The religion of helping

Stealing a friend's facebook status from Friday - this is why New York is the greatest city:

having a typical NYC morning: -dog (pit bull?) being walked, wearing sunglasses -monk walking down 1st Ave -asked if I knew how to get to Riker's Island. maybe you're not a real New Yorker until you know how to get to Riker's Island

(Riker's island is where NYC's jail is located)

To add my story also from Friday morning: walking to work, I stopped by a vegetable/fruit vendor on the Upper East Side. There were $1 boxes of strawberries! It was a really windy day and as I got my change back, a dollar bill nearly flew out of hand. This somehow triggered a conversation with the man selling the strawberries to me. He asked me if I was Turkish (this happened in English, so surely he didn't believe for one second that I was indeed, Turkish), no, I told him, I was from Hungary... "Szervusz, hogy vagy?" (Hello, how are you?) "Budapest is so beautiful, such a romantic city." Turned out he was a history teacher, gave me the short version of how Hungarians and Turks really came from the same place, we are practically the same people. Then there was the issue of do I want to go back home and the puzzled look I usually get from Europeans when I tell them no, not really. Long discussion about the silly things in the US, why I wouldn't want to go back to my own country, blah blah blah. I wouldn't even have considered this encounter noteworthy but then we started talking about something else. He very bluntly asked me if I was religious (it's pretty rare here, where people are so politically correct and conscious of such different religious beliefs, the fact that it's not really talked about I think is for the best). Again, he seemed surprised by my answer. He thought for a while, and then said that when I am older, I should go back to my home country for a year and help poor, old, sick people (for simplicity's sake, I told him I was a doctor). That should be my religion. I really liked that. Helping people should be a religion.

The feminist in me

Last weekend I ran a women's only half marathon in Central Park. It wasn't my best race; I hadn't slept quite enough the couple of nights leading up to Sunday, spent the entire day on Saturday standing up, and it was already getting a bit warm - although nothing like the 89F temperature on Monday for poor Boston marathoners! For some time now I have noticed that my race bib numbers are very low. Meaning that I am always in a faster corral at the start than I feel comfortable with. Finally I checked on the NYRR website and for some reason they have me down to have run a 4 mile race last year in 7:15 min/mile. To be honest, I didn't even run that race! Never even registered for it. I figured it might be more trouble than it's worth to try to get this fixed (my real fastest mile is around 7:45, which is close enough I suppose). For this past weekend's race, my number was in the 300's, wow, very low, in fact, I felt a little self-conscious at the start of the race when people are checking each other out... I wanted to say to women with numbers in the 5-6000s that No No No I wasn't that fast, don't worry, I am not one of those really good people. Because when I see someone with a number in the 300s, I always think Wow, look at those serious runners!

But in fact, I just checked my result and I was in fact in the first 1000 finishers (not quite 3-400) out of over 7000, which is not so bad for someone who doesn't train seriously nor cares about these things. Ok, maybe a little, it does feel good to be getting faster, even if just a little bit. With that, I also broke down and just registered for NYC 2012! I do find it absolutely outrageous that the price of the marathon registration has gone up so much this year and for a while contemplated protesting it by not running this year, but who am I really kidding? Come the first Sunday in November and if I am not on Staten Island by 9am, I would feel really left out, even if those last few miles are just absolute hell - maybe this year it'll be different :) anyway, it's all worth it for the atmosphere that day. And Daniel will be coming all the way from London to run, so I really have no excuse.

What I actually wanted to write about was not running per se, but this idea of having a women's only race. I wouldn't call myself a feminist by any means, but participating in these races always makes me feel a certain way about being a woman, more so than any other situation - except maybe when I hear conservative American politicians speak about their ideas about women; that would turn even me into a fiery feminist! I don't often think about how lucky I am to have been born in this age when nearly all things are open to women. Not too long ago I heard Katherine Switzer, the first woman to officially finish a marathon, speak at a race. It was not that long ago, in 1967, that she entered the Boston marathon pretending to be a man and was nearly kicked out of it by the race director at mile 4. Her boyfriend apparently wrestled the guy and she managed to finish the race unharmed. Some idiots even believed that running a marathon would cause a woman's uterus to fall out. I wonder if men ever worried that giving birth might result in the uterus falling out.

