hearing the squeak

In Wallace's Infinite Jest, US and Canadian state officials live in fear of a secret terrorist group of Quebec separatists.  Members of this terrorist group have lost both legs and hence move about in wheelchairs; they are known as the wheelchair assassins.  They may appear handicapped, but they are very good at what they do and are greatly feared.  They can strike at any time;  the only warning the victim has before the attack is to hear the squeak of wheelchair wheels. High ranking state officials live in fear of "hearing the squeak".  
Here I sit in Albuquerque awaiting liver transplant number four.  It can come at anytime, day or night without warning.  When my cell phone rings with a call from Florida it is time.  I fear the moment even as I hope it comes soon, for I know that without the transplant my time is short.  Still, I live in fear of "hearing the squeak".

vorticies

     I pick up the little black bug.  It’s feet start to move violently as it no longer senses the security of the floor.   I watch it kick pathetically, helplessly and then I toss him into the toilet.  He floats on his back.  He continues to kick.  I flush the toilet and watch as the water swirls into a vortex that whirls him around and around and slowly, with each turn pulls him in and down.  But he continues to kick, the faster he swirls the faster he kicks.  He knows he is in danger but there is nothing else he can do.  He does not give up; I watch him kick as he swirls and disappears down the vortex.  

     What kind of vortex have I encountered?  The waters swirl around me and pull me down with tremendous force.  But at the center of my vortex there is a pole.   The pole is smooth and slippery and hard to hold onto, but it prevents me from going under as long as I hang on.  As I look around I can see only fog and darkness in the distance.  I feel only the swirling water and the smooth, slippery pole that I have wrapped my arms around.  By force of will I have managed to distort my arms into flat rubber bands that wrap around and around the pole.  But the water is fast, and I am tired.  How much longer can I hold on?  I close my eyes and become nothing but rubber band arms wrapping the pole. Who can save me?   

    A face appears out of the fog.  It is distorted and angry.  Why is this face so angry at me?  I am just doing my best to hold on.  Gradually I see that the face belongs to my brother.  He is shouting that I should wake up.  He is demanding a response--- “Can you here me?”  Yes I can, but I cannot speak.  Don’t you see that I am using all my strength to hold onto the pole?  If I speak, I know I shall loose my grip.  So I stare, and try to communicate with my eyes.  Yes I am here, yes I hear you, but I cannot answer.  I cannot answer because I cannot loosen my grip.  Gradually his face fades back into the edge of darkness and fog.  I close my eyes.  I become the rubber band encircling and gripping the pole.  All I can do is hold on.  Who can save me?

susy

feeling much better today in terms of energy and alertness.  Woke right up when Dr. Raj started adding more tests.  he made me promise not to leave until he reads the result today's CT.  fasted to 4pm so this was good practice for Yom Kippur.

SUSY is a class of theories that if true would resolve certain theoretical issues in elementary particles.
My group just finished up a search for some SUSY particles and the non-discovery was presented by
my student Marcelo at the SUSY2011 conference at Fermilab.  The dark matter particle that I am looking for at the bottom of various mines would be a totally new kind of matter and might turn out to be a SUSY particle.    So SUSYHUNTER keeps looking, but you can bet he packs a lunch!

where is Jacksonville?

I grew up in Montclair New Jersey, but my parents were in love with Manhattan and we went into "the city" often--- museums, dramatic plays, hot chestnuts from a grubby cart on a cold day.  Later, I would take the 66 bus to the Port Authority on my own.  The bus goes through the  Lincoln tunnel, and from a distance you can see lower Manhattan towering over the  Jersey swampland.  Then there is this really ugly part of the road where all you can see is the broken brown concrete of decaying roads and overpasses.  (You have plenty of time to study this as there is usually major traffic.)  Then, as you round that last 180 degree turn into the tunnel,  you see the city once again.  Now is is close up,
shining over the Hudson.  Bright lights, big city. Your pulse quickens.

Where is Jacksonville?  If you take out a map of Florida and put a dot where every (say) CVS pharmacy is (most conveniently done with google earth)  you will find an enhancement,  an overdensity, in the north east corner of the state.  That is Jacksonville.

just the facts

i got carried away by amanda's encouragement that I write a memoir.  probably best if I keep that private
and keep this blog as more of a health update.

