"I've never known anybody who didn't have a skeleton or two in their closet," writes Robert Fulghum, noting that there are always those things we don't want to talk to anybody about.
It is true that all of us have a few demons being locked somewhere in a closet or drawer. Fulghum, the American author who wrote All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, explains that shame, guilt, and embarrassment are the locks on the closet door. I have long been wishing for a secret recipe to erase the demons, and I have always felt it to be just as well for me to clean up the lockers other than mine - I'm responsible for at least dozens of demons hiding in others' closets.
It's not hard to understand my excitement when I read about a memory molecule that appears in a recent edition of the scientific journal Nature. Researchers have discovered ways to manipulate a protein in the rats' hippocampus to enhance or diminish memory. This means that the scientists are able to deliver electric shocks to rats on entering a particular entrance to a box, but then erase their bitter memories of the shock.
Another way of making sense of the science is to develop a novel target for cognitive enhancement therapy. If you want people to keep remembering a story, you can. The question remains: Do we?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Good Morning
I used to work in the hospital till late hours. But not now. To a new father, eager to see his daughter, being at home is the only way to make the day count.
If you thought I'm getting lazy, I would have answered, "Quite the opposite." And I would have added, "If that surprises you, it surprises me, as well."
Lest I be misunderstood, let me make it clear that the longer we stay at workplace doesn't necessarily mean the more we would have accomplished. This is often the case when we keep taking breaks to play Farmville.
The truth is that I'm making better use of the morning hours. Often I need my alarm clock to wake me up. Hey! But then the miracle happens when I get up and start my morning rituals, and one thing leads to another, and eventually, before eight forty-five, I find myself calm and satisfied. By then, I should have had my morning coffee, thumbed through a few pages of medical journals, read my mentor's blog, entered quite a few ticks in my diary's to-do-list.
Now, see, I got time to write a blog this morning.
If you thought I'm getting lazy, I would have answered, "Quite the opposite." And I would have added, "If that surprises you, it surprises me, as well."
Lest I be misunderstood, let me make it clear that the longer we stay at workplace doesn't necessarily mean the more we would have accomplished. This is often the case when we keep taking breaks to play Farmville.
The truth is that I'm making better use of the morning hours. Often I need my alarm clock to wake me up. Hey! But then the miracle happens when I get up and start my morning rituals, and one thing leads to another, and eventually, before eight forty-five, I find myself calm and satisfied. By then, I should have had my morning coffee, thumbed through a few pages of medical journals, read my mentor's blog, entered quite a few ticks in my diary's to-do-list.
Now, see, I got time to write a blog this morning.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Silver lining
Teaching our children has always been more by trial and error than science, but that has been pursued for some time, at least in experiment.
Think about a beautiful example done at Temple University in Philadelphia some years ago. The parents of a 4-year-old girl invited a research team to their home. The two professors explained to the little girl that she will get a prize at the end of their visit. This is just what they did, handing out 10 potential "prizes" and asking the girl to rank them from the best prize to the worst prize. Right before the girl, she found a truck, a doll, a broken pair of sunglasses, a pair of socks, and so forth. She was deliriously joyful at this game because she was told further that she will get the prize she liked the best.
The girl zeroed in on Barbie, and happily waited for the moment to receive the best prize. Yeah (drum roll please), and wait - oops. Something wrong. The researchers explained that they had made a mistake and they had to give the girl that she ranked as dead last - a pair of brown socks.
"Sorry for this big mistake."
Now, how does the parent help the child cope with this disappointing news? And this is the real research question.
What will you do? Before I tell you the answer, take a few minutes to think about the possible ways out.
Do you shift your girl's attention away from the socks toward the nice wrapping the prize came in? Do you comfort your girl by holding her or verbally soothing her? Do you "reframe" the situation, putting the socks on your hands and making them into a puppet or suggesting you give the socks to another kid who might really like them? Do you encourage your girl to change the situation, say, by talking to the researchers and telling them that she got the wrong prize?
Of all the options above, none are more positive than shifting the girl's attention and cognitive reframing. The effect of looking more closely at every cloud, to see the silver lining, is riveting. This is, in fact, associated with the lowest level of sadness and anger. If you think you are helping the child who was encouraged to change the situation by talking to the researchers, nothing could be further from the truth. That would lead to more anger and sadness than those in other conditions. The child would simply lose the ability to regulate her emotion in a positive way, directing herself to vent and lash out, instead.
Taking another perspective to look at adversity can always be a new opportunity. Whining never is.
