The Baby MEG Study, Part II

One year ago, Junior participated in a baby MEG study. The study required him to sleep on a little bed, with the top of his head ensconced in a little hollow within the neuroimaging machine. At 13 months, he was a reliable twice-a-day napper, so we scheduled the study for his morning nap. However, being in a new environment with lots of unfamiliar, very businesslike people distracted him from his routine. The study coordinator and I spent an hour trying to soothe him, and eventually he fell asleep. Five minutes later, the research team requested that I scooch his head just a little bit more into the hollow. That woke him up, ended the study, and we walked out of there with enough money to fund many new baby outfits. So...worth it!

Note: MEG stands for magnetoencephalography. Here is further reading, if you wish, ducklings.

On Monday we went back. The study was different this time, since Junior can now follow instructions. First, they attached some sensors:

Next, they scanned his head with an instrument that looks like a handheld barcode reader. The corresponding 3D image appeared on a nearby laptop, because we live in the future. Then, when the team was ready, we went into the sealed room where the machine lay. "Our old nemesis," Junior and I said, in unison.

He lay down, and his head was almost too big for the hollow space this time around. A monitor hung from the ceiling above his feet. For the study, he had to keep his eyes on the center of the screen as images flashed and the baby MEG scanned his brain activity.

And, thank goodness, he was perfect. He dutifully watched the images, limiting his disruptive activities to picking his nose and lifting his legs to touch his toes (which blocked his line of sight). There were maybe 10 videos, each one ranging from 15 seconds to one minute in length. The images were tiny and I had trouble identifying all of them. So I used that as a way to keep Junior interested, asking him, "Does that one look like a polar bear or a snowman?" and "That must be a garden gnome! Do you know what a garden gnome is?" Shapes showed up, too, in various locations onscreen (e.g. to the right instead of in the center) depending on the video file.

Things started to look a little dicey about halfway through, as Junior became more squirmy (remember: he's two!) and started demanding to see videos of trucks instead. The researchers obliged by pulling up another window for some YouTube goodness. After every image video, he got to watch maybe 20 seconds of trucks. I also lied promised him that he could watch all the videos he wanted when we got back home.

When we finished, the study coordinator gushed that it "went really well!" As our reward, we got two gift cards. I plan to use them to buy Junior some new jeans, since he's outgrown a couple of pairs. And, y'know, momma might need a li'l something for transporting him to and from the study via my legs. New shoes, perhaps?

I took Junior to a nearby playground to stretch his legs:

For both of us, it was the perfect end to the morning.

TL;DR: Junior did a study FOR SCIENCE!!!

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This post is brought to you by my sudden realization that the year's almost over! Aiyah!

Stop Taking Multivitamins!

I stopped taking multivitamins around the time I transitioned to Whole Paycheck Foods for my grocery shopping. Previously, I was a religious pill-popper, taking my handy compacted supplements every day at breakfast time. Then, one day, as I was fussily oscillating between a $25 bottle versus a $14 one of Whole Food Women's One Daily Multivitamin, something inside me threw up its hands and said: MEH.

From that day forth, I got my vitamins and minerals from actual foods. I transferred my adoration to Michelle Obama and went to myplate.gov to see what I should put in my face. After a thorough, two-second review of the entire site, I created my very own daily plate usually consisting of the following :

...You get the idea. And yes, I drink beer daily, doncherknow it's a requirement for Boston residents?

Anyhooters, science has finally vindicated my bold lifestyle move of completely replacing daily supplements with a tasty combination of water, yeast, malt, and hops! This article describes three new studies that have experts abuzz with tsk-tsk sounds for multivitamin believers. Since 'tis the season for giving, I shall handily summarize the studies for you:

Study 1:
n = 6,000 males over age 65
t = 12 years
Method: Battery of tests every few years to check memory function
Findings: No difference between control group and focus group
Caveat: 9% decreased risk of cataracts, 8% reduced risk of cancer compared to placebo group

Study 2:
n = 1,700 heart attack survivors
t = 55 months
Method: Daily regimen of high doses of vitamins and minerals or placebo pills
Findings: Pill fatigue; no difference in deaths, second heart attacks, strokes, or serious chest pain

Study 3:
n = 27 studies on vitamin and mineral supplements with over 450,000 people
t = Probably a long time, like the attention span of a Baby Boomer
Method: Research review by U.S. Preventive Services Task Force
Findings: No evidence that supplements offer benefits for heart disease or can delay death from any cause; minimal benefit for cancer risk

AHA! AHA! I win because science!!!!

