We had to take the little guy to urgent care this afternoon. Well, we didn't have to, he wasn't in any immediate danger (and he should be fine, by the way); actually his fever -- the most worrisome part of his illness to me -- has been gone for the past few days, but his diarrhea, lack of appetite, and awful diaper rash have been incredibly stubborn. Today he broke out in these weird red splotches, which I've heard is common (and relatively harmless) among babies fighting viruses, but which prompted us to contact an on-call nurse nonetheless. She gave us some tips on dealing with the diaper rash, and told us to have him see our pediatrician again within the next three days. Being that our usual clinic is closed on the weekend this would mean waiting until Monday, which neither of us really wanted to do -- it's tough to sit there and do nothing when your kid's face is so puffy and red it looks like he just went a few rounds with a tougher infant -- so we packed him up and headed to urgent care.
The urgent care clinic was awesome. Actually, it was just empty which made it awesome. It's relatively new and somewhat hidden, and apparently word hasn't spread yet. We walked in and were seen almost immediately. The staff doted on Lil' S big-time (even with a puffy mug he's still adorable), but he wasn't really having it. He was not in a good mood. Like all parents of infants, S and I have learned ways to distract him and (temporarily) calm him down when he starts bawling. Perhaps the strangest way is for me to start singing Blue Swedes' "Hooked on a Feeling". The "ooka-shakka"'s momentarily mesmerize him, and they usually buy us a half minute or so before he realizes it's all just a front and nothing is really going on that's worth stopping crying over. It's just enough time to slip his jacket on or slide him in his car seat. I was going to do it at the clinic so that the doctor could easily listen to his heartbeat, but I was too inhibited. I have to sing pretty loudly for it to be effective.
I did get to flash some math skills today. The nurse weighed Lil' S, and the scale read 15.28 pounds (he's lost some weight this past week -- expected, but still unfortunate). Apparently it was set to the wrong units -- she wanted pounds and ounces, not decimal pounds -- so she was confused, "Wait, what? 15 pounds, 28 ounces?" I did the math and told her, no, it was 15 pounds, 4 ounces. She wrote it down. I saved us all a few precious moments, and likely a reweigh of a tempestuous baby. Yes, I am a hero. This is why everybody should pay attention in math class.
Speaking of math, I have to go on a quick math jag. One of my Facebook friends and fellow math nerds linked to a story by a Harvard biologist entitled "Great Scientists Don't Need Math". The author's reasoning is basically, I was never good at math and I'm a good scientist. OK, but this is a little like Muggsy Bogues writing an article, "Great Basketball Players Don't Need to Be Tall". The author further argues:
It is far easier for scientists to acquire needed collaboration from mathematicians and statisticians than it is for mathematicians and statisticians to find scientists able to make use of their equations.
My retort is, if a scientist isn't good at math, he* is likely going to struggle just to know when and on what to consult a mathematician. And he's probably going to miss crucial and/or time-saving aspects of his work. He's going to miss better ways to do and think about things. As an example, at work the other day, we were trying to figure out how to solve a geometry problem. I came up with an easy and effective solution using a freshman-year mathematical tool called the dot product. Everybody I work with is very smart and very good at problem solving, but they don't have formal math backgrounds, so they would never have gone about the problem the way I did. They wouldn't even have known something like the dot product was there to be used. They would've figure something else out, surely, but it probably wouldn't have worked quite as well, and it probably would've required more effort and time. The bottom line: you can either disparage the usefulness of math, or you can actually learn it. If you do the latter, and you work in any sort of technical field, you will probably be better at what you do.
OK. I am now dismounting my mathematical high horse.
One of the things the doctor told us to do is to "air out" Lil' S. That is, expose the diaper rash to the open air and let Mother Nature do her thing -- no onesie, no diaper. As a result, we had a little, splotchy, bottomless, cranky baby with diarrhea crawling around the house all day. It might be good for the rash, but it's certainly not good for our floors.
Until next time...
