Apparently one of the primary requirements is that you would not be on any medications to control blood pressure. That is definitely me, as every time I have been someplace to be tested, mine tends to be on the low end. Within normal, but towards the lower numbers. I don't think I have ever had anyone say it was high, or something I should be concerned about, always within normal range, and usually lower than what ever average is.
There has been some evidence that this already approved drug has some interesting side effects. I have read of meds. that might be prescribed 'off label' for some health matter different than what the drug was designed to do, and different from what the FDA approved. A prescription medication that provided some unexpected effect/improvement to a condition other than what the manufacturer had created it for. This particular study would be using a BP med. called 'candesartan' to see if it might help with cognitive function. Apparently it has been found to improve thinking skills for people who might be showing signs of mild or early memory difficulties.
So... being accepted into the study would definitely be a two-edged sword. I don't think I am having problems - any more severe than others my age, who stay busy and depend on a calendar to keep them headed in the right direction at the right time. One of the last things this young man/ researcher did before letting me go on Friday was to take several vials of blood, that will be evaluated in their lab, and likely the determining factor. I'm thinking they are looking for proteins in the blood, those markers that can be found as early signs of deterioration. I'm hoping I get rejected! I would be happy to be told I am not a good candidate as my thinking is too clear.
The study wants people who qualify to take a Rx that has been on the market for a number of years, so this is not testing a new drug. I failed to ask what sort of response they expected from the advertisement in the Atlanta paper, so I don't know how many they are hoping to recruit. Apparently one of the primary requirements is that you would not be on any medications to control blood pressure. That is definitely me, as every time I have been someplace to be tested, mine tends to be on the low end. Within normal, but towards the lower numbers. I don't think I have ever had anyone say it was high, or something I should be concerned about, always within normal range, and usually lower than what ever average is.
There has been some evidence that this already approved drug has some interesting side effects. I have read of meds. that might be prescribed 'off label' for some health matter different than what the drug was designed to do, and different from what the FDA approved. A prescription medication that provided some unexpected effect/improvement to a condition other than what the manufacturer had created it for. This particular study would be using a BP med. called 'candesartan' to see if it might help with cognitive function. Apparently it has been found to improve thinking skills for people who might be showing signs of mild or early memory difficulties.
So... being accepted into the study would definitely be a two-edged sword. I don't think I am having problems - any more severe than others my age, who stay busy and depend on a calendar to keep them headed in the right direction at the right time. One of the last things this young man/ researcher did before letting me go on Friday was to take several vials of blood, that will be evaluated in their lab, and likely the determining factor. I'm thinking they are looking for proteins in the blood, those markers that can be found as early signs of deterioration. I'm hoping I get rejected! I would be happy to be told I am not a good candidate as my thinking is too clear.
Sunday, November 11, 2018
the research project...
... at Emory Healthcare, where I had an appointment last Friday afternoon to meet for the initial interview went well. I hope I gave all the right answers, though I know when I was asked to count backwards from 100 by sevens I likely failed that one miserably. I told the guy who was asking all the questions I was ready for that one, and wanted him to know my answer was always going to be 93. That's as far as I can get, though it is possible I could do a wee bit better with pencil and paper.
I suppose when I tell people I never learned how to multiply they think I am trying to be funny? I am not, and it is not. It's just the sad truth.
I guess the facility where I was instructed to appear at 1 o'clock: Wesley Woods, is on the Emory campus, but it is in a densely wooded area surrounded by colorful deciduous trees and sort of isolated from any buildings that might look like halls of education. I got there a little late, having stopped at the wrong building knowing I was not in the right place, but not sure where I should be. I was directed to drive a little more into the woods to the next building that apparently is the home for a number of research projects. My driving instructions emphatically stated 'do not go over the bridge', causing me to stop and ask to get pointed in the right direction. Arrived a bit behind schedule, but welcomed. The young man who was to interview me called as I was en route, and I told him I would be there shortly.
He met me and directed me into a little cubicle/exam room and we started with documentation. Lots of pages of questions for him to ask, spaces to record responses. Lots of pages of questions for me to complete. Most of it was related to the study, describing what the goal is, how it will work, and what will be expected of me if I qualify as a participant. I was there nearly two hours, giving answers. I would guess that there were as many questions to be certain I understood what the study was for, how it would work, and answers they hoped to find - as there were evaluating me for memory and general health.
The interviewer was originally from Nigeria, so he had a pretty strong accent, with English not being his primary language. At one point when he said something that had the word 'memory' in the sentence, I questioned him, explaining the word when it came out of his mouth sounded like a body part. He looked so perplexed, I was compelled to explain and said that with his accent the word sounds like' breasts', as in 'mammary': he laughed heartily and said he would certainly be practicing his pronunciation.
