Saturday 28 April 2007
Helloo everyone :D
Ok, imagine this:
You are a frail and weak damsel in distress, struggling to walk home with your heavy, bulging schoolbag plus an armful of books. You drop a few books, and dump the bag on the ground to pick them up. Just as you are struggling to heft the bag onto your shoulder again, suddenly, out of nowhere, a shadow falls across you, and a smooth, male voice asks " may I carry that for you?" And you turn around to see this bright light, you seem to hear ambient music playing in the background and the light seems to part to show you this really handsome and good-looking guy, resembling your modern-day knight in shining armour, come to rescue you from the doom and gloom of sucky everyday life :D
Ta-dah!
But then, of course, all your magical imaginings disappear and your hunky knight turns into a bespectacled nerd when, try as he might, he cant get your bag off the ground, and is then forced to carry your wimpy little stack of books while you shoulder the pack. And when Mister Shrimpy and you finally get to your house, and he asks you for your number, you give him a fake one, before slamming the door in his face.
I suppose you must forgive the poor kid, cause after all, he may be suffering from this :
Hypokalemia,also known as potassium deficiency.
Ok, imagine this:
You are a frail and weak damsel in distress, struggling to walk home with your heavy, bulging schoolbag plus an armful of books. You drop a few books, and dump the bag on the ground to pick them up. Just as you are struggling to heft the bag onto your shoulder again, suddenly, out of nowhere, a shadow falls across you, and a smooth, male voice asks " may I carry that for you?" And you turn around to see this bright light, you seem to hear ambient music playing in the background and the light seems to part to show you this really handsome and good-looking guy, resembling your modern-day knight in shining armour, come to rescue you from the doom and gloom of sucky everyday life :D
Ta-dah!
But then, of course, all your magical imaginings disappear and your hunky knight turns into a bespectacled nerd when, try as he might, he cant get your bag off the ground, and is then forced to carry your wimpy little stack of books while you shoulder the pack. And when Mister Shrimpy and you finally get to your house, and he asks you for your number, you give him a fake one, before slamming the door in his face.
I suppose you must forgive the poor kid, cause after all, he may be suffering from this :
Hypokalemia,also known as potassium deficiency.
WARNING :
This does NOT mean that I suggest for all the wimpy guys out there to raid their schools Science labs and gulp down the store of potassium. It will NOT turn you into superman.
Neither will getiing bitten by a mutant spider turn you into Spiderman, but that is another story.
(ok, I know spiderman doesnt dance like this, but I found it freaking hilarious. How could I resist? :D )
Hypokalemia is a potentially FATAL condition where the body fails to retain sufficient, well..............potasssium. (duh) The meaning of the disease can be found in the word Hypokalemia itself. When dissected, hypo means low, not to be confused with the meaning of HYPER, which means high. Kal refers to kalium, which is latin for potassium, while emia means "in the blood" .
Cool eh?
Ok, now to the not-so-cool part. Signs of hypokalemia include Muscle weakness and pain ( the cheem word for muscle pain is myalgia) , disorientation, seizures and disturbed heart rythm. It can be caused by insufficient consumption of potassium,excessive loss of water (It flushes out potassium) through vomiting or diarrhea, consuming certain medications that accelerate the removal of potassium from the body, or by having certain forms of diabetes. A rarer reason could be that it is hereditary.
Since potassium is essential for muscle and nerve activity, we need a way to cure it right :D
The most important step is to stop the vomiting, diarrhea, or offending medication so the patient cannot lose anymore potassium. If it is only a mild case of hypokalmia, it may be treated by taking oral supplements and potassium rich food such as
tomatoes,
oranges
and bananas.
(avoid those in pajamas, of course :D)
But in serious cases, the patient may have to be warded to recieve intravenous supplementation, which is where they stick a needle in your hand and connect it to a bottle of stuff, and in this case, the bottle will contain saline, which is used world-wide to treat hypokalemia. It requires precise doses and intensive monitering, so be prepared for a long hospital stay.
Just a side note, but your pets can get this as well, so make sure they get enough tomatoes, oranges and bananas too :D
Huimei out, after posting 3 times in a row :D
too beautiful ;
13:58;
13:58;
Tuesday 24 April 2007
Just a side note here.
I typed a very long and personal response on the topic of suicide by asphyxiation. It contained a personal anecdote, and a very touching song and was very heart-felt and emotional.
So I deleted it.
It wouldnt do any good to burden all the readers with details of my private life would it :D
Anyway, just to lighten the mood after that confession, I shall post a story that concerns COURAGE :D (Its one of our school values people so pay attention)
Once, a philosophy student was taking his year end exam.The essay question was " What is courage to you?" For three hours, as the other students scribbled frantically away, this student sat there and thought. At the end of the exam, he stood up, handed in his paper, and walked out. Upon opening this students answer paper, the examiner was shocked to find that it was COMPLETELY BLANK. But, as he glanced downwards,right at the bottom of the paper, written in small, neat, letters were the words " This is courage"
The student got an A+.
NOW how cool is that!!!
hope that will provide food for thought, or at least was entertaining :D
Huimei out
I typed a very long and personal response on the topic of suicide by asphyxiation. It contained a personal anecdote, and a very touching song and was very heart-felt and emotional.
So I deleted it.
It wouldnt do any good to burden all the readers with details of my private life would it :D
Anyway, just to lighten the mood after that confession, I shall post a story that concerns COURAGE :D (Its one of our school values people so pay attention)
Once, a philosophy student was taking his year end exam.The essay question was " What is courage to you?" For three hours, as the other students scribbled frantically away, this student sat there and thought. At the end of the exam, he stood up, handed in his paper, and walked out. Upon opening this students answer paper, the examiner was shocked to find that it was COMPLETELY BLANK. But, as he glanced downwards,right at the bottom of the paper, written in small, neat, letters were the words " This is courage"
The student got an A+.
NOW how cool is that!!!
hope that will provide food for thought, or at least was entertaining :D
Huimei out
too beautiful ;
20:16;
20:16;
Wednesday 18 April 2007
Have you guys seen that advertisement lately about smoking ?? The one with the woman talking about how she got oral cancer from smoking and sending out an impassioned plea to the viewers urging them to quit while they were still able to, all the while tearing involuntarily from the pain of talking while afflicted with numerous open, bleeding, and pus-filled sores all over her mouth, the result of her own folly???
(Bet you get nightmares from reading that)
Whenever I see that, ironically, I start to laugh. I know it sounds really morbid and inhumane, as if I am a mentally-disturbed person, but there is, I assure you, a very logical and entertaining explanation behind this.
Whenever I take the bus from my house with my friends, there will usually be a certain neighbourhood Ah Beng covered in tattoos, complete with torn jeans and flipflops, happily smoking at the bus stop, oblivious to the discomfort the putrid smell his cigarette smoke is causing us. Not wanting to offend a member of the darker side of society, we had no choice but to put up with polluting our lungs or breathing in through our shirts, which made us look really, really stupid and loser-ry.
This was until the arrival of a prim and proper housewife, more commonly known as a Taitai, with her maid, two children, and an elderly grandmother in tow.
She unwittingly chose to settle her brood in our friendly chain-smokers's usual seat, and me and my friends huddled together, waiting to see what would happen.
As usual, our dear friend sauntered in right on schedule, but stopped mid-step when he realised that his "spot" was taken. He quickly recovered from this horrifying blow and swaggered over to lean against the signboard , pulling out his marlboros proceeded to light up, all in the name of cool, of course.
