Trump Has A Job For Me!

You may recall that I put my hat in the ring for several cabinet posts in the new administration. Much to my disappointment, President Elect Trump chose differently-qualified candidates for those positions. I was giving up on my dream of moving to DC and cashing a government paycheck when my phone vibrated, signaling a Twitter Tweet. Thumbing to the new message, I was shocked to read “Raff-give me a call. It will be HUGE. @therealdonaldtrump”. Could my wishes be coming true?

I dialed 1-800-TRMPREZ and arrangements were quickly made. A day later I was on a first class flight to NYC for a meeting with The Donald at Trump Tower. (I would have preferred Mar-a-Lago, but it was totally booked for the First Annual Angry White Woman Beauty and Talent Pageant.)

I entered Trump’s suite and he wasted no time in getting started, “Raff, I’m looking for a science advisor and I saw your blog. You write all that stuff about global warming and evolution, right?”

“Um, no Mr. Future POTUS. The blog that you are thinking about is called Violent Metaphors and it is written by Jennifer Raff. I once checked with her and she isn’t even a relative. And she writes AGAINST all phony science. I suspect she hates you”

“Lester, Jennifer, sounds the same, what’s the difference, no wonder I mixed it up. Or maybe you are a transgender. Anyway, you do blogs too, and you are some sort of doctor or another. I saw your picture with a microscope. I want to give you the enormous new position of Scientist in Chief.”

“I am honored, Incoming Leader of the Free World, but I thought you wanted to cut down on government and drain the swamp. And I don’t support any of your positions.”

“That’s the point, Chester. I want to appoint an advisor that the liberal pussies at the New York Times will like. Keep em confused. Then they won’t notice all the big oil, big business, screw the environment policies that Rex and Scott and I have up our sleeves.”

“Mr. Next Commander-in-Chief, I think they are pretty smart there at the Times. They may have you figured out.”

“Is that why they said Lying-Emailing-Deplorable Hillary had a 90% chance of beating me in the election, which by the way I won by 20 million votes?”

“Yeah, Upcoming Chief Executive, I guess they sort of blew that one, didn’t they. So my job would be to talk good science while you cripple future generations? And I will get paid to do this?”

“It’s even better than that. I’m giving all my advisors a 1% share in Trump Enterprises. By the time we’ve had our eight or ten or twelve years in office you’ll have enough cash to keep your children’s children’s children in air conditioned bomb shelters no matter how hot it gets out there.”

I leave for DC next week. Can you blame me?

#mc_embed_signup{background:#fff; clear:left; font:14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; }
/* Add your own MailChimp form style overrides in your site stylesheet or in this style block.
We recommend moving this block and the preceding CSS link to the HEAD of your HTML file. */

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

//s3.amazonaws.com/downloads.mailchimp.com/js/mc-validate.js(function($) {window.fnames = new Array(); window.ftypes = new Array();fnames[0]=’EMAIL’;ftypes[0]=’email’;fnames[1]=’FNAME’;ftypes[1]=’text’;fnames[2]=’LNAME’;ftypes[2]=’text’;}(jQuery));var $mcj = jQuery.noConflict(true);

What’s Different About This Picture? Changes a Year Have Brought.

The gracefully curved stairway is familiar. I know it is the one we took Michael’s prom pictures on, the one we thought Laury might one day descend on her wedding day. I recognize the foyer light fixture whose bottom curl you can just see at the top center of the photo. I described it many, many years ago in a holiday newsletter. I think “Early Long Grove Bordello Style” was the phrase I used back then. And that glass paneled door in the lower right of the picture leading to the basement–I recall the mess I made scraping the plastic coating off of its window panes.

There is nothing unusual about seeing a brightly wrapped present in someones hands on the staircase. But up until this year the wrapping paper would have been Hannukah blue and white. The wreath on the wall is a first. And most significantly of all, no Santa has ever walked down those steps before.

I have been OK with our decision to move. After all, I instigated it! But the new reality this picture demonstrates really brings it home to me.

I suppose the most important thing is that the house is still filled with smiling, joyful, people enjoying the holiday season. We are happy that a young family, with sons who love the nieghborhood, live in the home (and we thank the new owners for permission to use the picture.) But like the seven pound chocolate bar that mysteriously appeared in the lab yesterday, it is bittersweet.