Even now, equality isn't complete and I am not sure it ever will be. Last year's NYC marathon had only 17,000 female finishers out of 47,000 total. And let's not even talk about a certain golf club in this country that does not allow women to become members. I think I am not a feminist because I have been given the same if not greater opportunities by life so far than any man can claim. That's true for athletics as well as education and any other area of life. I have never felt like I was at a disadvantage because of my gender. Ok, that's not entirely true, but it was never something that affected me in any serious way.

The way things are today, we really have to thank the strong women who have come before us, like Katherine Switzer, who had stood up to ignorant and arrogant men to show them that they were just as if not more capable in nearly anything. And the strong women everywhere who each contributed something in their own ways. Like my Grandma, Babi. I think about her a lot these. days. She is almost 90 and sadly has very bad dementia. She is such a strong person, even now, she has this will to live, it's incredible. She was absolutely born too early. I just recently found out from my Mom that back in the 40's when my Babi was just 20 or so, she insisted on working as a secretary in an office in the small town they lived despite her father having had different plans for her - the usual: marry, have children, be a housewife. She wanted to be something, to work! And how outrageous that was! But lucky for me - and my Mom - since she met my Grandpa there - he was a lawyer. Just a few years later, already pregnant with my Mom, her husband fighting in the war in Germany, she traveled halfway across Europe fleeing from one army and chasing another - from the Eastern border of Hungary to Frankfurt, which explains my Mom's strange birthplace, Bad Nauheim, during the last months of WWII.

I have this beautiful photo from my grandparents' wedding: my Dedi in his military uniform, Babi in a very pretty modest white dress, with beautiful flowers. It's black and white, of course. From 1942 I think. She was just 20. They weren't smiling. But they look very happy. My Mom says he was a very gentle man. I don't remember him very much. But I sometimes imagine if she had all the same opportunities that I do today. What would she have done? Would she have become a doctor, a lawyer? Would she have had three children? I wish I could ask her.

What's your reason to visit the ER today?

Last night was unusually quiet at the ER. Not that anybody ever complains about that, maybe the volunteers. Standing around with the charge nurse, we were looking on the computer at the list of people waiting outside. Only a few. I have worked with her on several occasions and she is quite cynical. Loves to make fun of the people who come in for stupid non-issues. I always imagined this happened; the only time I went to an ER as a patient, I was pretty sure that the nurses were laughing at me, having come in because something was in my eye. Having suffered a scratched cornea, I felt somewhat better about myself, after all I had somewhat of a real problem - only later did it occur to me that it most likely wasn't the object in my eye that scratched my cornea, rather, the hard plastic tubing they used to pour saline in my eye for two hours. Ever since that - and since starting to volunteer at an ER - I have been a firm believer that you should under no circumstances go to the ER unless you are in fact dying, bleeding uncontrollably or have a body part detached.

Ok, so last night, one patient in the waiting room complained of a hurting foot. He also requested a cane. This happens quite often: older people sometimes living in shelters need something like a cane, a warm place to sit, some dinner. I can sympathize. With this particular gentleman, the interesting thing was that when his name was called, he didn't answer - no, he wasn't deaf - and only later when I became suspicious and checked his wrist tag did I realize that he just wanted to sit in the waiting room, probably knowing all too well that he would be discharged in no time after actually having seen a doctor.

But the highlight of the evening came a little later. I went to get a patient from the waiting room who was to go to one of the rooms designated as the gynecology exam room. Even though she had one of those ambiguous names, I didn't even look to confirm the sex since she was going to the Gyn room. Pretty obvious. However, I was quite a bit confused when she answered my calling her name; she looked like a man. Oh well, that happens. As I escorted her to her room, we passed the nurse's station and the charge nurse gave me a puzzled look. I just put up my hands and mouthed the words "I dunno". When I came back she asked if I had double checked her name. Yup. Then she motioned me closer to her screen and opened up the patient's admission file. "Read this!" Under reason for being in the ER stood this sentence: on patients last visit to the ER 5 months ago (!), she took a pregnancy test which was positive, she is back to check if she is still pregnant.