Thus it was to my profound amusement when, as he raised the cigarette to his lips, the old grandmother suddenly started to cough wildly, making him splutter and almost gag on first draw of smoke. I had to further contain myself when the housewife took out a magazine from her humoungous handbag and proceeded to fan herself with it and cough, while looking meaningfully at the poor ah beng who was trying his best to ignore her.
I guess the final straw came when the sweet old Ah Mah, having recovered from her coughing fit, leaned over to her grandkids and told them, in Hokkien of course, but I shall translate it for non- hokkien speakers " next time, when you grow up, dont be like that. Lazy bum!!! sit around all day with nothing to do, poke the skin with so many lines, then go and smoke somemore. If you want to die just go and jump off a building, dont inconvenience others like this!!!!!!!"
I had started to feel sorry for the poor bloke by now, and I suppose that the Grandmother's words were more than he could bear, as he crushed the cigarette in a nearby dustbin, before wandering off down the road to the other bus stop, preferring the walk to having to face the little family's annoyance and my friends and I's smothered giggles :D
Of course, if the Grandmother had been of a higher education, she might have opted to say something more along the lines of " Children, in the future, when you have reached adulthood, please do not emulate the behavior of that apparently homeless tramp standing there. I expect he does nothing more than languish about on the streets. He has also opted to go for a full-body tattoo, to save on cost I suppose, as you get discounts when you buy in bulk. Unfortunately he seems to have very bad taste, as the name of his girlfriend, tattooed across his arm in an extremely prominent way, has a very glaring spelling mistake in it. It should be spelt JASMIN not JASMINY as I am sure. If you, in any point in the future, decide to kill yourselves by voluntarily inhaling copious amounts of tar and tobacco into your lungs, which will result in asphixiation, please do not try to take others down with you as well, and choose a cleaner way of self-annihilation, such as leaping off a high-rise building. Thank you."
AHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!
ANYWAY, back to the main point.
Asphyxia.
A very bad deficiency to suffer from.
Because it will kill you in a matter of seconds.
Now, how sad is that?
Asphyxia, in a nutshell, is the lack of oxygen, which eventually leads to (If you're lucky) full or partial paralysis, full or partial brain damage, can turn you into a vegetable, or (if youre unlucky ) DEATH.
Asphyxia can result from different things, such as strangulation, smothering, choking or drowning. The weird thing is, most people fear natural disasters, plane crashes, fires, and other disasters more than they fear everyday dangers, such as mentioned above, even though these disasters are ALOT LESS LIKELY to happen to them.
While researching for this article, I came upon a very disturbing game, called * dun dun dun dunnnnn* the CHOKING GAME *screams and runs in little circles in horror*
Its apparently a very popular schoolyard game. More of a dare than a game, actually.It involves applying pressure on the carotid artery, around the neck, to stop the blood flow that carries oxygen to the brain. This is done either by the player themself with their hands or other impliment, or by an assisstant. The aim is to apply pressure on the arteries on either side of the neck simultaneously, until the person passes out. Of course, if the person uses their own hands, they automatically let go when they black out, but of another implement or person is used, they HAVE to let go ONCE the player faints, or else there may be permanent damage. Sadly, this "game" accounts for 250 to 1000 juvenile deaths each year.
Thats super sad man. I DO NOT in anyway recommend anybody play this game. It really stupid and dangerous as well. Can you imagine what it would be like to spend the rest of your life paralysed, a prisoner in your own body??
I think it would seriously suck.
(Bet you get nightmares from reading that)
Whenever I see that, ironically, I start to laugh. I know it sounds really morbid and inhumane, as if I am a mentally-disturbed person, but there is, I assure you, a very logical and entertaining explanation behind this.
Whenever I take the bus from my house with my friends, there will usually be a certain neighbourhood Ah Beng covered in tattoos, complete with torn jeans and flipflops, happily smoking at the bus stop, oblivious to the discomfort the putrid smell his cigarette smoke is causing us. Not wanting to offend a member of the darker side of society, we had no choice but to put up with polluting our lungs or breathing in through our shirts, which made us look really, really stupid and loser-ry.
This was until the arrival of a prim and proper housewife, more commonly known as a Taitai, with her maid, two children, and an elderly grandmother in tow.
She unwittingly chose to settle her brood in our friendly chain-smokers's usual seat, and me and my friends huddled together, waiting to see what would happen.
As usual, our dear friend sauntered in right on schedule, but stopped mid-step when he realised that his "spot" was taken. He quickly recovered from this horrifying blow and swaggered over to lean against the signboard , pulling out his marlboros proceeded to light up, all in the name of cool, of course.
Thus it was to my profound amusement when, as he raised the cigarette to his lips, the old grandmother suddenly started to cough wildly, making him splutter and almost gag on first draw of smoke. I had to further contain myself when the housewife took out a magazine from her humoungous handbag and proceeded to fan herself with it and cough, while looking meaningfully at the poor ah beng who was trying his best to ignore her.
I guess the final straw came when the sweet old Ah Mah, having recovered from her coughing fit, leaned over to her grandkids and told them, in Hokkien of course, but I shall translate it for non- hokkien speakers " next time, when you grow up, dont be like that. Lazy bum!!! sit around all day with nothing to do, poke the skin with so many lines, then go and smoke somemore. If you want to die just go and jump off a building, dont inconvenience others like this!!!!!!!"
I had started to feel sorry for the poor bloke by now, and I suppose that the Grandmother's words were more than he could bear, as he crushed the cigarette in a nearby dustbin, before wandering off down the road to the other bus stop, preferring the walk to having to face the little family's annoyance and my friends and I's smothered giggles :D
Of course, if the Grandmother had been of a higher education, she might have opted to say something more along the lines of " Children, in the future, when you have reached adulthood, please do not emulate the behavior of that apparently homeless tramp standing there. I expect he does nothing more than languish about on the streets. He has also opted to go for a full-body tattoo, to save on cost I suppose, as you get discounts when you buy in bulk. Unfortunately he seems to have very bad taste, as the name of his girlfriend, tattooed across his arm in an extremely prominent way, has a very glaring spelling mistake in it. It should be spelt JASMIN not JASMINY as I am sure. If you, in any point in the future, decide to kill yourselves by voluntarily inhaling copious amounts of tar and tobacco into your lungs, which will result in asphixiation, please do not try to take others down with you as well, and choose a cleaner way of self-annihilation, such as leaping off a high-rise building. Thank you."
AHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!
ANYWAY, back to the main point.
Asphyxia.
A very bad deficiency to suffer from.
Because it will kill you in a matter of seconds.
Now, how sad is that?
Asphyxia, in a nutshell, is the lack of oxygen, which eventually leads to (If you're lucky) full or partial paralysis, full or partial brain damage, can turn you into a vegetable, or (if youre unlucky ) DEATH.
Asphyxia can result from different things, such as strangulation, smothering, choking or drowning. The weird thing is, most people fear natural disasters, plane crashes, fires, and other disasters more than they fear everyday dangers, such as mentioned above, even though these disasters are ALOT LESS LIKELY to happen to them.
