Writing Contest Today

Enjoy this pretty picture of leaves while I take a brief hiatus from the blog today. Well, not really, 'cause here I am. But I'm saving my writing energy for the Writers Weekly Fall 2011 24-Hour Short Story Contest. It starts at 1:00pm EST today when I'll be emailed the topic for this fall's contest. I then have 24 hours to come up with my story.

My niece is doing it, too. There may still be spots if you want to participate. Winners will be announced before Halloween.

1st Place: $300
2nd Place: $250
3rd Place: $200

Entry fee is $5. You can see the complete list of 85 prizes and sign up here:
http://www.writersweekly.com/misc/contest.php

Robots



Robot connecting classes remotely during a recent company training.


The August 1, 2011 Sports Illustrated ran an article about a boy named Lyndon Baty who attends school in his tiny Texan town via robot. Lyndon was born with PKD (polycystic kidney disease), an often fatal disease. As Gary Smith describes it in his article "A Boy and His Bot," Lyndon was born with a hole in his heart, a quarter-sized stomach, dangerously high blood pressure, and enlarged kidneys full of cysts. He was given 14 days-2 years to live.

Today, Lyndon is a freshman in high school, though he doesn't actually set foot in the school. He attends his 68-student high school virtually, using a robot to maneuver through hallways and sit in class. Like the other students, he can go from classroom to classroom and interact with his schoolmates. His face is visible on the screen that is the robot's "head." The other students see and talk with Lyndon and he sees them. The robot braves the germs and dangers at school while Lyndon stays home controlling the robot through his computer. It is the only way he can attend school.

We use a robot at my workplace on occasion, too. Like Lyndon's, the person controlling our robot remotely is visible on the monitor screen. He or she can move about the room and interact with other people and can even zoom in if there is something particular he needs to view. Unlike Lyndon, we haven't realized the robot's full potential. Often, our robot remains stationary and simply replaces other virtual meeting tools like video conferencing and Skype. We're still exploring the many ways in which the computer can be used. For now, it simply replaces the need for people to travel to a meeting.

Who knows what the future might bring. In the SI article, one teacher quips that robots may be the wave of the future. Perhaps one day we'll all live virtual lives from the comfort of our homes. I, for one, hope not. But as Lyndon and other explorations into the world of robotic utilization prove, the robots are coming!


To read the full Sports Illustrated article, click here:  http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1188682/1/index.htm

I'll Have the Kibble du Jour

The first time I went to Paris, I couldn't get over the fact that dogs were everywhere. They were in the stores, the buses, the trains, and the restaurants. It was bizarre. Especially for someone like me, who didn't have a dog at the time and found it very strange to sit next to someone else's dog in a restaurant.

On my more recent trip to Paris, I expected to see this again, but only encountered one dog in a restaurant. He was happily eating french fries from his owner's plate. My dog loves french fries, too, but I cannot imagine taking him to a restaurant. He would be straining against his leash and devouring foods off of everyone's plates.

He is so not French.

By The Sea

A dream. To live by the sea. To wander down to the pier and watch the boats swish atop the waves. To listen to the seashell-crashing white noise of the waves. To be entranced by seagulls gliding and diving along the shoreline. To become accustomed to breathing in the smell of salty air and fish, and look out onto the water with your back to the world. Truly, a dream.

My 9-1-1 Emergency

I received this writing pompt:  emergency room.  It wasn't an easy one for me, since I only have one emergency room story to tell. I have been fortunate. Very, very fortunate in many ways, but in particular, I consider it lucky that I have only ridden in the back of an ambulance once.

I was twenty-seven years old. I was sitting in my Tarpon Springs, Florida apartment watching Natalie Wood in Splendor in the Grass and munching on popcorn. It was one of my favorite movies. It should have been a relaxing evening -- it was a relaxing evening. Which made it even more strange when I suddenly had trouble breathing and thought I was having a heart attack.

My five-year-old son was asleep in his room. I didn't know what to do. Was I really having a heart attack? It didn't make any sense. I was generally healthy. But I couldn't breathe. I had pains down the left side of my body and through my shoulder. That was a sign of a heart attack, wasn't it?