As for new house construction, we ARE in the homestretch. For a variety of reasons, Barb and I have selected a move-in date of of January 17th (three weeks and counting down), and are holding Ham and Jeff’s feet to the fire to get us there. Despite their screams of agony over their burning toes, they promise it will happen, even if it means giving a subcontractor or two the flaming boot.

The work progresses daily–and nightly, thanks to our all hours tile guy. But much like creating government legislation, we don’t always want to see how the sausage is being made. We have a mailbox, we have top loading washers and dryers, we just don’t have all our lights and cabinets. And still no front walk or front porch flooring–the new subcontractors need to start bringing the bluestone.

With all that in mind, I fearlessly predict that next winter there will be two celebrations–Yuletide in our former home, and the Festival of Lights in our lovely new one.

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

Can’t Make Up Your Mind? It Will be Better in the Morning! A Look at Decision Fatigue.

I go to the front door of the lab to let the Fedex guy in with our 3:30 delivery. He appreciates a moment of warmth and I can use the stretch. My back has stiffened while I have been looking at a continuous stream of prostate biopsies for the past few hours. It has been a steady flow of glass slides, each with their linear array of pink and purple stained tissue. Benign, benign, cancer, benign. With each 10x field I look at, I make another decision. I trust that via my training and experience I have a mental “memory picture” of every pattern that prostate cancer might take and will recognize it when I see it. But as the afternoon ticks by, it gets harder and harder to decide. Is it benign or malignant? In fact, it gets more difficult to make any decision at all. I tell myself I should order some deeper sections, or special stains, or just look at this case first thing tomorrow morning. All logical steps, but what I am really thinking is that I just can’t make one more decision today.

I hear it from Barb, too. We have been working on our house for more than a year and a half now. The series of decisions has cascaded: Should we move, should we build, where should we build, who should build. And then there was the layout phase. Bedroom here, mud room there. Most of those decisions we made together. But once the details of design began, from muntins on the windows, to knobs on the cabinets, it has been almost all Barb. She has found some great help along the way, but the yea or nay comes down to her. All those decisions can just wear her down.

A little research shows that we are suffering from a condition known as “decision fatigue”, a real condition that even has a biological cause. My afternoon inability to pull the trigger on a cancer case fits the classic description–as the day progresses, decisions become harder and harder. Barb’s housing issue is more of a chronic variety that we can shorthand as CDF or Barb Syndrome.

Decision Fatigue has been reported at least since Ancient Rome and the Empire, overcome by Julius Caesar when he decided to cross the Rubicon River– a decision he probably made in the morning. You can temporarily fight DF with a calorie jolt, particularly with a hit of glucose. No word on the benefits of caffeine. A good night’s sleep is what it takes to restore our ability to make sound decisions.

So my desire to hold of on some cases until the morning is a smart one, even if it slows down the turn-around time on my cases. Bedding down today will help me separate the benign from the malignant tomorrow. My patients will benefit from any slight delay. Waiting till morning will even lead to a better job of proofreading this blog.

As for Barb and her more chronic variety of Decision Fatigue, a solid night of sleep will help her out too–but only when she finally gets that night of sleep in our perfectly designed and decorated new home!

————————————————————————————–

If you like what you read, subscribe to our mailing list. No spam, just a little bit of me!

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

————————-

photo credit: Ars Electronica <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/36085842@N06/28652767592″>Pathfinding in the Human-Computer Medicine / Fraunhofer Institute for Medical Image Computing MEVIS (DE)</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>(license)</a>

President Trump, Can I Be In Your Cabinet Too?