While researching for this article, I came upon a very disturbing game, called * dun dun dun dunnnnn* the CHOKING GAME *screams and runs in little circles in horror*
Its apparently a very popular schoolyard game. More of a dare than a game, actually.It involves applying pressure on the carotid artery, around the neck, to stop the blood flow that carries oxygen to the brain. This is done either by the player themself with their hands or other impliment, or by an assisstant. The aim is to apply pressure on the arteries on either side of the neck simultaneously, until the person passes out. Of course, if the person uses their own hands, they automatically let go when they black out, but of another implement or person is used, they HAVE to let go ONCE the player faints, or else there may be permanent damage. Sadly, this "game" accounts for 250 to 1000 juvenile deaths each year.
Thats super sad man. I DO NOT in anyway recommend anybody play this game. It really stupid and dangerous as well. Can you imagine what it would be like to spend the rest of your life paralysed, a prisoner in your own body??
I think it would seriously suck.
Most importantly, do remember :
too beautiful ;
17:00;
17:00;
Monday 16 April 2007
Pellagra! Caused by the lack of niacin (Or Vitamin B3) and the lack of protein, especially proteins containing the amino acid tryptophan, which can be converted to niacin in the body. (If you are still wondering about the stick man on the left, please wait a while; there would be further elaboration in a minute. :))Symptoms:
- High sensitivity to sunlight
- Aggression
- Dermatitis
- Red Skin Lesions
- Weakness
- Mental confusion
- Diarrhea
- Eventually dementia
The main causes of pellagra can be simplified to the 4Ds (4-digits! :D): Diarrhea, Dermatitis (also called enzema -> The inflammation of skin), Dementia (Mental illness) and, as always, DEATH. And this is where the stick man comes in; it sort of puts the 4Ds into a picture and indicates the places where it occurs in the human body. :)
Dermatitis (You see, the smile has dissappeared. :()
Pellagra is common in those who obtain their food energy from maize. It occurs mostly in the rural areas, like South America and Africa (In fact, it is one of the most common disease caused by malnutrition in that area. J ), and among inmates of jails and orphanages.
The people living in these places usually have corn as their staple. Untreated corn is a poor source of niacin, hence their increased susceptibility to pellagra.
So, how do we fix the problem? It was common practice in Native American cultures to treat the corn with alkali to correct the niacin deficiency. J Haha! It is definitely not expected of them to pour bottles of sodium hydroxide all over the corns before they are eaten. DUH! Haha! J On the other hand, I guess whole meal bread and cornflakes, rich in niacin, should be given to the jailed inmates and orphans. Especially, when these foods are available for them to consume. More of this should be given instead of merely corn. As for the Africans and Americans in the rural areas, maybe they could be educated in well, using every part of the chicken… Like the chicken livers, fried? Haha! J
We have all learnt a very important lesson today:
We should further appreciate our whole meal bread, and chicken livers, some examples of rich sources of niacin, unless we would not mind pour sodium hydroxide into our corn soup that is… J
too beautiful ;
22:57;
22:57;
I hate it when I'm on the comp late at night blogging either here or at my personal blog, and my mum takes the car out and buys prata home! And she buys the cheese pratas for me and I always succumb to conformity and go out to the kitchen and have my pratas. Pratas are nice, but not so cool at 1:30 am at night. I feel fat when I go to sleep ugh.
Anyway, the other day I was at Villa'ge at Heeren with the rest of scband and our band teacher in charge Mrs Lee, to celebrate the coming and going of our SYF. My table consisted of most of the sec3s in band. And after eating all the really expensive(!) food, we felt a WEE bit bored.
Just after uniform check, and before leaving for syf.
:D check out my hair man. it's probably still in shock for being neat a record 6 hours.
The players of the game! around half of the sec3s in band.
This is what it STARTED out as.
The runner-up, the person who refused to play, and the first to lose!
A close up of the cocktail.:D
and the winner.
Today Miss Cai will show you exactly why people suffer from lack of appetite. Mainly it's due to stress, and stress levels were VERY high in this game of danger we played. We went round in a full circle, each one having to name a famous celebrity before 5 seconds were up, conditions being the celebrity could not have been named before.
Any one who faltered or fumbled was quickly brought to her knees before a forfeit of the morbidly waiting spoon, in the pool of brown muck we had concocted from a main base of mushroom soup, watermelon juice, coconut juice, mango juice, ice lemon tea, lemon slices, and a million other stuffs.
To win, one had to have the combination of nerves of steel, the ability to think quickly under high pressure, and a strong sense of focus.
We quickly learnt the apparent expert in the game was Beatrice Yeo of 3sy, and then we knew how she was in the top 20 of the sec3 cohort. Never fumbling, never faulting, she soon emerged the champion of the game, forfeiting only once.
And the moral of the story? Stress leads to anxiety which in turn, leads to lack of appetite. Let me show you. You get stressed, cannot come up with a celebrity's name in time. You lose, and have to eat the disgusting cocktail. Which leads to poor appetite, duh.
Elementary, my dear friends. Don't you just love this blog? I put things in such simple perspective.
Ok I know I haven't explained quite enough about appetite, so here goes. Now just sit back and relax and hear me wax lyrical about appetite.
Appetite is the desire to eat and eat
Veggies and fruit and fish and meat
Not just that, but others too
There's no end to the food we chew!
Appetite is felt as a hunger gnawing
Away at the stomach, a-clawing
Linked by a close interplay
Digestive tract, adipose tissue plus brain too wahseh!
Decreased desire to eat is called anorexia
Increased desire to eat is called hyperphagia
Appetite regulation involves the gastrointestinal tract
And leptin seems to provide negative feedback
Haha! Talk about bad rhymes!
Anyway, the other day I was at Villa'ge at Heeren with the rest of scband and our band teacher in charge Mrs Lee, to celebrate the coming and going of our SYF. My table consisted of most of the sec3s in band. And after eating all the really expensive(!) food, we felt a WEE bit bored.
Just after uniform check, and before leaving for syf.
:D check out my hair man. it's probably still in shock for being neat a record 6 hours.
The players of the game! around half of the sec3s in band.
This is what it STARTED out as.
The runner-up, the person who refused to play, and the first to lose!
A close up of the cocktail.:D
and the winner.
Today Miss Cai will show you exactly why people suffer from lack of appetite. Mainly it's due to stress, and stress levels were VERY high in this game of danger we played. We went round in a full circle, each one having to name a famous celebrity before 5 seconds were up, conditions being the celebrity could not have been named before.
Any one who faltered or fumbled was quickly brought to her knees before a forfeit of the morbidly waiting spoon, in the pool of brown muck we had concocted from a main base of mushroom soup, watermelon juice, coconut juice, mango juice, ice lemon tea, lemon slices, and a million other stuffs.
To win, one had to have the combination of nerves of steel, the ability to think quickly under high pressure, and a strong sense of focus.
We quickly learnt the apparent expert in the game was Beatrice Yeo of 3sy, and then we knew how she was in the top 20 of the sec3 cohort. Never fumbling, never faulting, she soon emerged the champion of the game, forfeiting only once.
And the moral of the story? Stress leads to anxiety which in turn, leads to lack of appetite. Let me show you. You get stressed, cannot come up with a celebrity's name in time. You lose, and have to eat the disgusting cocktail. Which leads to poor appetite, duh.
Elementary, my dear friends. Don't you just love this blog? I put things in such simple perspective.
Ok I know I haven't explained quite enough about appetite, so here goes. Now just sit back and relax and hear me wax lyrical about appetite.
Appetite is the desire to eat and eat
Veggies and fruit and fish and meat
Not just that, but others too
There's no end to the food we chew!
Appetite is felt as a hunger gnawing
Away at the stomach, a-clawing
Linked by a close interplay
Digestive tract, adipose tissue plus brain too wahseh!