I suppose when I tell people I never learned how to multiply they think I am trying to be funny? I am not, and it is not. It's just the sad truth.
I guess the facility where I was instructed to appear at 1 o'clock: Wesley Woods, is on the Emory campus, but it is in a densely wooded area surrounded by colorful deciduous trees and sort of isolated from any buildings that might look like halls of education. I got there a little late, having stopped at the wrong building knowing I was not in the right place, but not sure where I should be. I was directed to drive a little more into the woods to the next building that apparently is the home for a number of research projects. My driving instructions emphatically stated 'do not go over the bridge', causing me to stop and ask to get pointed in the right direction. Arrived a bit behind schedule, but welcomed. The young man who was to interview me called as I was en route, and I told him I would be there shortly.
He met me and directed me into a little cubicle/exam room and we started with documentation. Lots of pages of questions for him to ask, spaces to record responses. Lots of pages of questions for me to complete. Most of it was related to the study, describing what the goal is, how it will work, and what will be expected of me if I qualify as a participant. I was there nearly two hours, giving answers. I would guess that there were as many questions to be certain I understood what the study was for, how it would work, and answers they hoped to find - as there were evaluating me for memory and general health.
The interviewer was originally from Nigeria, so he had a pretty strong accent, with English not being his primary language. At one point when he said something that had the word 'memory' in the sentence, I questioned him, explaining the word when it came out of his mouth sounded like a body part. He looked so perplexed, I was compelled to explain and said that with his accent the word sounds like' breasts', as in 'mammary': he laughed heartily and said he would certainly be practicing his pronunciation.
Saturday, November 10, 2018
thinking about...
...my assignment for Thanksgiving lunch, decided I would purchase needed ingredients to make it early. Bought what I did not have on hand before I left work today, to put it together and go ahead to freeze now, then pull out to thaw and serve after overeating on Thanks day. Amusing to me is that I only make it once a year, but had the list for shopping accurately filed away in my head I did not even pull out the recipe card until I came home. And was able buy supplies to complete the recipe and put it together today to freeze until needed.
The recipe was clipped from a magazine many years ago, glued to a 3 x5 file card to be summoned annually for assembly. It 's the only pumpkin pie I have ever made, so when someone asks me 'how to', I cannot tell details for baking: my version goes in the fridge and never even gets close to the oven. That's about the extent of my cooking these days.
No Bake Pumpkin Pie
1 large pkg vanilla instant pudding
1 cup millk
1 can (16 oz) pumpkin
1 1/2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice (which is a combination of cinnamon, allspice and nutmeg)
8 oz. bowl of thawed, room temp. whipped topping
1 graham cracker pie shell
Mix pudding and milk until well blended, stir in pumpkin and powdered spices. Gently but thoroughly fold in small bowl of thawed whipped topping, spoon into cracker crust. Chill or freeze until ready to slice and serve. Add an extra dollop of topping if you like.
There is another recipe stapled onto this one, that is also a no bake version. But it involves unflavored gelatin plus eggs, so you do actually have to cook it in a sauce pan on the stove, before adding other ingredients and spooning into a pre-baked pastry crust. I'm not giving that one because why would you go to all that effort when you can just slap it together and put in graham cracker shell and put in fridge? 'Way too much effort in my opinion! Plus the one with the whipped topping is mostly air so you can over-eat and stuff your self with too much turkey and dressing, gravy and rolls and still have room for a wedge of pie.
Friday, November 9, 2018
book review: "Plain Truth"...
... picked off the shelf in the library specifically because of the author: Jodi Picoult. After recently reading/listening to "Leaving Time", I wanted to see what else I might find by her as she has been prolific. Went to poke around in the stacks to find several others, making the difficult decision to choose only one, as they are all fairly hefty and time consuming to devour. I will certainly be back for more as this one was un-put-down-able. In fact, even though it is a library book, I have passed it along to a friend who reads, and has enjoyed books about the Amish communities in Pennsylvania.
The two main characters are an attorney, Ellie, and a young Amish girl, Katie. Ellie has taken a break from a well-established practice in the city to go to the Lancaster area and visit her aunt, who was raised Amish, but chose to marry an Englisher. The aunt was forced out of the Amish community, but still keeps in touch with her sister, who is Katie's mom. While Ellie thinks she will enjoy a breather from stress of courtroom conflict, she is recruited into representing Katie, who is accused of first degree murder. Katie gave birth in her families' dairy barn, and the infant is found dead.
Katie insists she did not have this baby, that she was not pregnant. The proof is obviously there, and much legal wrangling ensues. An autopsy is done, Medical tests performed, and the lab work indicates the baby was suffocated. Ellie, who thought she was going to enjoy a respite from a high pressure job, ends up moving in with the Amish family as a distant relation, when Katie is released from into her custody.