Then the phone rang. It was a friend of mine from Ohio. "I think I'm having a heart attack," I told her. My breath was labored. She could tell something was wrong.

"Either you call 9-1-1, or I will," she said.

I knew she was right. I reluctantly called 9-1-1, not sure what I would do with my son. I called my grandmother who lived a few miles away. It was nearly 11:00pm. I'd never called so late. I'd never really called her needing anything, but I needed her now.

The medics got there before she did. They started running vital signs on me and asking me questions. They started to transport me to the ambulance, assuring me that they would watch my son until my grandmother got there. I felt panicked. What did they mean by "watch him?" Take him into custody? Stay there and babysit? Calling 9-1-1 had been a horrible mistake. I'd changed my mind. But then I saw my grandmother get out of her car and she got Mac and followed me to the hospital.

They ran their tests and everything came out normal. The doctor decided I'd had a panic attack and that I needed psychiatric care. Psychiatric care! Panic attack? Why would I have a panic attack? I'd been sitting at home watching one of my favorite movies. They released me and I went home, worrying that I was stressed-out and delusional beyond belief. I'd had no idea I was such a mess.

Then I talked to my Dad. I was telling him about the night before: the movie, the popcorn, the heart attack feeling and the doctor's prognosis. "Hhmm," he said. "That sounds just like what happened to your mom when she had gallstones. She had to go to the hospital after eating popcorn and they told her it was all in her head. I think they said she was having panic attacks, too."

Sure enough, I had gallstones. I saw a surgeon and had my gall bladder removed at the age of twenty-seven; the same age my mother was when she had hers removed. But I didn't call an ambulance to take me to the hospital. I drove myself. I've been very, very lucky.

First, A Song

"My name is Pedro. I sing for you. The Spanish, they love the music. Is romantic."

Jennifer cringed. Her stomach tightened into a ball of knots as Pedro began to serenade them. Randy reached across the table and tried to take her hand. Jennifer saw a lumpy box poking out of his breast pocket and quickly grabbed a few tortilla chips. She dipped them into the salsa before Randy could touch her. Tomato juice dripped down her wrist and along her forearm. She dropped the mess onto her plate and wrapped her arm in the linen napkin.

Randy scooted his chair closer to her and draped his arm across the back. She was pinned in by Randy's chair on one side and Pedro on the other. Her stomach lurched. She had to get out of there. Desperate, she snatched another tortilla chip from the basket and scooped up as much salsa as she could. She hurriedly brought the clump of food toward her face and then dropped it into her lap. The salsa splashed across her skirt.

"Oh no! I've got to go wash this out."

Jennifer's chair scraped against the wood of the floor, momentarily drowning out the baleful sounds of Pedro's love song. She inched toward the singer, whose eyes closed with emotion as he crooned to the couple. Jennifer impatiently tried to squeeze past him, but didn't have the gumption to knock his arm and send his fingers skittering across the strings.

"Excuse me."

Pedro tilted his head back and howled his love. "Excuse me!" she repeated loudly.

Pedro opened his eyes and took in the scene. A panicked young woman. A red stain on her lap. A look of despair as she hurried away from her lover. Pedro's volume dropped and he quietly strummed the strings, moving out of Jennifer's way and turning his attention to other couples; couples who were smiling into each other's eyes instead of running away.

"Hurry back, Jenny-bear. I have something I want to ask you," Randy said in a sing-song voice to Jennifer's back.

Jennifer froze for a moment, stiffening slightly before grabbing her purse. She held her skirt away from her legs and hurried off. She hoped she looked like a concerned young woman on her way to clean up as she brushed past people and headed not toward the restroom, but toward the front door.

An Interview With Sunny, Whose Child Is Autistic



Another insightful look into the world of autism is the movie "Temple Grandin."
Temple Grandin is an autistic woman who later earned a PhD for her work
with animal behavior, namely cows.