I just have three things to say:
1. Einstein said it best: Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the the universe.
2. Some people should not have children!
3. Every politician - no matter what side of the aisle they are from - should be required to spend a few nights in his or her local emergency room before they were even allowed to open their mouths about issues such as social services, reproductive rights, abortion and most importantly, health care reform!

Beers, balls and wood decorations

Life sometimes resembles a Sex and the City episode.

3 girls, all around 30, at a meatball and beer tasting (Beer 'n Balls) in Manhattan, standing around, checking out the group next to them, wondering out-loud if the gorgeous guy who invited them is gay or not. One of them pulls up pictures of him on her phone from his modeling agency (he must know of these photos, I hope). The three of them drool over the perfect and shiny six-packs. Suddenly he is standing behind one of them, looking at what they are giggling about. The screen is quickly turned off, more giggling, silly explanations. Did he see or did he not? Is he gay or is he not? Are we 12 or are we 30?

Some time later, they walk into a bar, find a table, sit down, look around. He notices the elaborate decorations on the wood that lines the walls of the bar and mentions their uniqueness. Yup, he's gay. Dammit! Those abs I bet would be nice in real life too!

Brainy

After all, mind is such an odd predicament for matter to get into. I often marvel how something like hydrogen, the simplest atom, forged in some early chaos of the universe, could lead us and the gorgeous forever into consciousness. If a mind is just a few pounds of blood, dream and electric, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the heart? What is mind, that one can be out of one’s? How can a neuron feel compassion? What is self? Why did automatic, hand-me-down mammals like our ancestors somehow evolve brains with the ability to consider, imagine, project, compare, abstract, think of the future? If our experience of mind is really just the simmering of an easily alterable chemical stew, then what does it mean to know something, to want something, to be? How do you begin with hydrogen and end up with prom dresses, jealousy, chamber music? What is music that it can satisfy a mind, and even perhaps function as language?

by Diane Ackerman

What a nice poetic-scientific mixture! I heard it at a Neuroscience lecture I went to earlier this week. Lately I've been indulging the nerd within and been going to some science lectures in my free time. Here is a sign that I shouldn't stay in research: I am often more interested in fields far removed from mine - Immunology - right now I am in this phase of fascination with the brain. The talk this week was more of a debate, between two Neuroscientists who believe two very different approaches for studying neurons. One of them thinks we should focus on studying the connections between neurons - the Connectome - while the other believes in looking more closely at individual neurons and studying what's going on inside them. Or at least that's the very simplified idea I got from the lecture.

Last week, I happened to fend myself at yet another talk about the brain: it was a lecture by the Nobel laureate Eric Kandel - he won the price for being one of the people who first described neurons to be responsible for memory storage. Pretty cool stuff. He's about 80 years old but looked as fit as a 40 some year old. It's really worth reading his autobiography on the Nobel website; it's a brief history of 1930's Vienna, WWII, immigrants in New York, etc. He's a great writer; no surprise a book of his has just been published, titled THE AGE OF INSIGHT: The Quest to Understand the Unconscious in Art, Mind, and Brain, From Vienna 1900 to the Present. I just find people who have such varying interests - from hardcore bench science through history to art - so fascinating. I wonder if he ever goes to Immunology lectures.

Yesterday I had a meeting with my boss. For the first time in months I was actually excited to show him some new data, which looked pretty nice and consistent, wow, consistent results?? What the hell are those? Haven't seen any in, umm, I can't even remember how long! His reaction: Well, you know I don't care for mice. Well, my whole project being based in mice, fuck you! He is the kind of scientist who gets obsessive about a certain issue. Right now that issue is what's called epigenetics. The idea is that beyond the sequence of our DNA (genes) there is so much more going on in the genome. So much we don't understand. DNA is wrapped around these molecular structures called nucleosomes and those are super dynamic. And we understand very little about what it means when those structures change and what the consequences are for how genes are expressed and regulated. It's obviously a fascinating area of research, but I have some conceptual problems with it. Without going into those, I can just say that I am more interested in what's going on in a whole organ; rather than looking at the minute little changes that happen inside the nucleus. Because ultimately, we are pretty far from having any clue as to what the biological significance of those changes are. Until then, I'd like to work with mice. As close as we can get to something physiological these days.