It is a fascinating story, well researched, with many details of the ways of Plain people. Lots of insight into their lifestyles, helping the reader to get into the mind set of a community that is markedly different from the mainstream thought of the average American citizen. Though they live in the midst of our society, they choose to keep to traditional ways in their business life as well as religious activities. The characters were so real, so complete, so human in their opposing beliefs it was difficult to see the book come to an end. You could get so wrapped up in these individuals, feeling like you are right there with them as they are living this confusing event filled with conflicting ideals, you want to give advice, help them come to a satisfactory resolution.
The two main characters are an attorney, Ellie, and a young Amish girl, Katie. Ellie has taken a break from a well-established practice in the city to go to the Lancaster area and visit her aunt, who was raised Amish, but chose to marry an Englisher. The aunt was forced out of the Amish community, but still keeps in touch with her sister, who is Katie's mom. While Ellie thinks she will enjoy a breather from stress of courtroom conflict, she is recruited into representing Katie, who is accused of first degree murder. Katie gave birth in her families' dairy barn, and the infant is found dead.
Katie insists she did not have this baby, that she was not pregnant. The proof is obviously there, and much legal wrangling ensues. An autopsy is done, Medical tests performed, and the lab work indicates the baby was suffocated. Ellie, who thought she was going to enjoy a respite from a high pressure job, ends up moving in with the Amish family as a distant relation, when Katie is released from into her custody.
It is a fascinating story, well researched, with many details of the ways of Plain people. Lots of insight into their lifestyles, helping the reader to get into the mind set of a community that is markedly different from the mainstream thought of the average American citizen. Though they live in the midst of our society, they choose to keep to traditional ways in their business life as well as religious activities. The characters were so real, so complete, so human in their opposing beliefs it was difficult to see the book come to an end. You could get so wrapped up in these individuals, feeling like you are right there with them as they are living this confusing event filled with conflicting ideals, you want to give advice, help them come to a satisfactory resolution.
driving to ...
... Decatur today, to keep an appointment made a couple of weeks ago. When recently visiting with the cousin who lives there, she pointed out an advertisement printed in the Sunday Atlanta newspaper. Providing contact information about a study that is taking place at Emory University, for people who might be interested in participating in research on dementia. The cousin said she was thinking she would call to get more info., so I got the number and made the contact when I got home.
It was one of those aggravating calls where you think someone is pulling prank on you, with recording directing you through a series of voice mail prompts. Sending you down a profoundly frustrating path that causes you to give up, disconnect with steam coming out of your ears, highly aggravated at the complete lack of results. Undecided about whether another attempt will bring desired results or just another bump up in blood pressure. Looking back, I feel like I went through over a dozen different options, attempting to connect with a real person, who might actually talk to me, instead of the 'if/then' numbers to press for proceeding down the rabbit hole of endless tribulations of plague-ing prompts.
Eventually finding a living breathing human, though not one with any information about the study, I was told someone would call me back. I spoke to a representative the following day, who was able to provide me with answers, and ask enough questions to determine if I would be a good candidate. Which explains why I will steel my nerves and drive to Emory today. There are a number of preliminary things to be done, testing and evaluations to decide about my suitability for being a participant. The only thing that makes me anxious thus far is the prospect of having to get an MRI done, being enclosed in the equipment that feels like a narrow tunnel while a scan is done. Just thinking about that makes my heart race, so hopefully there will be some accommodation for avoiding that particular requirement.
I don't mind giving blood, or answering questions, even though I might be cheating as I have reviewed the questions on the Mini-Mental Exam for practice. I cannot do math, and know one of the questions is to count backwards by sevens: Having never mastered multiplication, I readily admit to a profound lack of math skills. I can count by twos or fives or tens, backwards and forward, but never by seven. So we will see how that goes.... It would be pretty disheartening to get the news I had failed math again, after all these years!
It was one of those aggravating calls where you think someone is pulling prank on you, with recording directing you through a series of voice mail prompts. Sending you down a profoundly frustrating path that causes you to give up, disconnect with steam coming out of your ears, highly aggravated at the complete lack of results. Undecided about whether another attempt will bring desired results or just another bump up in blood pressure. Looking back, I feel like I went through over a dozen different options, attempting to connect with a real person, who might actually talk to me, instead of the 'if/then' numbers to press for proceeding down the rabbit hole of endless tribulations of plague-ing prompts.