Dear President Trump:

It is very cold in Chicago. I hear the weather is better in Washington DC. I also have some friends and relatives there, so I am investigating making a move. I don’t want to relocate without a decent paying job, so can you give me a Cabinet post? I don’t care which one; that is up to you. But just to help, here are my qualifications for some of the positions:

Secretary of State: I can name about 50 countries and can even find most of them on a map. I am not so good on capital cities, but I am a fast learner. I also think it would be cool to get one or two million frequent flyer miles so the airline will give me that nifty black card that George Clooney has.
Secretary of Treasury: As a kid i collected pennies. Now I collect larger bills, and also know how to spend them. Spending lots of money is another way to get miles on those nifty black cards.
Secretary of Defense: I got bullied once and the next day I brought some friends to rearrange the bully’s attitude. That’s the best defense, have some friends do your dirty work.
Attorney General: My son and lots of other people I know are lawyers. I have also been to traffic court. I won. ‘Nuff said.
Secretary of Interior: Only about 83 Americans knows what this person does and I am not one of them. But I will still take the job.
Secretary of Agriculture: I have never seen a working farm but I am tolerant of gluten, lactose, GMOs, ADM and Monsanto. Think of the kick-ass Franken-Crops we can create!
Secretary of Labor: I was in a union in my first job at the Jewel Food Store on Morse Avenue across from the deli. The store manager hated unions just like your administration will. I learned young.
Secretary of Health and Human Services: Did I tell you I was a doctor? Not a brain surgeon like Ben Carson, just a neighborhood pathologist. But we aren’t prima donnas and will work cheap.
Secretary of Education: I went to school for twenty years. And oh yeah, I was a School Board President. Forget it, I am overqualified for this position in your Cabinet.
UN Ambassador: I visited the UN when I was a kid and the tour guide was very nice to me. I want to return the favor.

If you think I would be better at one of the other Cabinet positions, that would be fine with me. Just get me to Washington in time for one of the Inaugural Balls. I promised Barb I would buy her a new dress.

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

Popped but not Profiled-A Lucky Day Police Experience

Sunny Saturday afternoon, driving with Barb, cruising along a wide open, well paved two lane road. Foot edging down on the gas peddle, watching out for traffic but not paying much attention to the speedometer. Taking a curve as tires squeal a bit, and Barb warns of a cop on the shoulder. Slow down while passing the black and white, but a glance in the rearview mirror a moment later shows red and blue lights flashing. Pull over to the side of the road, lower the windows, kill the engine.

I’ve been drivin’ all night…
my hand wet on the wheel.
Radar Love-1973

“Why were you speeding?”

“I wasn’t paying attention, I am very sorry.”

“You were doing 50 in a 35. Been stopped here before?”

“No, sir”

“License and insurance cards please.”

“Here they are.”

“This your address?”

“No sir, we just sold our house, I haven’t changed the license yet.”

He is in his cruiser for a very long time. Barb says he must be writing a ticket. Deep breathing, staying calm, but thinking about all the inconvenience. Court date? Lawyers fees? Fine? A Saturday morning in driver re-education school? It has been years, but have experienced each of those. Not surprising with the hundreds of thousands of miles accumulated commuting every day.

He walks back slowly, holding something in his left hand in addition to license and insurance card. Prepare for the bad news.

“You a doctor?”

“Yes”

“Where”

“About 30 miles from here.”

“You get either the ticket or the speech. Today is your lucky day. You get the speech. There are lots of deer around here, running across the road. You’re not careful, you’ll hit one. And that won’t be your luck day. The deer will win. That’s why the speed limit is what it is. From now on stick to it. No second chances.”

“Yes sir.”

“Here are your ID’s back. And in case you were wondering, this is paperwork I have to fill out with every traffic stop to show that I am not doing any racial or other profiling.”

“Thank you and have a good day, Officer.”

Sticking to the speed limit now, especially on local roads. Drivers behind get aggravated, get edgy. But taking it slow. Glad that middle aged, well-dressed, white docs tooling around in a yuppie car in an upscale Chicago ‘burb, don’t get profiled. Otherwise it might be Saturday school…or worse.

—

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

Can President Trump Follow These 10 Commandments?

Today marks four weeks since E-Day, the most startling election in my lifetime, surpassing even my surprise loss in a youth group election in 1970. The pollsters had that one wrong too.

My loss had very little consequence, Mr. Trump’s victory has all the consequence in the world. I have not been reassured in these past 28 days, as I hear, see, and read less and less that convinces me of the stability I seek as I enter my pre-Medicare years. What would make me a little more sanguine? I know the President Elect (can I call him the PEPOTUS?) likes pledges, maybe I could ask him to sign the following declaration–and yes, my dear Republican friends, I would have expected the same from Hillary.