Decreased desire to eat is called anorexia
Increased desire to eat is called hyperphagia
Appetite regulation involves the gastrointestinal tract
And leptin seems to provide negative feedback
Haha! Talk about bad rhymes!
too beautiful ;
00:53;
00:53;
Sunday 15 April 2007
This post is dedicated to our bio man - Mr Johari!
You know what Huimei? Freakily, I think Mr Johari suffers from ParareÃr Perridere, like seriously. The symptoms you listed. He easily qualifies under most of them. Let's list them out one by one.
Firstly, the prerequisite - 80% of males get this. I'm pretty sure Mr Jo's more than 80% male, so that's definitely satisfied.
1)An urge to laugh at almost nothing at all
This is definitely a YES. Our bio man laughs at everything!
2)You think that something is funny, and nobody agrees with you
This is negotiable, but leaning more towards the YES side.
3)You lack the ability to giggle, you can only laugh
YES YES YES YES YES.
4)You have are obsessed with anything fictional (eg . comic book characters, items that only exist in stories, magic, excetera)
YES YES YES. Mr Johari and his Star Wars! The Darth Vader makes an appearance on the back of his car even.
5)You often embarrass yourself by laughing too loud in public places.
MAYBE.
6)One of your relatives suffer from this disease.
MAYBE.
7) Your shoulders are very squishy in the morning.
Mr Johari! Are they? For now, MAYBE.
8)You will also have a fascination with anything realating to time ( watches, books on time travel)
YES. Mr Johari and his Panerai-s. Another hobby which makes an appearance on his car.
9)You have a photographic memory
YES, definitely YES. I think the whole of gy can attest to this, at least those who heard him quote Romeo and Juliet flawlessly.
10)You have an allergic reaction to food that you like to eat.
MAYBE. I don't know. Ask him.
VERDICT:OMG THIS IS A SERIOUS CASE.
And now, I will teach you to combat muscle fatigue from sprinting! I would like to take this opportunity to thank our selfless bio man for being ourunwilling unwitting model. Er kudos to Amanda of 3gr and Zhao Xian of 3sy, for the generous use of their cameras too.
This is him walking around before his big race, setting a good example by staying limber.:D You can't see it, but he's probably breathing deeply and regularly so that after the race the pain from the incurrence of the oxygen debt won't be that bad.
And of course, he has always taught us to stretch before a race so that the muscles do not get strained.
On a completely unrelated note, if you look carefully at the pictures where he's crouching down, we actually have quite a cool brand-conscious teacher teaching us bio. Adidas shirt with Germany stripes, Adidas track pants, and Adidas yellow shoes.
I also have a video of Mr Johari running and burning up the rubber on the track, but it's currently residing in the shell of Zhao's camera and refuses to budge out of its safe haven, even into the limelight of youtube. It was also extremely reluctant in treading the pathway of MSN File Sharing from Zhao's comp to mine, so in the end we cancelled the transfer. So until we find a way via thumbdrive or cd, you'll have to watch this space for that vid.
Anyway, see we take all the precautions (warming up, cooling down etc) to avoid strains or sore spots later. But there is a rare genetic disease in the world called the congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, also known as CIPA, which affects the nerve endings. The sufferer actually suffers from the lack of physical pain.
Most of us sometimes wonder, why does pain exist in this world? Why does our God allow it? This topic is so hotly debated, it was even questioned in Dan Brown's controversial bestseller The Da Vinci Code which caused an uproar in the Roman Catholic Church. In that theory, it likens pain to a lesson. Our nuclear weapons of mass destruction and radar and the likes are the skateboard of a young child. The pain and devastation caused by the weapons and tools of war are the scrape on the knees of the child when he falls. The healing process takes place when he gets up to walk again.
And of course, there's the Ethiopian theory. Pain and suffering exists so that we know what true happiness is, in contrast. To quote a famous wheelchair bound ambassador called Jonathan, "Pain is inevitable, misery is optional." He's the man.
I suppose the answer could be found in the way we look at pain. When we look at pain, we are often inundated, or our human mind inundates us with pictures of the likes of the Iraq War, of the Bali Bombings, of children of theolidamide and kwashiorkor, of cancer patients et cetera.
But we often forget the more important everyday roles that pain plays. Sufferers from CIPA have frequent fractures, cuts, burns and other injuries. They cannot feel pain at all. For example, a child suffering from CIPA might inspect her hand and wonder why it was red and blistered because she put it on an object that was extremely hot, causing pain she could not feel. Pain creates stimuli to which we react to.
Of course, there also the more different kinds of people, including one very stupid man I read about in the newspapers last year, who embezzled his company funds to pay for a dominatrix to, get this, whip him to create sexual pleasure (somehow).
Sometimes I think I am very exposed to the more un-feminine aspects and elements of life. But yes, coming back to the lack of physical pain. My answer to that question of why pain exists is that it is necessary. We need pain to remind ourselves that we are human. A baby needs pain for it to start crying and in the process clear the airways for air to enter its new lungs. An inquisitive child needs pain to learn though experience not to do something. An adult needs pain to help themselves not become an emotionally-detached generation.
And recently my mother and then my chinese teacher brought to my attention, was the topic of abortion. I was thinking about it during Chinese tuition earlier this night. It's strange, isn't it. Abortion isn't a crime, but infanticide is. Does it matter if the baby is born or unborn? The fact is that it's a life, not alive.
Pain is also caused by tension between groups of different views and characteristics. We could just take a few examples, the Crusades, The Genocide, just to name a few famous ones in history. A little more present, the current tension between the Tamils and Sinhalese in Sri Lanka, and the battle between the Protestants and the Catholics in Northern Ireland.
ok happy lack of pain day, i desperately need sleep now. :D night.
You know what Huimei? Freakily, I think Mr Johari suffers from ParareÃr Perridere, like seriously. The symptoms you listed. He easily qualifies under most of them. Let's list them out one by one.
Firstly, the prerequisite - 80% of males get this. I'm pretty sure Mr Jo's more than 80% male, so that's definitely satisfied.
1)An urge to laugh at almost nothing at all
This is definitely a YES. Our bio man laughs at everything!
2)You think that something is funny, and nobody agrees with you
This is negotiable, but leaning more towards the YES side.
3)You lack the ability to giggle, you can only laugh
YES YES YES YES YES.
4)You have are obsessed with anything fictional (eg . comic book characters, items that only exist in stories, magic, excetera)
YES YES YES. Mr Johari and his Star Wars! The Darth Vader makes an appearance on the back of his car even.
5)You often embarrass yourself by laughing too loud in public places.
MAYBE.
6)One of your relatives suffer from this disease.
MAYBE.
7) Your shoulders are very squishy in the morning.
Mr Johari! Are they? For now, MAYBE.
8)You will also have a fascination with anything realating to time ( watches, books on time travel)
YES. Mr Johari and his Panerai-s. Another hobby which makes an appearance on his car.
9)You have a photographic memory
YES, definitely YES. I think the whole of gy can attest to this, at least those who heard him quote Romeo and Juliet flawlessly.
10)You have an allergic reaction to food that you like to eat.
MAYBE. I don't know. Ask him.
VERDICT:OMG THIS IS A SERIOUS CASE.
And now, I will teach you to combat muscle fatigue from sprinting! I would like to take this opportunity to thank our selfless bio man for being our
This is him walking around before his big race, setting a good example by staying limber.:D You can't see it, but he's probably breathing deeply and regularly so that after the race the pain from the incurrence of the oxygen debt won't be that bad.