Eventually finding a living breathing human, though not one with any information about the study, I was told someone would call me back. I spoke to a representative the following day, who was able to provide me with answers, and ask enough questions to determine if I would be a good candidate. Which explains why I will steel my nerves and drive to Emory today. There are a number of preliminary things to be done, testing and evaluations to decide about my suitability for being a participant. The only thing that makes me anxious thus far is the prospect of having to get an MRI done, being enclosed in the equipment that feels like a narrow tunnel while a scan is done. Just thinking about that makes my heart race, so hopefully there will be some accommodation for avoiding that particular requirement.
I don't mind giving blood, or answering questions, even though I might be cheating as I have reviewed the questions on the Mini-Mental Exam for practice. I cannot do math, and know one of the questions is to count backwards by sevens: Having never mastered multiplication, I readily admit to a profound lack of math skills. I can count by twos or fives or tens, backwards and forward, but never by seven. So we will see how that goes.... It would be pretty disheartening to get the news I had failed math again, after all these years!
when a customer....
...comes along wanting to purchase balloons, I am usually the person who will stop another task and go fill with helium. Everyone I work with is capable of doing it, and there is often someone much closer to the tank, sitting in the floral area. But they will all look up when they hear about a 'customer needing service', hoping they will not be the one to do it. Thinking if they wait long enough I will drop everything and trot up to the customer awaiting assistance and offer to help. Either filling the ones purchased on line, or the balloons chosen from our selection.
I was at work last Sunday, talking to a customer as I filled the balloons she wanted for a birthday party. I noticed one of the Mylars she wanted had 'sweet sixteen' on it, and thought of daughters who are so excited about getting driving permits. Teenagers thinking of that time when they pass the milestone, reach the age of thinking they are capable of independent driving. I told the customer I had a story to tell her, that was not amusing when it happened, but now so far in the past the daughter willingly tells it on herself.
The day she turned sixteen and got her license to drive was a Wednesday. I know that because we attended a mid-week dinner at church, and she asked if she could drive home. Which was not a big deal, because I would be in the passenger seat, and her younger sister would be along as well. I don't recall if I was the cook/kitchen worker, but it has been so long ago I think not. We just went to eat, have a short program and go home. Leaving her dad at church for choir practice, with daughters needing to finish school work and get to bed.
I am still, after nearly twenty years, not sure just exactly what happened when we got home. But there was an accident that occurred with the newly minted independent driver: She drove into the carport and did not stop when she got close to the back wall. Crashing into the sheet rock and busting the hot water heater that was in the storage room on the other side of the wall. My guess is that she meant to apply the brake and pressed on the accelerator instead. It was definitely not the first occasion for her driving into the carport, as she had been practicing for a year with a 'learner's permit'. It just happened and there we sat, stunned at the results.
That's what you have insurance for, right?
I relayed the Cliff's Notes version of this story to the balloon customer, and said the lesson to be learned from the tale was fairly simple. I recommended that she just not let the daughter drive all the way into the carport. Tell her 'just stop right here, I will move it later', as protection against having to purchase a brand new water heater! I'm glad we can all laugh about it now, as it was sad and pretty traumatic when it happened. Thankful we do not have PTSD from an exploding water heater...
I was at work last Sunday, talking to a customer as I filled the balloons she wanted for a birthday party. I noticed one of the Mylars she wanted had 'sweet sixteen' on it, and thought of daughters who are so excited about getting driving permits. Teenagers thinking of that time when they pass the milestone, reach the age of thinking they are capable of independent driving. I told the customer I had a story to tell her, that was not amusing when it happened, but now so far in the past the daughter willingly tells it on herself.
The day she turned sixteen and got her license to drive was a Wednesday. I know that because we attended a mid-week dinner at church, and she asked if she could drive home. Which was not a big deal, because I would be in the passenger seat, and her younger sister would be along as well. I don't recall if I was the cook/kitchen worker, but it has been so long ago I think not. We just went to eat, have a short program and go home. Leaving her dad at church for choir practice, with daughters needing to finish school work and get to bed.
I am still, after nearly twenty years, not sure just exactly what happened when we got home. But there was an accident that occurred with the newly minted independent driver: She drove into the carport and did not stop when she got close to the back wall. Crashing into the sheet rock and busting the hot water heater that was in the storage room on the other side of the wall. My guess is that she meant to apply the brake and pressed on the accelerator instead. It was definitely not the first occasion for her driving into the carport, as she had been practicing for a year with a 'learner's permit'. It just happened and there we sat, stunned at the results.
That's what you have insurance for, right?
I relayed the Cliff's Notes version of this story to the balloon customer, and said the lesson to be learned from the tale was fairly simple. I recommended that she just not let the daughter drive all the way into the carport. Tell her 'just stop right here, I will move it later', as protection against having to purchase a brand new water heater! I'm glad we can all laugh about it now, as it was sad and pretty traumatic when it happened. Thankful we do not have PTSD from an exploding water heater...
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