I remember the story of "9-enders" (aged twenty-nine, thirty-nine, fifty-nine) who are much more enthusiastic to run their first marathon. In many ways, the left-digit bias reinforces our tendency to categorize continuous variables on the basis of the left-most numeric digit.
The susceptibility of our brains to fall into the trap of heuristics or hard-wired mental shortcuts is common. It can affect many of us. And we (and by we I mean runners, customers, parents, and doctors) tend to be affected without being aware of the cognitive biases.
Hey, I just found out doctors are also making clinical decisions with left-digit bias. For those of you who think high-tech physicians are awesome in calculating the risk-benefit trade-off to manage patients with acute heart attack, go and read the recent issue of the New England Journal of Medicine. Based on data of patients who were admitted to hospital with acute myocardial infarction over six years, those admitted in the 2 weeks after their 80th birthday were significantly less likely to undergo bypass surgery than those who were admitted in the 2 weeks before their 80th birthday.
The creepy reason of your being turned down for a life-saving heart surgery, in short, could have simply been the way you're categorized as being "in your 80s" rather than "in your 70s", and that, in turn, is a matter of few weeks' difference in your birthday.
Amen.
Friday, February 28, 2020
Sunday, February 23, 2020
Marathon
First, a disclaimer. After reading this blog, you don't have to follow my type of "workouts."
Entertaining the thought of prescribing the same training intensity for runners, as I have recently learned from reading Hansons First Marathon, is the surefire way to let old injury rear its ugly head. Overzealous goal means taking two steps back for every step forward.
Yes. I asked myself question to get a clearer handle on my natural abilities. That's going to differ for individual. Let me say, with all the moderation I can summon: I am destined to work with minimal requirement of calories and drinks.
That is a crucial reason for my natural proclivity to work in the hospital high-risk areas where patients with suspected or confirmed coronavirus infection are staying. To handle the outbreak, doctors working with these patients are advised to wear the protective N95 masks. They're designed to protect both healthcare workers and patients, but are now in short supply. When I wear the N95 mask, I don't have to discard it after seeing each patient as long as it isn't contaminated or soiled. With little personal need to eat or drink during working hours myself, I have not much need to replace the mask. The truth is, I worked for almost ten hours yesterday with one single N95 mask.
This is not to say, of course, that we should be frivolous about infection control. Nor is my story meant to suggest that we permit hazardous working environment. Rather, this reminds us that each and everyone of us can check how to contribute in his or her own manner.
Know yourself. At your own pace. Don't force others to follow.
Entertaining the thought of prescribing the same training intensity for runners, as I have recently learned from reading Hansons First Marathon, is the surefire way to let old injury rear its ugly head. Overzealous goal means taking two steps back for every step forward.
Yes. I asked myself question to get a clearer handle on my natural abilities. That's going to differ for individual. Let me say, with all the moderation I can summon: I am destined to work with minimal requirement of calories and drinks.
That is a crucial reason for my natural proclivity to work in the hospital high-risk areas where patients with suspected or confirmed coronavirus infection are staying. To handle the outbreak, doctors working with these patients are advised to wear the protective N95 masks. They're designed to protect both healthcare workers and patients, but are now in short supply. When I wear the N95 mask, I don't have to discard it after seeing each patient as long as it isn't contaminated or soiled. With little personal need to eat or drink during working hours myself, I have not much need to replace the mask. The truth is, I worked for almost ten hours yesterday with one single N95 mask.
This is not to say, of course, that we should be frivolous about infection control. Nor is my story meant to suggest that we permit hazardous working environment. Rather, this reminds us that each and everyone of us can check how to contribute in his or her own manner.
Know yourself. At your own pace. Don't force others to follow.
Sunday, February 9, 2020
Ventilation
Has the thought ever crossed your mind that you might have been ruled by a government getting every opportunity to fracture the relationship with the citizens? Me neither. Not until now.
The city I grew up in had been smashed.
I do not remember since when we'd been having a dreary and oppressive sense of being suffocated by tear gas. Nothing ever had been tried to restore the order and trust - except you count closing things. The government closed train and traffic service. Next, they closed their eyes. And then ears.