And of course, he has always taught us to stretch before a race so that the muscles do not get strained.
On a completely unrelated note, if you look carefully at the pictures where he's crouching down, we actually have quite a cool brand-conscious teacher teaching us bio. Adidas shirt with Germany stripes, Adidas track pants, and Adidas yellow shoes.
I also have a video of Mr Johari running and burning up the rubber on the track, but it's currently residing in the shell of Zhao's camera and refuses to budge out of its safe haven, even into the limelight of youtube. It was also extremely reluctant in treading the pathway of MSN File Sharing from Zhao's comp to mine, so in the end we cancelled the transfer. So until we find a way via thumbdrive or cd, you'll have to watch this space for that vid.
Anyway, see we take all the precautions (warming up, cooling down etc) to avoid strains or sore spots later. But there is a rare genetic disease in the world called the congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, also known as CIPA, which affects the nerve endings. The sufferer actually suffers from the lack of physical pain.
Most of us sometimes wonder, why does pain exist in this world? Why does our God allow it? This topic is so hotly debated, it was even questioned in Dan Brown's controversial bestseller The Da Vinci Code which caused an uproar in the Roman Catholic Church. In that theory, it likens pain to a lesson. Our nuclear weapons of mass destruction and radar and the likes are the skateboard of a young child. The pain and devastation caused by the weapons and tools of war are the scrape on the knees of the child when he falls. The healing process takes place when he gets up to walk again.
And of course, there's the Ethiopian theory. Pain and suffering exists so that we know what true happiness is, in contrast. To quote a famous wheelchair bound ambassador called Jonathan, "Pain is inevitable, misery is optional." He's the man.
I suppose the answer could be found in the way we look at pain. When we look at pain, we are often inundated, or our human mind inundates us with pictures of the likes of the Iraq War, of the Bali Bombings, of children of theolidamide and kwashiorkor, of cancer patients et cetera.
But we often forget the more important everyday roles that pain plays. Sufferers from CIPA have frequent fractures, cuts, burns and other injuries. They cannot feel pain at all. For example, a child suffering from CIPA might inspect her hand and wonder why it was red and blistered because she put it on an object that was extremely hot, causing pain she could not feel. Pain creates stimuli to which we react to.
Of course, there also the more different kinds of people, including one very stupid man I read about in the newspapers last year, who embezzled his company funds to pay for a dominatrix to, get this, whip him to create sexual pleasure (somehow).
Sometimes I think I am very exposed to the more un-feminine aspects and elements of life. But yes, coming back to the lack of physical pain. My answer to that question of why pain exists is that it is necessary. We need pain to remind ourselves that we are human. A baby needs pain for it to start crying and in the process clear the airways for air to enter its new lungs. An inquisitive child needs pain to learn though experience not to do something. An adult needs pain to help themselves not become an emotionally-detached generation.
And recently my mother and then my chinese teacher brought to my attention, was the topic of abortion. I was thinking about it during Chinese tuition earlier this night. It's strange, isn't it. Abortion isn't a crime, but infanticide is. Does it matter if the baby is born or unborn? The fact is that it's a life, not alive.
Pain is also caused by tension between groups of different views and characteristics. We could just take a few examples, the Crusades, The Genocide, just to name a few famous ones in history. A little more present, the current tension between the Tamils and Sinhalese in Sri Lanka, and the battle between the Protestants and the Catholics in Northern Ireland.
ok happy lack of pain day, i desperately need sleep now. :D night.
too beautiful ;
01:05;
01:05;
Friday 13 April 2007
HELLO ONE AND ALL :D
I'm so happy because I just discovered a new deficiency disease and it makes me laugh alot.
Literally.
I'm posting this cause I had a mentally disturbing experience the other day.
I was reading in the school library the other day, when I heard a giggle. Immediately my overactive imagination went to work, imagining frightful creatures from different horror movies creeping up behind me. I whipped my head around, expecting to have the living daylights scared out of me, only to be confronted by....................
The student librarian on duty, stacking books to gain cip hours.
But it was still scary.
Cause she would stack a few books, giggle randomly, then stack a few more. And I swear the books she were stacking were not comics. Serious.
She probably suffers from this :
Its known as Parareír Perridere
And it literally means " to laugh" . How obvious is that. Apparently, one in fifty people have it, and probably don't know they do. It stems from the deficiency of a hormone known as cierreparaarriba chiudainsu , which is found in the frontal lobe of the brain. The part that controls personality. Apparrently, when we laugh, this hormone is released and it triggers a chemical reaction that prevents us from laughing continuously once we get started. Those who lack this hormone just continue laughing , even when the whole room is staring at them, and people start to phone woodbridge. It is heriditary, and the only method of treatment is brain surgery, to implant the portian of the lobe that you are missing. But, 80% of sufferers are male, so females can (almost) be reassured that they are most likely not afflicted with it.
If you do suffer from this deficiency, then you will probably have the following symptoms :
1)An urge to laugh at almost nothing at all
2)You think that something is funny, and nobody agrees with you
3)You lack the ability to giggle, you can only laugh
4)You have are obsessed with anything fictional (eg . comic book characters, items that only exist in stories, magic, excetera)
5)You often embarrass yourself by laughing too loud in public places.
6)One of your relatives suffer from this disease.
7) Your shoulders are very squishy in the morning.
8)You will also have a fascination with anything realating to time ( watches, books on time travel)
9)You have a photographic memory
10)You have an allergic reaction to food that you like to eat.
If you have ANY 7 of the above symptoms, ESPECIALLY numbers 1, 4, 6 and 7, please have your doctor check it out, cause if left untreated, the patient will also develop other personality disorders such as autism, a very depressed or WORST CASE a very VIOLENT temperament.
And of course, people do stupid things in an moment of rage.
So,
DONT BE STUPID OK!!!!
Besides, Its really annoying when you tell a joke and this one person will laugh for 2 hours until they faint.
OR WORSE STILL you sit next to a person, and they sart to giggle randomly.
Now, how scary is that??
************************************************
************************************************
OH, and one more thing.
( sorry I donno whats up with the spacing so just scroll down)
HAPPY APRIL FOOLS!!!!!!!!!!!!
I hope you weren't gullible enough to believe that post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And besides, I left you hints.
para reír and per ridere mean "to laugh" in Spanish and italian, respectively,
While cierre para arriba and chiuda in su mean "shut up " in the same languages.
HAHA :D
oh well, happy (belated) april fools.
Huimei the one and only out!!
I'm so happy because I just discovered a new deficiency disease and it makes me laugh alot.
Literally.
I'm posting this cause I had a mentally disturbing experience the other day.
I was reading in the school library the other day, when I heard a giggle. Immediately my overactive imagination went to work, imagining frightful creatures from different horror movies creeping up behind me. I whipped my head around, expecting to have the living daylights scared out of me, only to be confronted by....................
The student librarian on duty, stacking books to gain cip hours.
But it was still scary.
Cause she would stack a few books, giggle randomly, then stack a few more. And I swear the books she were stacking were not comics. Serious.