But anyhow, back to my boss' comment. He is currently obsessed with epigenetics and our whole lab is quickly moving towards that field. Which is totally fine, especially that I am leaving in a couple of months. But it would still be nice if he could show some slight interest in other topics that are also relevant to his work. That are going on in his lab. At least lie. Just a little white lie. "Ooh, that looks interesting, yes, you should pursue that lead." Something along those lines. But no. Just a yawn. That was the best he could do. Countdown to my last day in the lab: 69 days!

Cherry blossoms, or lack thereof, pink mimosas and the nice side of New Yorkers

Wow, I am tired. And it's only Tuesday. Friends staying over is exhausting. Especially when it's someone you've known for 18 years but haven't seen in a couple! So much to catch up on, sleep becomes less of a priority. Then the timing was bad: I was already planning a trip to Washington for the annual Cherry Blossom 10 miler with David, also to visit Rachel. So I took an early morning bus on Saturday (it's a horrible idea if you might want to actually be awake most of that day); spent the afternoon walking around the city, checking out the International Spy Museum (it was pretty cool, except that I could hardly keep my eyes open); had a wonderful home-cooked dinner (thanks so much to Dave!); watched Return of the Jedi; slept very little,;ate an entire bagel with nutella and bananas 2 hours before a 10 mile race; ran the Cherry Blossom 10 miler (without any cherry blossoms, damn you early summer, which gave way to winter again); ate another wonderful home-cooked meal; drank pink grapefruit mimosas; then got on a bus back to New York. Exhausting. But a great weekend!

I mean look at this: on our way to the race, we saw these quite famous buildings - Good morning, Mr. President! I bet he's awake by at least 6am every day.





The race itself was hard. I felt the lack of sleep. I was achy, my legs felt very heavy the whole time, unlike 2 weeks ago at the NYC half: I felt so light then. But again, I am at a point in my running where even on a bad day, 10 miles are tolerable, even enjoyable at times. Around mile 9, on the side of the road, there was a man lying on the ground, a paramedic performing CPR on him. I looked over just for a second and then passed. I have no idea what happened to him - I can only assume that no news is good news, and that they brought him back - but I was thinking, as I was finishing that last mile of the race, how little separates life from death. A beating heart. One moment it is beating, the next, it stops. Every moment we have while it's beating should be appreciated fully. Even if everything hurts and those legs feel so heavy and that finish line is not getting any closer. In those moments especially, I feel so alive, I can feel every inch of my body.

On the bus ride home, I basically lost consciousness. I woke up somewhere in Jersey; David was pretty amazed that I had managed to sleep so deeply for more than 3 hours. We started talking, I just took my headphones off and god knows what I did with my iPod. Bottom line is, it stayed on the bus. I realized when I was getting on the subway, already 7 blocks from where the bus dropped us off, too late to do anything about it. I was too tired to care anyway. I tried looking up some number for the bus company when I got home, but since it was already midnight and a Sunday night, I decided that it could wait till the morning. When I woke up a few hours later to the alarm I accidentally left on from Saturday morning (yup, at 5:40) I got this email from a wonderful New Yorker:

Hi Julie:

i found your Ipod left on megabus this evening. How would you like to arrange this? would u like to pick up from me at my work place or you can prepare shipping label so i mail it to your address.

Some days, it seems that everybody in New York is self absorbed, only looking out for themselves. And then there are people like this nice lady I met today. A waitress at a small sushi restaurant in Midtown, clearly not wealthy, an immigrant like myself. But I was so touched by her kindness. It's nice to know there are people like that left in this city, in this world. Part of me wishes I find something valuable one of these days and get a chance to make someone's day by returning it. Pay it forward. It's still a great concept, always will be.