History Lesson

On TV at the hotel in Jacksonville it is sports sports sports, some weather, and all Fox all the time.  Not so different from any hotel anywhere in the US.  Constant exposure to "main stream" US culture makes me think back to my experience-- little things which add up to give me a totally different perspective on the US.  (I say US so as not to be so provincial as to suggest that the US is all of America). 

My brother had tried to warn me.  We were walking home from school, I was in the third grade, and Bruce asked me a question: “If everyone but you thinks something is true, is it possible that everyone is wrong but you?”  No, of course not.  I was the easy going, go along to get along kid and my brother was always making trouble.  These are deep personality traits, but that doesn’t mean we cannot learn.  If everyone says the dog is a cat, does that make it true?  No, I thought, of course not.  But this was an academic question.  Why would everyone say a dog is a cat?  I didn't get it. 

So many years later I still remember Shondra Peobles, the toughest girl in 3rd grade.  She had lost her hair in some kind of fire, and the boys in the cloak room would steal her wig and hide it.  But she always got even on the playground.  I had the privilege, through what was called  “districting” where schools got money from property taxes collected from the local district of going to the school on the (literally) wrong side of the tracks.  Districting kept the poor schools poor and black, and the rich schools white, in what was a supposedly an integrated town.   (Things changed rapidly with force busing and the town taxes were equally divided amongst all the schools.) At least half the school and half my friends were black.  Shondra was black, but she was not my friend.  She had no friends.  She walked home alone every day with her head-up-high attitude. 

It was Washington’s Birthday,  and the teacher was giving the history lesson.  Our founding father, hero of the revolutionary war and our first president.  Maybe the greatest american ever.   I was bored, we heard this every year and I had no doubt it was true.  We learned that  his teeth were wood, the best dentistry of the day.   Then Shondra stood up.  She was out of order!  This was not done in the classroom.  “Sit down Shondra!!”.  But she stood there with her head held high and said, “But George Washington had slaves!”  The class went silent.  We all waited for the teacher to respond.  I had learned my history well and knew this could not be true.  The teacher tried to recover--- “yes, but most of the people had slaves back then”.  The class fell apart.  “Had slaves! We were the slaves!”.   Recess was declared.  The lesson was over.  

That was the moment for me “when the truth is shown to be lies”.

going Borat

Wed morning, very early...

slept like a zombie last night.  my Delta flight Monday was major delayed due to a mechanical problem.  To make my appointment here in Jacksonville, I flew SouthWest (kaching! another $490 bucks) to Tampa, drove thru the night and arrived a my hotel in Jacksonville at 5AM tuesday, in time for my 7AM appointment.  

They did the biopsy. result later today I hope.

Yesterday I had Georgia the "nurse" who picked me up from Mayo first drive me to the airport for my bag before taking me back to the hotel.  I offered  half her 24 hour pay $140 but she said "I usually get $40 for picking people up at the airport".  I gave here $120 and said goodbye .  (her total time, 2pm-6pm).   well bless her heart!!  she kept saying that. was so happy to let her go... if I had heard her utter that phrase one more time I think i would have throttled her!!   for another clue, he loves st augustine... thinks it is "quaint".

wish i had taken a picture.  

dear georgia lady. 

i am most disused of your penchant for saying “well, bless yur heart”.  In Brooklyn NY where I am from we find such a remark as very offensive, as everyone knows that the heart is simple mechanical pump with no feeling.  As everyone also knows, it is the pineal gland that is the seat of goodness and true love.  If the pineal gland becomes hard, this is a very bad sign that you are becoming old and developing an uncaring attitude.  Here we like to say “bless your pineal gland”.  it is for this reason that I cannot have you assist me in my future home care. In closing,  

“bless your pineal, and my god keep it soft”.

Sincerely,  Susyhunter

ps  I should also say to you that your remittance was overly ambitious,  bless your pineal.

Year of the rest assured disposable toilet seat cover

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There is no doubt that I am influenced by David Foster Wallace, more than any other author at the moment.  Infinite Jest gets in your brain and is not coming out.  So I have chosen not to fight his influence, but rather to work under his tutorage to find my own voice. Call this the YEAR OF THE REST ASSURE DISPOSABLE TOILET SEAT COVER. It's 2011, and I am 54. I am in Jacksonville Florida once again shopping for parts in the graveyard. It has been 28 years since liver #3 (not including original equipment) and I am waiting for #4.