I, PRESIDENT ELECT DONALD TRUMP, DO SWEAR THAT:

In order to defend the Constitution, I will actually read it, or at least listen to the audiobook while jetting around the country/world.
I will treat electronic communications with due diligence. I will not install a private server in my office. Anyway, who needs a server when you have a Twitter Account?
I recognize that while business is business, being President is NOT business as usual. There are goals and objectives beyond making the most money, having the most property, and having the highest rated TV show. Also, bankruptcy is NOT an option.
I love my family. For the next four years I have committed to love my country more. If I don’t like that order, I never should have run for this office.
I love to keep them guessing, However, I realize this is not the best way to deal with foreign leaders who have devices that can wipe out civilization in less time than it takes me to comb my hair.
For every wall I build, I will also build a bridge. And in honor of Governor Palin, my bridges will lead somewhere.
I will work with Congress, even though I can’t understand why the Democrats re-elected that crazy Pelosi woman as Minority Leader. California can’t fall into the sea fast enough for me.
I will stop talking about illegal voters. In fact, I will stop making things up entirely. But what will happen to my Twitter account?
I won’t put my Presidential election opponent in jail. Yes, Ms Stein, this mean you. But I think your recounts should be illegal. I won.
I swear to be President of all the people, all the time. So help me God.

As it is written, so shall it be.

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

Bonding for Israel Bonds

Last night was a special evening, celebrating as an Honoree of the Israel Bonds Medical and Dental Division. The cold, snowy, evening was brightened by the friends, relatives, and other supporters of Israel who attended. My co-awardees, Dr. Donald Hoffman and Dr. Lee Shulman, both spoke movingly and eloquently of their involvement and advocacy of Israel.

Following a lovely introduction from Barb, I delivered the following remarks:

Thank you Barb, and thank you to the friends and family who have gathered here this evening, and to the many more that could not attend but pledged to buy Israel Bonds. And thank you to Adam Grossman, the Herbstmanns, and the rest of their team for planning this wonderful evening and for honoring Lee, Don, and me. It is quite humbling to be part of such a distinguished trio. I hope to long remember this evening.

But memory is a tricky thing. Neuroscientists can tell us what molecular transmitters are being invoked, and what areas of our brain will light up on a PET scan when we try to recall something from our past. Movies like “Memento”, “Inception” and “Arrival” twist the way we think about memories and time, asking if we can remember what has never happened, or even remember today what might happen tomorrow. We fear diseases that rob us of our memory and are saddened when those with whom we have shared memories pass away. With my parents and my sister Linda gone, no one will remember with me the many Sunday evenings waiting in line for kreplach soup at the Ashkenaz Restaurant on Morse Avenue in Chica

Memories may be fleeting, restricted to short term. Or they can be deeply embedded in our long term memory, staying with us throughout our lives. These memories influence our actions, our beliefs, and our behaviors. Although I was only a seven year old at the time, I share with many of you strong memories of the assassination of John F. Kennedy and the events of that weekend in 1963. I remember Lyndon Johnson declaring in 1968 that he would not seek or accept another term as President. I remember Neil Armstrong and the first footsteps on the moon. All Americans of a certain age remember those things, and have used them to forge their concepts of what this country is.

Yet I also remember things that are not part of the consciousness of all Americans. I remember sitting in my Hebrew school class at Congregation B’nai Zion in Rogers Park when the Six Day War raged. And I remember attending Holy Day services at the lovely North Shore Congregation Israel with a college friend, as news of the Yom Kippur War reached us. By the age of 17, I understood what it meant to have a Jewish homeland, and how tenuous the existence of that homeland could be.

I can’t claim that that understanding was the driving influence in the next phase of my life as I matured and married, becoming a family man. The memories from those days are from weddings, from births, from bar and bat mitzvahs. These were followed by graduations, and another round of weddings and impending ones. Yes, there were nights at JUF physicians dinners, and always contribution to the fund, but it was automatic giving, without real thought as to where the needs were greatest, what the money was to be used for.