Think about a beautiful example done at Temple University in Philadelphia some years ago. The parents of a 4-year-old girl invited a research team to their home. The two professors explained to the little girl that she will get a prize at the end of their visit. This is just what they did, handing out 10 potential "prizes" and asking the girl to rank them from the best prize to the worst prize. Right before the girl, she found a truck, a doll, a broken pair of sunglasses, a pair of socks, and so forth. She was deliriously joyful at this game because she was told further that she will get the prize she liked the best.
The girl zeroed in on Barbie, and happily waited for the moment to receive the best prize. Yeah (drum roll please), and wait - oops. Something wrong. The researchers explained that they had made a mistake and they had to give the girl that she ranked as dead last - a pair of brown socks.
"Sorry for this big mistake."
Now, how does the parent help the child cope with this disappointing news? And this is the real research question.
What will you do? Before I tell you the answer, take a few minutes to think about the possible ways out.
Do you shift your girl's attention away from the socks toward the nice wrapping the prize came in? Do you comfort your girl by holding her or verbally soothing her? Do you "reframe" the situation, putting the socks on your hands and making them into a puppet or suggesting you give the socks to another kid who might really like them? Do you encourage your girl to change the situation, say, by talking to the researchers and telling them that she got the wrong prize?
Of all the options above, none are more positive than shifting the girl's attention and cognitive reframing. The effect of looking more closely at every cloud, to see the silver lining, is riveting. This is, in fact, associated with the lowest level of sadness and anger. If you think you are helping the child who was encouraged to change the situation by talking to the researchers, nothing could be further from the truth. That would lead to more anger and sadness than those in other conditions. The child would simply lose the ability to regulate her emotion in a positive way, directing herself to vent and lash out, instead.
Taking another perspective to look at adversity can always be a new opportunity. Whining never is.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Emotional Intelligence
By any reasonable standard, no doctor would like to be called back to the hospital in the middle of the night. But some of them can't be judged by any reasonable standard.
Last night I went to see a 92-year-old woman who has been bleeding from the ulcer in her digestive tract. My guess was that I might have to ask someone to perform an upper endoscopy procedure to help that anaemic patient. Probably it's the most helpful means to control bleeding through a flexible tube going all the way from the mouth to the first part of the small intestine. But that's quite impossible – her doctors have tried this way for three times within one week but to no avail. Strictly, however, she wasn't fit enough for us to take her to the operating room.
I hesitated for a moment, and then phoned up the radiologist team. They had already attempted more than once to put a tube into her blood vessel in the leg and thread it up to block the bleeding artery near the stomach. My classmate radiologist barely flinched when I told him the story. "Prepare her for the third angiography," my classmate told me, "and I'll be back within an hour."
To give you a sense of what it's like for a radiologist to perform the angiography, imagine yourself wearing a sturdy apron made of lead (instead of cloth) and standing for an hour in front of a monitor. But wait: the monitor isn't as colourful as the Wii video games; it is a maze of black-and-white pictures where the radiologist navigates with the wires. So how can the radiologist go without getting lost in the maze? Hardly. They get lost as often as a puppeteer gets his strings entangled. Skill isn't enough. A radiologist can lose his way during the angiography but cannot lose his temper. That's the easiest to lose and the hardest to survive without. When my classmate found his way to the target artery, I was amazed to find that he couldn't go further because of the machine breakdown. More amazing still: he was perfectly composed to finish the task with his bare hands instead of the machine.
I was amazed. Even now.
Last night I went to see a 92-year-old woman who has been bleeding from the ulcer in her digestive tract. My guess was that I might have to ask someone to perform an upper endoscopy procedure to help that anaemic patient. Probably it's the most helpful means to control bleeding through a flexible tube going all the way from the mouth to the first part of the small intestine. But that's quite impossible – her doctors have tried this way for three times within one week but to no avail. Strictly, however, she wasn't fit enough for us to take her to the operating room.
I hesitated for a moment, and then phoned up the radiologist team. They had already attempted more than once to put a tube into her blood vessel in the leg and thread it up to block the bleeding artery near the stomach. My classmate radiologist barely flinched when I told him the story. "Prepare her for the third angiography," my classmate told me, "and I'll be back within an hour."
To give you a sense of what it's like for a radiologist to perform the angiography, imagine yourself wearing a sturdy apron made of lead (instead of cloth) and standing for an hour in front of a monitor. But wait: the monitor isn't as colourful as the Wii video games; it is a maze of black-and-white pictures where the radiologist navigates with the wires. So how can the radiologist go without getting lost in the maze? Hardly. They get lost as often as a puppeteer gets his strings entangled. Skill isn't enough. A radiologist can lose his way during the angiography but cannot lose his temper. That's the easiest to lose and the hardest to survive without. When my classmate found his way to the target artery, I was amazed to find that he couldn't go further because of the machine breakdown. More amazing still: he was perfectly composed to finish the task with his bare hands instead of the machine.