*No, I'm not excluding the notion of a female scientist. I just don't want to type "he or she" a bunch of times.
The urgent care clinic was awesome. Actually, it was just empty which made it awesome. It's relatively new and somewhat hidden, and apparently word hasn't spread yet. We walked in and were seen almost immediately. The staff doted on Lil' S big-time (even with a puffy mug he's still adorable), but he wasn't really having it. He was not in a good mood. Like all parents of infants, S and I have learned ways to distract him and (temporarily) calm him down when he starts bawling. Perhaps the strangest way is for me to start singing Blue Swedes' "Hooked on a Feeling". The "ooka-shakka"'s momentarily mesmerize him, and they usually buy us a half minute or so before he realizes it's all just a front and nothing is really going on that's worth stopping crying over. It's just enough time to slip his jacket on or slide him in his car seat. I was going to do it at the clinic so that the doctor could easily listen to his heartbeat, but I was too inhibited. I have to sing pretty loudly for it to be effective.
[Great song. I first heard it on the "Reservoir Dogs" soundtrack.]
I did get to flash some math skills today. The nurse weighed Lil' S, and the scale read 15.28 pounds (he's lost some weight this past week -- expected, but still unfortunate). Apparently it was set to the wrong units -- she wanted pounds and ounces, not decimal pounds -- so she was confused, "Wait, what? 15 pounds, 28 ounces?" I did the math and told her, no, it was 15 pounds, 4 ounces. She wrote it down. I saved us all a few precious moments, and likely a reweigh of a tempestuous baby. Yes, I am a hero. This is why everybody should pay attention in math class.
[The doctor we saw today looked like the lovechild of Raul Ibanez and Cuba Gooding Jr. I told this to S and it was completely lost on her -- no clue who Raul Ibanez is. I hate it when you come up with a funny look-a-like and nobody is around to get it.]
Speaking of math, I have to go on a quick math jag. One of my Facebook friends and fellow math nerds linked to a story by a Harvard biologist entitled "Great Scientists Don't Need Math". The author's reasoning is basically, I was never good at math and I'm a good scientist. OK, but this is a little like Muggsy Bogues writing an article, "Great Basketball Players Don't Need to Be Tall". The author further argues:
It is far easier for scientists to acquire needed collaboration from mathematicians and statisticians than it is for mathematicians and statisticians to find scientists able to make use of their equations.
My retort is, if a scientist isn't good at math, he* is likely going to struggle just to know when and on what to consult a mathematician. And he's probably going to miss crucial and/or time-saving aspects of his work. He's going to miss better ways to do and think about things. As an example, at work the other day, we were trying to figure out how to solve a geometry problem. I came up with an easy and effective solution using a freshman-year mathematical tool called the dot product. Everybody I work with is very smart and very good at problem solving, but they don't have formal math backgrounds, so they would never have gone about the problem the way I did. They wouldn't even have known something like the dot product was there to be used. They would've figure something else out, surely, but it probably wouldn't have worked quite as well, and it probably would've required more effort and time. The bottom line: you can either disparage the usefulness of math, or you can actually learn it. If you do the latter, and you work in any sort of technical field, you will probably be better at what you do.
OK. I am now dismounting my mathematical high horse.
[Manute Bol and Muggsy Bogues.]
One of the things the doctor told us to do is to "air out" Lil' S. That is, expose the diaper rash to the open air and let Mother Nature do her thing -- no onesie, no diaper. As a result, we had a little, splotchy, bottomless, cranky baby with diarrhea crawling around the house all day. It might be good for the rash, but it's certainly not good for our floors.
Until next time...
*No, I'm not excluding the notion of a female scientist. I just don't want to type "he or she" a bunch of times.
I have had to visit our emergency room twice this year already, and both time the staff there are absolutely amazing. We even had to go on a holiday, and these folks are away from their own families with smiles on their faces to take care of our children. These guys deserve so much credit I don't have words to explain it.
ReplyDeleteTyrone Vanwagoner @ US Health Works - Redmond