"But Fragrant Elephant," you protest, "the study populations have statistically significant health baselines from a vibrant young pachyderm such as yourself!"

To which I respond--First of all, you just made up the term "health baselines," because you have no idea what that means.

Second, why am I talking to myself? The snow swirling outside my window must be responsible for my extra helpings of silliness.

This post brought to you by IT'S ALMOST CHRISTMAS VACATION AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!

My Inadequacy is Overwhelming

My boss' boss brought his two little sons to work, and after the mandatory "Oh, new interns!" jokes subsided, the older boy (who was clutching a hardcover copy of Quantum) solemnly told us about his blog and handed out his business cards. He's a tutor. He's 10. His blog is about quantum physics. I read it and cried giant woman tears of inadequacy. You, too, may read it and weep! theoriesofquantum.blogspot.com

"First World Problems" meme from quickmeme.com.
Workaround for saving the file from this tumblr site.

With that, I bid you Happy Friday!

Flocculation Friday

I liked Pliny best, although Heady Topper was good out of the can.

You know you're in a room full of nerds when a west coast vs east coast IPA stand-off includes a demonstration and lecture about yeast flocculation. We had an Englishman present during the libations, leading to jokes about how the Brits flocculate when abroad.

Last night's beer-tasting played out like the last panel of The Oatmeal's comic about extremism. We didn't talk about outer space while drinking microbrews, though--we mostly joked around and ended the night watching YouTube videos.

Of course, we had to tell The Engagement Adventure, which will be up in comic form next week! (Check back here for links, or stalk my work at fragrantelephant.com.)

Know what else is undergoing flocculation right now? The subcutaneous fat in my abdominal region. Just kidding! In biology, that actually means the asexual aggregation of microorganisms. I have no idea what that means. I just wanted to sound smart.

So in conclusion: flocculation.

Happy Friday!

Book Review: The Demon-Haunted World (1995)

Astrophysicist Carl Sagan wrote this book before he died of pneumonia in '96, after a long struggle against myelodysplasia. Sagan is credited with popularizing science -- remember Contact, the 1997 film starring Jodie Foster and Matthew McConaughey? That was based on a 1985 novel written by Sagan. He's a cool nerd.

The Demon-Haunted World reminds readers of the hysterics our species is capable of when we're not using our critical thinking skillz. Sagan writes about UFO mania (X-Files wooo!), faith healing, witch hunts, and about this one guy who claimed to channel a thousand-year-old spirit and was a sensation in Australia -- and then he admitted he had made it all up -- and then people wrote to him saying, "We believe in you." LOL

This book comes before our internet age, so I find it a little quaint, especially since he advocates making information readily available and I just used Wikipedia about ten times to write the first paragraph of this post. But of course, the point is not just to regurgitate facts -- Sagan earnestly believed that human societies have to promote science learning to improve the human condition, and science learning means questioning everything. Be skeptical!, he urges readers. Think it through! But if even if you have all the evidence and you know you're right, don't be a jerk about it!

Sagan says: learn science (the earlier the better), or at least cultivate a scientific (read: evidence hoor) mind.

I have zero talent in anything above the science basics, which is a shame because otherwise I'd be a veterinarian right now and my real life-based cat comics would be supplemented with dog, hamster, fish, ferret, bird, and who-knows-what-else comics. I might even have drawn humorous strips of me learning the veterinary ropes on cows and horses and pigs and chickens. Or alligators? But, alas.

Where was I? Oh yes, The Demon-Haunted World. It's a good read because of its instructive examples, although he does go on for too long about alien abductions. Also, ironically--for all his arguments against the notion that science is too hard, Sagan completely lost me when he explained Maxwell's equations demonstrating the electromagnetic field. Heck, I would've skipped them even if the symbols had shown up correctly on my Kindle. SCIENCE IS HARD OKAY

But yes, science is a candle in the dark. The wax is solidified ethics, social responsibility, and moral decency;  the wick is intellectual curiosity and talent; and the flame is knowledge. 