I was amazed. Even now.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Toddler
When it comes to the gene pool, there must be a chromosome that makes us read while we're walking. This is exactly what my daughter gets from me.
And, yeah, that's what I had been told: Baby walking, both in the time and the style, is as unique as personality. Sure-footedness, of course, isn't characteristic of my daughter, age 1 (which is why she is called a toddler). Being a fledgling toddler, Jasmine is eager to move around the room. That's pretty much every other new walkers does. But when it comes to her cruise control and reading mode, I can't help laughing.
"Oh, no, be careful," I told Jasmine when I saw her pick up a book or an instructional manual to "read" whilst she was making her way across the living room. Mind you, I didn't stop her from doing her style of walking-cum-reading trip. After all, her father does similar feat all the time.
And, yeah, that's what I had been told: Baby walking, both in the time and the style, is as unique as personality. Sure-footedness, of course, isn't characteristic of my daughter, age 1 (which is why she is called a toddler). Being a fledgling toddler, Jasmine is eager to move around the room. That's pretty much every other new walkers does. But when it comes to her cruise control and reading mode, I can't help laughing.
"Oh, no, be careful," I told Jasmine when I saw her pick up a book or an instructional manual to "read" whilst she was making her way across the living room. Mind you, I didn't stop her from doing her style of walking-cum-reading trip. After all, her father does similar feat all the time.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Yes
I couldn't believe it when my brother brought me the book Difficult Conversations, before he knew that I'm going to take a mediation training course this month. This book might not be new to you, but in case it is I should say that it comes from the same group who wrote Getting to Yes.
Think about the last time you felt the urge to get your boss, your spouse, your friends or colleagues to say yes. It's no secret that today many of us feel that it's harder to negotiate and to foster a supportive environment when we need it most. It hurts.
Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking (after reading my last blog). And you're wrong. No, I am not learning to negotiate with my daughter. The truth is, believe me, a toddler is the most simple friend to go along with. What could be easier than to ask a toddler to say yes? Take a moment to teach a toddler to say yes or nod her head. Well, she might not follow - or she might just shake her head. Now, forget the teaching and simply play with a creative mind. Any imaginative game works; it really does. We showed Jasmine a little fairy Unazukin, a Japanese doll who reacts to voice by nodding and shaking her head. She loves that game. After talking to Unazukin and, hey presto, Jasmine learned to nod.
Think about the last time you felt the urge to get your boss, your spouse, your friends or colleagues to say yes. It's no secret that today many of us feel that it's harder to negotiate and to foster a supportive environment when we need it most. It hurts.
Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking (after reading my last blog). And you're wrong. No, I am not learning to negotiate with my daughter. The truth is, believe me, a toddler is the most simple friend to go along with. What could be easier than to ask a toddler to say yes? Take a moment to teach a toddler to say yes or nod her head. Well, she might not follow - or she might just shake her head. Now, forget the teaching and simply play with a creative mind. Any imaginative game works; it really does. We showed Jasmine a little fairy Unazukin, a Japanese doll who reacts to voice by nodding and shaking her head. She loves that game. After talking to Unazukin and, hey presto, Jasmine learned to nod.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Yes or No
Toddlers love to give "no" for an answer, and my daughter is no exception.
My nephew Ethan learned this fact when he came from the States to visit Jasmine. "Why does Jasmine shake her head every time I ask if she loves me?" Ethan wondered.
Yeah, when it comes to a one-year-old's way of communication, shaking head is much easier than nodding. I was trying to explain a toddler's difficulty with saying yes. Before I could convince Ethan, I found it difficult to convince myself, too. Many of us think that toddler is the only creature to keep saying no, but nothing could be further from truth.
As we grow up, we get glued to the answer "no." Saying yes has become an act of extreme courage, even for adults. Long before we could remember it, the all-purpose "No!" has ruled this world. If you don't believe me, ask your spouse (or your child) to keep a diary for one week and count the times you agree with her ideas. And, would you like to share with me your scores? "No!"
My nephew Ethan learned this fact when he came from the States to visit Jasmine. "Why does Jasmine shake her head every time I ask if she loves me?" Ethan wondered.
Yeah, when it comes to a one-year-old's way of communication, shaking head is much easier than nodding. I was trying to explain a toddler's difficulty with saying yes. Before I could convince Ethan, I found it difficult to convince myself, too. Many of us think that toddler is the only creature to keep saying no, but nothing could be further from truth.
As we grow up, we get glued to the answer "no." Saying yes has become an act of extreme courage, even for adults. Long before we could remember it, the all-purpose "No!" has ruled this world. If you don't believe me, ask your spouse (or your child) to keep a diary for one week and count the times you agree with her ideas. And, would you like to share with me your scores? "No!"
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