She probably suffers from this :
Its known as Parareír Perridere
And it literally means " to laugh" . How obvious is that. Apparently, one in fifty people have it, and probably don't know they do. It stems from the deficiency of a hormone known as cierreparaarriba chiudainsu , which is found in the frontal lobe of the brain. The part that controls personality. Apparrently, when we laugh, this hormone is released and it triggers a chemical reaction that prevents us from laughing continuously once we get started. Those who lack this hormone just continue laughing , even when the whole room is staring at them, and people start to phone woodbridge. It is heriditary, and the only method of treatment is brain surgery, to implant the portian of the lobe that you are missing. But, 80% of sufferers are male, so females can (almost) be reassured that they are most likely not afflicted with it.
If you do suffer from this deficiency, then you will probably have the following symptoms :
1)An urge to laugh at almost nothing at all
2)You think that something is funny, and nobody agrees with you
3)You lack the ability to giggle, you can only laugh
4)You have are obsessed with anything fictional (eg . comic book characters, items that only exist in stories, magic, excetera)
5)You often embarrass yourself by laughing too loud in public places.
6)One of your relatives suffer from this disease.
7) Your shoulders are very squishy in the morning.
8)You will also have a fascination with anything realating to time ( watches, books on time travel)
9)You have a photographic memory
10)You have an allergic reaction to food that you like to eat.
If you have ANY 7 of the above symptoms, ESPECIALLY numbers 1, 4, 6 and 7, please have your doctor check it out, cause if left untreated, the patient will also develop other personality disorders such as autism, a very depressed or WORST CASE a very VIOLENT temperament.
And of course, people do stupid things in an moment of rage.
So,
DONT BE STUPID OK!!!!
Besides, Its really annoying when you tell a joke and this one person will laugh for 2 hours until they faint.
OR WORSE STILL you sit next to a person, and they sart to giggle randomly.
Now, how scary is that??
************************************************
************************************************
OH, and one more thing.
( sorry I donno whats up with the spacing so just scroll down)
HAPPY APRIL FOOLS!!!!!!!!!!!!
I hope you weren't gullible enough to believe that post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And besides, I left you hints.
para reír and per ridere mean "to laugh" in Spanish and italian, respectively,
While cierre para arriba and chiuda in su mean "shut up " in the same languages.
HAHA :D
oh well, happy (belated) april fools.
Huimei the one and only out!!
too beautiful ;
17:25;
17:25;
Sunday 8 April 2007
OMG HEY LOVELY PEOPLE:DDD
SORRY I HAVENT BLOGGED FOR A LIKE SUPER DUPER LONG TIME.
SO ANYWAY, HERE'S THE POST WHICH THE WORLD HAS BEEN WAITING FOR!
okay okay.Today, we'll be learning about COLOUR DEFICIENCY!
Or in simpler terms, COLOUR BLINDNESS.
During primary sch medical checks, I remembered how i was asked to look and stare onto this piece of glass with multi colour dots and spot some random number within it. And i swear, it was HIGHLY AMUSING:D
And i remembered calling my dear friend stupid and blind cos she couldn't find the number thing. Then, i felt SMART cos i thought it was some intellectual test and I ACTUALLY SPOTTED THE NUMBER. However, now i feel really really bad cos the poor girl wasn't blind or stupid, she was simply missing some of her color-sensitive cones in her retina!
APPARENTLY, guys are more prone to being colour blind compared to girls. HOHOHO. No wonder guys have bad colour co-ordination. AHAHAHA.
So you see, the human retina consists of many many cone cells which see mainly red, green and blue. And other colours like yellow, pink pruple etc etc are simply mixtures and combinations of these. People who are colour blind lack in some of these colour-sensitive cones and therefore, these colours will appear DARKER in some cases.
And the reason why girls are less prone to being colour blind is because the genes for color vision are on the X chromosome, and because females have 2 X chromosomes, if one is deficient, the other makes up for it. Also,vast majority of color blind cases are hereditary. SO PRAY THAT YOUR MOM WAS NOT COLOUR BLIND.Females may be carriers of color blindness, but males are more commonly affected. Basically, there are FIVE types of colour blindness.APPARENTLY.
Protanomaly or usually referred as "red-weakness", causes the poor man to see less of the colour RED on any item he sees. For example, if the protanomalous observer spots a violet or lavendar object, he would fail to detect any from of the colour red and therefore simply see the blue component of the violet-coloured item.
Next big word: Deuteranomaly. It is when the guy is considered to be "green weak". The idea is similar to that of the case of PROTANOMALY, except, it is the issue of lack of green colour-sensitive cones.
Next next next is Dicromasy! It is a sad case whereby these individuals normally know they have a color vision problem and the sad SAD thing is that these people see no perceptible difference between red, orange, yellow, and green. All these colors that seem so different to the normal viewer, appear to be the same color for them.
The fourth case: Protanopia. It is the dimming of brightness on colours like red, orange and yellow. And therefore, these colours are usually confused with black or dark gray. OMG IMAGINE HOW PROTANOPES SEE SUNBURN PEOPLE. HAHAH. The RED would look completely BLACK.NYAHAH.
ALRIGHT ALRIGHT WE'RE DOWN TO OUR VERY LAST CASE:Deuteranopia!The deuteranope suffers the same hue discrimination problems as the protanope, but without the abnormal dimming.The names red, orange, yellow, and green really mean very little to him aside from being different names that every one else around him seems to be able to agree on. Similarly, violet, lavender, purple, and blue, seem to be too many names to use logically for hues that all look alike to him.
There is no form of treatment for color blindness, nor is it usually the cause of any significant disability.
However, a driver who suffers from colour blind is HIGHLY DANGEROUS when on the road.
He would easily misinterpret the traffic lights' colours and for all you know, he would hit the accelerator when he thought he sees GREEN but in reality its RED. OR VICE VERSA. Though it'd be quite entertaining to see such an act, it wouldn't be very safe.
Another problem these people would face is, GETTING THE RIGHT OUTFIT. Can you imagine the poor man decked in a barney-purple and mustard-yellow pinstriped suit thinking he looked handsome in the blue and black one?I would guarantee that he would have all eyes set on him, but not in a positive kinda way. What a tragedy.
Well anyway, I hope you have all been enlightened and REMEMBER. COLOUR BLINDNESS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER. There's no certain treatment to correct it so we should all learn to appreciate these SPEACIAL AND DIFFERENT PEOPLE(:
OKAY OKAY I'M OFF TO BED.
HOPE YOU GUYS FOUND THIS ENTRY ALRIGHT.
Good night(:
SORRY I HAVENT BLOGGED FOR A LIKE SUPER DUPER LONG TIME.
SO ANYWAY, HERE'S THE POST WHICH THE WORLD HAS BEEN WAITING FOR!
okay okay.Today, we'll be learning about COLOUR DEFICIENCY!
Or in simpler terms, COLOUR BLINDNESS.
During primary sch medical checks, I remembered how i was asked to look and stare onto this piece of glass with multi colour dots and spot some random number within it. And i swear, it was HIGHLY AMUSING:D
And i remembered calling my dear friend stupid and blind cos she couldn't find the number thing. Then, i felt SMART cos i thought it was some intellectual test and I ACTUALLY SPOTTED THE NUMBER. However, now i feel really really bad cos the poor girl wasn't blind or stupid, she was simply missing some of her color-sensitive cones in her retina!
APPARENTLY, guys are more prone to being colour blind compared to girls. HOHOHO. No wonder guys have bad colour co-ordination. AHAHAHA.
So you see, the human retina consists of many many cone cells which see mainly red, green and blue. And other colours like yellow, pink pruple etc etc are simply mixtures and combinations of these. People who are colour blind lack in some of these colour-sensitive cones and therefore, these colours will appear DARKER in some cases.