A year ago, Sunny’s two-year-old son, Wyatt, was diagnosed as being autistic. Now three, he still exhibits most of the symptoms associated with autism: stimming, a lack of any verbal and very little non-verbal communication, rocking and banging his head, and poor eye contact. Over the past year, Sunny has changed his diet to a gluten-free, casein-free (GFCF) elimination diet and has seen a change in his behavior.

ME: How did you first learn about the gluten-free, casein-free diet approach to autism?

SUNNY: I was looking through a gluten-free cookbook that I’d borrowed from a friend who has Celiac disease and it talked about how gluten affects people with autism. So I followed up and researched it more on the internet.

ME: What was Wyatt like before you started the diet?

SUNNY: He used to scream and throw himself down and throw tantrums. He’d bite me and pull my hair. I couldn’t discipline him. Sometimes I’d try and he’d just get worse and pull my hair harder and laugh.

ME: But he’s not like that now that he’s not ingesting gluten and casein?

SUNNY: No. He’s like a different person. He smiles and interacts with us. He tries to pronounce words, not just make squeals and squeaks. He’s a lot calmer and loveable.

ME: Do you know why gluten and casein affect him like that?

SUNNY: From what I’ve learned, gluten and casein act like a drug in him. He gets the same kind of reaction.  He gets crazed and wants more and more. And then you have to basically detox him again after he’s had it. His body can’t process the gluten and casein. It turns into peptides, which is like a morphine buzz, and then he has tantrums and gets vicious. I wonder if the morphine effect even blocks him from having pain because he does stuff that should hurt him, but he just laughs and goes on.

ME: Did the doctors mention the GFCF diet it to you?

SUNNY: No. Not at all. The doctors scoffed at me when I mentioned it at Children’s Hospital. When I kept pushing it, they said they’d heard of it, but that it wasn’t scientifically proven to be effective. They acted like I was doing something wrong; like I wasn’t giving him something he needed in his diet. But when I explained to them that I was using fresh fruit to make pancakes and using wheat-free and gluten-free flours, they said what I was doing was okay.

ME: Do you know whether autism groups endorse it?

SUNNY: Oh, yeah. It’s on every autism site I look at. They all talk about what a difference the GFCF diet makes. But still, the doctors won’t even mention it. It’s crazy.

ME: I know gluten is in wheat and other grain products, but what is casein?

SUNNY: Casein is the protein in milk. But sometimes it has hidden names on labels, so it’s hard to identify. Sometimes it’s called caseinate. Sometimes it’s not listed on the label at all. It can be in soy products, but there’s no mention of it.

ME: I imagine it’s hard to find foods.

SUNNY: Very hard. It’s getting a little easier to find gluten-free foods, but it’s hard to find gluten-free AND casein-free foods. Gluten is hidden in other ingredients, too, like MSG or malt flavorings. And it’s in all kinds of things you don’t know about: make-up, lotions, soap, shampoo, glue, Play-doh… all kinds of things. I’ve taken all those things away so that he doesn’t absorb gluten through his skin.

ME: And you found out it’s in paper, too.

SUNNY (nods): Yes. I didn’t realize it at first, but then Wyatt started chewing his books. He shut himself in my bedroom and literally started eating his books. I took them all away, but he still wouldn’t come out of my room for two days. He wouldn’t do anything; none of the things he usually likes to do. He started screaming and pulling my hair again, and throwing tantrums. It stayed in his system for a full week. And since we didn’t have any books or paper around, he started looking for other things to chew on: clothes, and the tags in our clothes. He was like a drug addict searching for a drug.

ME: Had he ever had reactions like this before?

SUNNY: Yes. One time he had a piece of a bun from McDonald’s and you could see the change in him that night. He went wild, biting and screaming. It took him four days before it went through his system and he was calm again.

ME: What did the doctors say?

SUNNY: They said there were some drugs they could prescribe.

ME: But not the diet?

SUNNY: Not the diet.

The gluten-free, casein-free elimination diet has been endorsed by numerous families of autistic children but is still commonly dismissed by the medical community.