Finally, eight years ago, Barb and I, accompanied by old and new friends, made the voyage to the State of Israel. We toured the country and we saw the cities and the historic relics. We kayaked down the Jordan River. We met some, though not enough, of the native people. It is remarkable how this blessed land of milk and honey has survived, despite the curse of being at the crossroads, and in the crosshairs, of so many civilizations and religions. Israelis have the resourcefulness and creativity that have made the country a leader in patent production and tech start-ups. Dr. Zarka will tell us of the advances in medicine, and in techniques for the preservation of life and limb, that have emerged from a nation that must always be in a state of defense.

Our children Michael and Laury, as well as their spouse and soon-to-be spouse Becca and Alex, preceded us in visiting Eretz Yisroel. So when Barb and I made it there we completed, in reverse, my favorite Hebrew phrase—l’dor vador—from generation to generation. And we pray this will go on for many generations to come.

Good enough reasons to support Israel and the Israel Bond project. But of course there is more that we must always remember As Barb mentioned in her introduction, the first time we met we were watching a local professor speak of holocaust denial; nothing less than an attempt to eliminate the existence of, and our memories about, six million Jews. A few moments ago I spoke on the fragility and quirkiness of memory—because of the existence of Israel the holocaust is one memory we will never forget.

As we know, we cannot predict our changing national mood and behavior, making it all the more important that we, and the whole world, knows that Israel thrives. Israel Bonds is a great way to support the state of Israel while sharing that knowledge. I thank you all for this honor, for your attending tonight, and for making Israel Bonds an important and ongoing part of your portfolio.

It was a wonderful night, and if any blog readers are moved to purchase Israel Bonds, an interest paying investment that also makes a great gift, then drop me a line at les.raff@post.com. I will connect you with the proper people to make the sale. It will warm you up on the next cold Chicago winter night!

————————————————————-

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

How Long Is Limbo? Building a House in the Post-Recession Era.

homefront — A house is not yet a home–but soon.

If you build it, he will come–Field of Dreams

Yes friends, we are now in December. That means our house is currently in month 13 of construction. I suppose I can consider it a teenager, and we all know what that can be like.

“Why is it taking so long?” you might legitimately ask. In a year, HGTV could buy, sell, renovate, remodel and re-market about 200 homes, and we are still working on one. Based on her advertising claims, there is one realtor in the Chicago area who has sold just short of 4 million homes in the time it has taken us to get this far, with the end zone still a bit beyond the horizon.

If we had to pinpoint one factor getting us stuck in the mud it would be subcontractors. They come, they go, they leave behind a mess and an unfinished job, promising to be back “soon”. Others are more consistent, but slow, which we hope means craft-worthy. And yes, there have been a few mulligans and redos. Some are based on design changes we have initiated, some have been the creative decisions by architect Jefferson (or is Hamilton the architect-I keep forgetting), some related to out-and-out subcontractor errors. Why oh why would the stucco guys change the stucco color in the middle of the job? And then there have been the unexpected add-ons like a radon remediation system that is now a local requirement.

So what is the status of the final “product”? The exterior and landscaping are close to complete, just lacking rear sod, stone walkways and a bit of carpentry. On the interior, floors are finished in most rooms, all base cabinets are in, the stairs are complete, the tile dude sings and grouts on. One of our biggest frustration is with the HVAC installation, which just never gets finished off. Come on guys, it will just take you one more day.

We are still looking forward to the installation of countertops, hardware, handles, light fixtures, and all those appliances that ABT has been holding for us since before the the Cub’s season even began. Patching here, electric work there, and a whole lot of final painting are still ahead. It will all come together, just not right now. And interest rates tick up, up, up. Time is truly money.

We will love our new home, with its open design, great entertaining spaces, lovely views and peaceful pond. The neighborhood is great, every home with friendly dogs and even friendlier dog walking neighbors. And no more long commutes down Half Day Road in energy sapping afternoon traffic. We are just so eager for the move…

In the meantime, we prepare for the holidays in our rental. The chillier weather has blessedly sent the skunks into hiding. It has also revealed two massive hornets nests in the now bare parkway trees. But as my dad used to say, “This too shall pass.” At least we know we will be long gone before the trees are green and the hornets buzzing once more.

Hey–if you haven’t read our blog about pathology reports and your health, or have not taken our brief survey, please click here. We are collecting important data.

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name