And the reason why girls are less prone to being colour blind is because the genes for color vision are on the X chromosome, and because females have 2 X chromosomes, if one is deficient, the other makes up for it. Also,vast majority of color blind cases are hereditary. SO PRAY THAT YOUR MOM WAS NOT COLOUR BLIND.Females may be carriers of color blindness, but males are more commonly affected. Basically, there are FIVE types of colour blindness.APPARENTLY.
Protanomaly or usually referred as "red-weakness", causes the poor man to see less of the colour RED on any item he sees. For example, if the protanomalous observer spots a violet or lavendar object, he would fail to detect any from of the colour red and therefore simply see the blue component of the violet-coloured item.
Next big word: Deuteranomaly. It is when the guy is considered to be "green weak". The idea is similar to that of the case of PROTANOMALY, except, it is the issue of lack of green colour-sensitive cones.
Next next next is Dicromasy! It is a sad case whereby these individuals normally know they have a color vision problem and the sad SAD thing is that these people see no perceptible difference between red, orange, yellow, and green. All these colors that seem so different to the normal viewer, appear to be the same color for them.
The fourth case: Protanopia. It is the dimming of brightness on colours like red, orange and yellow. And therefore, these colours are usually confused with black or dark gray. OMG IMAGINE HOW PROTANOPES SEE SUNBURN PEOPLE. HAHAH. The RED would look completely BLACK.NYAHAH.
ALRIGHT ALRIGHT WE'RE DOWN TO OUR VERY LAST CASE:Deuteranopia!The deuteranope suffers the same hue discrimination problems as the protanope, but without the abnormal dimming.The names red, orange, yellow, and green really mean very little to him aside from being different names that every one else around him seems to be able to agree on. Similarly, violet, lavender, purple, and blue, seem to be too many names to use logically for hues that all look alike to him.
There is no form of treatment for color blindness, nor is it usually the cause of any significant disability.
However, a driver who suffers from colour blind is HIGHLY DANGEROUS when on the road.
He would easily misinterpret the traffic lights' colours and for all you know, he would hit the accelerator when he thought he sees GREEN but in reality its RED. OR VICE VERSA. Though it'd be quite entertaining to see such an act, it wouldn't be very safe.
Another problem these people would face is, GETTING THE RIGHT OUTFIT. Can you imagine the poor man decked in a barney-purple and mustard-yellow pinstriped suit thinking he looked handsome in the blue and black one?I would guarantee that he would have all eyes set on him, but not in a positive kinda way. What a tragedy.
Well anyway, I hope you have all been enlightened and REMEMBER. COLOUR BLINDNESS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER. There's no certain treatment to correct it so we should all learn to appreciate these SPEACIAL AND DIFFERENT PEOPLE(:
OKAY OKAY I'M OFF TO BED.
HOPE YOU GUYS FOUND THIS ENTRY ALRIGHT.
Good night(:
too beautiful ;
22:04;
22:04;
Friday 6 April 2007
I find a sudden urge for Fort Minor's hit single Where'd You Go as I wonder where my dear partner ANA has gone. Hurry and post banana! We're all waiting for you!
Serene here, by the way. And today I'll be posting about what happens when a person lacks the normal growth of their cystic fibrosis transmembrane conductance regulator. Take away the bombastically long name, basically the product of this gene helps create sweat, digestive juices, and mucus.
The story I am about to share was taken from "Stories for a Teen's Heart" which my grandmother's godson gave to me for Christmas around four years ago. It's called The Silent Flute, by Felix Mayerhofer.
One of the things I enjoyed as band director was recruiting new members. I'd enter a class at the beginning of a school year and ask, "Who wants to join the band?" Every hand would shoot up! Each student had an idea what he or she wanted to play: some the trombone or clarinet, others the flute, drums, or trumpet.
It took about two weeks for the kids and their parents to decide what instruments they wanted to buy or rent. When the day of their first lesson arrived, I could hear the commontion as the flute students scurried toward the band room. When I opened the door, they whizzed by me, found a seat and anxiously waited with great expectation for me to make them instant players.
I showed them how to blow into the hole of the top section of the flute. Going down the line, each student made a sound for me, until I came to a pretty but fragile girl. Her name was Jennifer. Even though she tried with the biggest breath she could muster, nothing came out.
"Don't worry," I assured her. "You'll soon be able to play." I had the students put the three parts of the flute together, then taught them how and where to place their fingers. At the end of the rehearsal, the kids left the band room as excitedly as they had entered, with the trumpets scrambling in next.
Besides their individual group instructions, the entire band got together once a week. As the beginning band improved, Jennifer was always there, but looking frailer as the weeks passed. She still couldn't get a sound, but her friends continued to encourage her. Jennifer knew the fingerings and did everything correctly, so I knew she'd been practicing. She was a sweet and patient girl. Since she'd made the effort to learn, I didn't pressure her.
After a rehearsal, I asked Jennifer to stay. "Jennifer," I said, "you don't seem to have enough energy to play the flute. Is anything wrong?"
With maturity beyond her years, she looked up at me with her big blue eyes and said, "I have cystic fibrosis and I'm going to die."
As tears clouded my eyes and a lump came to my throat, I asked with difficulty, "What is cystic fibrosis?"
"It's an inherited disease," she explained, "with a thick sticky mucous that clogs my lungs and airways, making it hard for me to breathe. My older brother died two years ago of the same disease, but luckily my younger sister doesn't have it."
"Why did you take up the flute since you have trouble breathing?" I asked.
In a small but determined voice, she responded, "I've always wanted to play the flute and love it, even though I can't make a sound."
I wanted to hug her as if she were my own child, and when she left, I sat down heavy haerted, having trouble holding back the tears.
As the weeks passed, Jennifer coughed and choked more, and during one of our rehearsals, her seat was vacant. I was told she had had a serious breathing attack and would be out for a few days.
When she returned to band, Jennifer tried playing the flute like she had never been ill. I began teaching the flute players three new notes. Each student played them for me to make sure they knew the fingerings. When I came to Jennifer, I decided to jump to the next player because the notes were higher and more difficult.
"I want to try it, too," Jennifer said softly. Lifting the flute with her delicate hands, she put the instrument to her lips, and out came three beautiful notes. I never saw a broader smile on a child's face, like she's been touched by an angel. There was stunned silence, then the band broke out in cheers and loud applause, and yelled, "All right, Jennifer!" It was a moment to be remembered.
We never heard her play again. The principal came into the band room the following rehearsal and informed us that Jennifer had died quietly in her sleep. There wasn't a dry eye in the band.
She left all of us with wonderful memories of her courage and what it was to never give up....Jennifer's silent flute will be forever missed."
I play the flute in the school band too, and I do know how hard it is to play the flute, or any instrument for that matter, should you encounter any respiratory illnesses. Apart, of course, from the loserish instances where we choke on our saliva in our anxiety to breathe quickly to 'catch' the next note, and cough violently, in the end resulting in the missing of the whole phrase of melody. Those loserish instances somehow always seem to find me.
But point aside, yes, sadly cystic fibrosis almost always causes death. Often, the only way to rectify cystic fibrosis is lung transplantation as the situation worsens. Most individuals with cystic fibrosis die young, often in their mere 20s and 30s.
1 out of every 2500 children is born with cystic fibrosis, and cystic fibrosis is easily one of the most common fatal inherited diseases around. However, Wiki says people without cystic fibrosis are born with two working copies of the cystic fibrosis transmembrane conductance regulator, while only one is needed prevent the disease itself.