That's smart, and you'd be fine … if you're kept in the dark. Unfortunately, the government have closed almost everything except the border checkpoints. When a deadly coronavirus is circulating in Wuhan, our government closes everything - ears and eyes included - except complete closing of traffic from China to minimize the risk of spreading coronavirus.
One might think that a government should work endlessly to safeguard the citizens' rights, rights that belong to them, rights to live, rights to live without fear. But not here. Not even when the number of confirmed coronavirus cases has gone up more then tenfold in a week. Not even when thousands of medical workers went on strike in an attempt to force the border closing.
To this day I have no idea how all these could have happened to us.
Trust in one's government, after all, is the worst to lose, is it not?
The city I grew up in had been smashed.
I do not remember since when we'd been having a dreary and oppressive sense of being suffocated by tear gas. Nothing ever had been tried to restore the order and trust - except you count closing things. The government closed train and traffic service. Next, they closed their eyes. And then ears.
That's smart, and you'd be fine … if you're kept in the dark. Unfortunately, the government have closed almost everything except the border checkpoints. When a deadly coronavirus is circulating in Wuhan, our government closes everything - ears and eyes included - except complete closing of traffic from China to minimize the risk of spreading coronavirus.
One might think that a government should work endlessly to safeguard the citizens' rights, rights that belong to them, rights to live, rights to live without fear. But not here. Not even when the number of confirmed coronavirus cases has gone up more then tenfold in a week. Not even when thousands of medical workers went on strike in an attempt to force the border closing.
To this day I have no idea how all these could have happened to us.
Trust in one's government, after all, is the worst to lose, is it not?
Sunday, February 2, 2020
Marsh
“What comes after twenty-nine?”
That’s a question raised by Kya, a thirteen-year-old girl who knew more about tides, snow geese and eagles than counting to thirty.
I was reading Where the Crawdads Sing on my Portugal trip, during which we had birdwatching activity at the Tagus estuary, a wetland area similar to where Kya grew up. She learned layers of life - squiggly sand crabs, mud-waddling crayfish, waterfowl - but not a single word because she didn’t attend school.
Kya was abandoned by her mum, siblings one by one and then her dad, shouldering all chores - this little piggy went to market.
No one would take care of Kya. Except herself.
The only way she could make ends meet was to slip out with a bucket and claw knife in the wee hours, squatting in mud to collect mussels. To stay ahead of the other mussel pickers, Kya headed to the marsh by candle or moon, and even added oysters to her catch.
That’s real tough mussel money to earn. I can't imagine how I could have survived in her shoes. Oh, by the way, she walked barefoot and could not afford shoes.
Which is why most of us have a love-hate with helicopter parenting style. A matter of independence versus hyper-sheltering. Honestly, most parents never really want to be too harsh. And who wishes to raise a Kya? I don't either. And fair enough. But it's be irrevocably satisfying, perhaps even gratifying, to see my daughter waking up around seven every morning cooking breakfast during our Portugal stay.
That’s a question raised by Kya, a thirteen-year-old girl who knew more about tides, snow geese and eagles than counting to thirty.
I was reading Where the Crawdads Sing on my Portugal trip, during which we had birdwatching activity at the Tagus estuary, a wetland area similar to where Kya grew up. She learned layers of life - squiggly sand crabs, mud-waddling crayfish, waterfowl - but not a single word because she didn’t attend school.
Kya was abandoned by her mum, siblings one by one and then her dad, shouldering all chores - this little piggy went to market.
No one would take care of Kya. Except herself.
The only way she could make ends meet was to slip out with a bucket and claw knife in the wee hours, squatting in mud to collect mussels. To stay ahead of the other mussel pickers, Kya headed to the marsh by candle or moon, and even added oysters to her catch.
That’s real tough mussel money to earn. I can't imagine how I could have survived in her shoes. Oh, by the way, she walked barefoot and could not afford shoes.
Which is why most of us have a love-hate with helicopter parenting style. A matter of independence versus hyper-sheltering. Honestly, most parents never really want to be too harsh. And who wishes to raise a Kya? I don't either. And fair enough. But it's be irrevocably satisfying, perhaps even gratifying, to see my daughter waking up around seven every morning cooking breakfast during our Portugal stay.
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