Everything is better with sparkles. Just ask vampires.

(And Carl Sagan turns over in his grave...)

Happy Friday!

Cold Like My Heart

Last night Sheba and I came home to a chilly apartment. At first I didn't notice anything amiss, because I immediately flew into a flurry of sweeping and mopping. Before you allow yourself to be dazzled by my dedication to next to godliness, let me add the disclaimer that 400 square feet only takes about 10 minutes to tidy up, before the next wave of hair, fur, and dust comes along. Anyway, I finished up, teeth-fully and facially hygiene-icated, and plumped myself into bed.

Then I realized it was cold. Like my heart. I checked and it was 56°F (13°C) inside my apartment! I cranked the thermostat to 70°, but couldn't hear the pinging sounds of my baseboard heater working. I shoved my bed aside and peered at the poptop control valve, which looks like a little box with a skinny lever poking out. I fiddled with the lever a bit and accidentally lifted the top of the box off, exposing the thingybob inside, you know, the doohickey connected to the pipes. It was warm. So why wasn't it heating my apartment?

I texted my predicament to Boyfriend, who offered to come pick me up. But as a modern independent woman, I had to take a stand. No chill will drive me from my home! So I put on my comfy socks stolen acquired from a friend's hospital stay, and my stylin' North Face running hat, and settled down to outfight the cold with my body heat. And of course there's my Super Sikrot Weapon:

BAM! Take that, lack of heat! I have my own personal space heater, and it's the size of a breadbox and responds to visual cues!

But Sheba alone is not my Super Sikrot Weapon. No, it is the combination of her microJoules of energy, my Tempur-Pedic® bed, which as we all know is really alien technology, and my Comforter of Friendship, bequeathed unto me after grad school. (Hmm, it's been that long? I should probably wash it...)

Anyway, when these three become one, they utterly destroy the second law of thermodynamics, which states that heat cannot spontaneously flow from a cold location to a hotter location. So instead of poor me miserably and unwillingly losing heat like a frying pan left to cool on a stove top, my Super Sikrot Weapon sucked in all the heat in the room to power my deep slumber, also known as the sleep of the innocent.

I called my apartment manager this morning and was assured that they'll look into it because it's probably a building problem. In the meantime, if you would like to rent the mobile component of my heat Weapon (pictured above), she is available during the daytime and only costs a can of high-end cat food! Due to neutering, I only have one in my supply, but I'll get on the waiting list for a cloning program and perhaps you too can have your very own Sikrot Weapon! Bed and comforter not included.

I'm so moving out this year. First the laundry machine is dead for three weeks, now this... (grumble, grumble)

Happy Monday!

I Feel Fat

I know what you're thinking: "Based on the title, I'm in for an insightful and incredibly deep blog post!"

You are wrong!

I was a fat, happy baby. Now I am distinctly less happy, partly because I conform to society's desire for me to not be fat. Dammit. In the Philippines, a sleek body is easily achieved; no matter how many tropical fruits and deep fried meat dishes you shovel down your gut, you're gonna sweat it out, either by cursing vigorously at the traffic or the economic state of the country, by standing under the sun for more than two seconds, or by worrying about the next natural disaster that will force you to paddle down a main street. Because our bodies are roughly 70% water, constantly losing that water via sweat glands makes you thin! It's science.

By contrast, the US poses a difficult challenge for aspiring bikini models like myself. It gets bloody cold up here, which makes your blood move sluggishly throughout your body, which in turn causes your proteins to produce amino acids that bind with fat cells. There's also moon phases to consider, because when the moon is full its gravitational pull is stronger than usual, which has a negative effect on neuroplasticity, thereby compelling the ingestion of all food items, and creating a constant craving for sweets and/or buttered movie popcorn. Again, it's all science.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that I have a big project at work and it's stressing me out and I keep stuffing my face and sitting down instead of moving around and drinking too many beers and oh my God it's making me FAT! If only I had a weapon to combat this trend, like, say, mental discipline! If only!

Oh, the humanity!