I wonder then if it would be possible to create a sort of 'vaccine' against this disease. Cystic fibrosis can be detected at a rather early age, prior to birth through genetic testing or in early childhood through a sweat test. Since there is much potential for a child's body to adapt to changes in the early stages of life, and with our current technology of stem cell research, I suppose the answer to cystic fibrosis' deadly questionaire could very plausibly be found in the near future.
My idea of that answer would perhaps be introducing foreign cells, genetically altered for it not be rejected by the child's body, or perhaps cells from the unaffected parents or siblings to reduce chances of rejection, little by little, until the child's body is fully adapted to the new cells.
I do suppose it would again, like my last theory on combatting serine-deficiencies, potentially clash with our stand on bioethics. Against this debate between religion and a hope for a better science, I hope to find a midpoint somewhere, accepted both by religion and Science.
I suppose religion would state everything happens for a reason, and that God has plans for everyone. And after people who are true inspirations - Stephen Hawking, Helen Keller and the likes, I suppose anyone could achieve, should they believe in themselves, despite any physical disabilities.
And yet, in all the splendour of my secure life of air-conditioned rooms and comfortable beds, I cannot possibly fathom the feeling of living a life, cradled in the arms of the Grim Reaper each day. It would be as Jewel the unicorn put it so aptly in C.S Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, it would be as if you drank water, and it were dry water, or if the sun rose each day, but it was a dark sun.
Life wouldn't be life, would it?
Sometimes I think I take my life for granted.
Serene here, by the way. And today I'll be posting about what happens when a person lacks the normal growth of their cystic fibrosis transmembrane conductance regulator. Take away the bombastically long name, basically the product of this gene helps create sweat, digestive juices, and mucus.
The story I am about to share was taken from "Stories for a Teen's Heart" which my grandmother's godson gave to me for Christmas around four years ago. It's called The Silent Flute, by Felix Mayerhofer.
One of the things I enjoyed as band director was recruiting new members. I'd enter a class at the beginning of a school year and ask, "Who wants to join the band?" Every hand would shoot up! Each student had an idea what he or she wanted to play: some the trombone or clarinet, others the flute, drums, or trumpet.
It took about two weeks for the kids and their parents to decide what instruments they wanted to buy or rent. When the day of their first lesson arrived, I could hear the commontion as the flute students scurried toward the band room. When I opened the door, they whizzed by me, found a seat and anxiously waited with great expectation for me to make them instant players.
I showed them how to blow into the hole of the top section of the flute. Going down the line, each student made a sound for me, until I came to a pretty but fragile girl. Her name was Jennifer. Even though she tried with the biggest breath she could muster, nothing came out.
"Don't worry," I assured her. "You'll soon be able to play." I had the students put the three parts of the flute together, then taught them how and where to place their fingers. At the end of the rehearsal, the kids left the band room as excitedly as they had entered, with the trumpets scrambling in next.
Besides their individual group instructions, the entire band got together once a week. As the beginning band improved, Jennifer was always there, but looking frailer as the weeks passed. She still couldn't get a sound, but her friends continued to encourage her. Jennifer knew the fingerings and did everything correctly, so I knew she'd been practicing. She was a sweet and patient girl. Since she'd made the effort to learn, I didn't pressure her.
After a rehearsal, I asked Jennifer to stay. "Jennifer," I said, "you don't seem to have enough energy to play the flute. Is anything wrong?"
With maturity beyond her years, she looked up at me with her big blue eyes and said, "I have cystic fibrosis and I'm going to die."
As tears clouded my eyes and a lump came to my throat, I asked with difficulty, "What is cystic fibrosis?"
"It's an inherited disease," she explained, "with a thick sticky mucous that clogs my lungs and airways, making it hard for me to breathe. My older brother died two years ago of the same disease, but luckily my younger sister doesn't have it."
"Why did you take up the flute since you have trouble breathing?" I asked.
In a small but determined voice, she responded, "I've always wanted to play the flute and love it, even though I can't make a sound."
I wanted to hug her as if she were my own child, and when she left, I sat down heavy haerted, having trouble holding back the tears.
As the weeks passed, Jennifer coughed and choked more, and during one of our rehearsals, her seat was vacant. I was told she had had a serious breathing attack and would be out for a few days.
When she returned to band, Jennifer tried playing the flute like she had never been ill. I began teaching the flute players three new notes. Each student played them for me to make sure they knew the fingerings. When I came to Jennifer, I decided to jump to the next player because the notes were higher and more difficult.
"I want to try it, too," Jennifer said softly. Lifting the flute with her delicate hands, she put the instrument to her lips, and out came three beautiful notes. I never saw a broader smile on a child's face, like she's been touched by an angel. There was stunned silence, then the band broke out in cheers and loud applause, and yelled, "All right, Jennifer!" It was a moment to be remembered.
We never heard her play again. The principal came into the band room the following rehearsal and informed us that Jennifer had died quietly in her sleep. There wasn't a dry eye in the band.
She left all of us with wonderful memories of her courage and what it was to never give up....Jennifer's silent flute will be forever missed."
I play the flute in the school band too, and I do know how hard it is to play the flute, or any instrument for that matter, should you encounter any respiratory illnesses. Apart, of course, from the loserish instances where we choke on our saliva in our anxiety to breathe quickly to 'catch' the next note, and cough violently, in the end resulting in the missing of the whole phrase of melody. Those loserish instances somehow always seem to find me.
But point aside, yes, sadly cystic fibrosis almost always causes death. Often, the only way to rectify cystic fibrosis is lung transplantation as the situation worsens. Most individuals with cystic fibrosis die young, often in their mere 20s and 30s.
1 out of every 2500 children is born with cystic fibrosis, and cystic fibrosis is easily one of the most common fatal inherited diseases around. However, Wiki says people without cystic fibrosis are born with two working copies of the cystic fibrosis transmembrane conductance regulator, while only one is needed prevent the disease itself.
I wonder then if it would be possible to create a sort of 'vaccine' against this disease. Cystic fibrosis can be detected at a rather early age, prior to birth through genetic testing or in early childhood through a sweat test. Since there is much potential for a child's body to adapt to changes in the early stages of life, and with our current technology of stem cell research, I suppose the answer to cystic fibrosis' deadly questionaire could very plausibly be found in the near future.
My idea of that answer would perhaps be introducing foreign cells, genetically altered for it not be rejected by the child's body, or perhaps cells from the unaffected parents or siblings to reduce chances of rejection, little by little, until the child's body is fully adapted to the new cells.
I do suppose it would again, like my last theory on combatting serine-deficiencies, potentially clash with our stand on bioethics. Against this debate between religion and a hope for a better science, I hope to find a midpoint somewhere, accepted both by religion and Science.
I suppose religion would state everything happens for a reason, and that God has plans for everyone. And after people who are true inspirations - Stephen Hawking, Helen Keller and the likes, I suppose anyone could achieve, should they believe in themselves, despite any physical disabilities.
And yet, in all the splendour of my secure life of air-conditioned rooms and comfortable beds, I cannot possibly fathom the feeling of living a life, cradled in the arms of the Grim Reaper each day. It would be as Jewel the unicorn put it so aptly in C.S Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, it would be as if you drank water, and it were dry water, or if the sun rose each day, but it was a dark sun.
Life wouldn't be life, would it?
Sometimes I think I take my life for granted.
too beautiful ;
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