Wordle Bot–Words Rated Daily

Could Wordle become even more pervasive, more viral., more annoying? Yes indeed. The New York Times, the proud owner of my morning headache, has given me one more reason to reach for the Advil bottle. With Wordle Bot, I can now compare my successes with players from, well I guess from everywhere.

And not only does Wordle Bot tell me if my score is better or worse than the average of everyone in the galaxy (I assume it is played on the International Space Station, and probably on Alpha Centauri too) it rates every guess I make — rates them for skill and for luck.

In typical NYT fashion, comments that accompany the ratings are usually gentle and friendly, with remarks such as “Great Job, Honey” or “Oh, that wasn’t correct, but I know you will solve this puzzle on your next try.”

I would like to improve those comments. Here are ten that would be more inspirational on my daily Wordle.

Ten Better Wordle Bot Comments

Did your late grandmother (of blessed memory) help you on that one?
Hey Bozo, you already know there aren’t any Z’s so IT CAN”T BE “ZEBRA.”
Are you high???
If you screw up again you will be canceled.
Guess “PORNO” for a quick surprise.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
Maybe you should give up Wordle for Lent?
I could help you, but then I would definitely have to kill you.
It’s all a Big Lie.
Elon Musk has bought the rights to the word you have chosen. You may not use it.

But in the end, no matter what the comments are, my frustration is –Wordle, I can’t quit you!

Like what you read here? Add your name to our subscription list below. No spam, I promise! ___

#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); ———————————–

I Just Lost in Wordle–Let It Be!

I used to solve the Wordle daily
On my phone, it seemed easy.
But now my joy has ended.
Let it be.

I would pick the likely letters
And make words like “Sprit” and “Spree.”
But today I couldn’t get it.
Let it be.

I felt like a Wordle Ninja
My streak had reached to ninety-three.
Until I hit a stumper.
Let it be.

Today the panic rose within me
As just three letters turned to green
And that was on my sixth try
Let it be.

Yesterday I was an All-Star
“Flair” in TWO, I said with glee.
But today I chucked up.
Let it be.

Some people post their score on Facebook
I did it too, but just rarely.
I’m done with Wordle boasting.
Let it be.

I’ll still read my daily paper
The Tribune and the NYT.
But Wordle thrill is fading.
Let it be.

So I’m back now to the crosswords
With my pen and cup of tea.
Wordle made my heart break,
Let it be.

—————————-

Like what you read here? Add your name to our subscription list below. No spam, I promise! ___

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

How Has Your TV Watching Changed Through The Years?

Wednesday night was Barb’s book club night–a return to in-person book chat after pandemic-driven Zoom sessions. With Barb out of the house, I settled into my favorite chair, Cooper at my side, to watch the next few episodes of Slow Horses, my new favorite TV streamer on Apple TV+.

After maneuvering the proper remote controls (it takes three for us to get to Apple TV+) I prepared to click on Episode 4 of this series about the characters who swim in the bottom of the barrel of the British Intelligence service.

“What the F,” I exclaimed, as the TV screen informed me the episode would be available starting FRIDAY. “I want my Slow Horses now!”

How the times have changed. If you are from my generation, or from the Greatest Generation before me, your TV viewing was rigid. You had your TV Guide, you knew what nights your favorite shows were on, and you were satisfied with one episode of Bonanza, Mission: Impossible, or The Dick Van Dyke Show a week. Miss it, and you could hope to catch it during the summer rerun season. Otherwise, it was gone until, like I Love Lucy, syndication would immortalize it.

The video-cassette recorder was the start of an evolution. Whether you were into VHS or Betamax, you could now go bowling on Thursday night and still catch that week’s episode of Hill Street Blues during some free time over the weekend. No need to ever miss Furillo and Davenport getting hot under the sheets.

That technique served our family well for us for many years. Even in the early 2000s, when some people discovered TiVo and began to record their favorite show digitally, I still loaded a cassette into the old VCR every Sunday night to tape Tony Soprano and friends, praying the cassette wouldn’t break.

Finally, in about 2013, Barb and I discovered streaming. We had started watching Parenthood on NBC during its 4th season. Barb wanted to know how the Braverman family had gotten to where they were. We discovered we could find the old shows on Netflix, and began a ritual of watching an episode of our current favorite show every night. After Parenthood came Breaking Bad, and the Sons of Anarchy, and on and on— through Offspring and many more to our current favorite Yellowstone. (We are on Season 2 while you may be watching Season 4. )

So with the very few exceptions of the shows that we keep up with on a weekly basis (This is Us, The Walking Dead), I expect to have episode after episode of a show available to me–a full season at my fingertips. No stewing through seven long days waiting to find out what is going to happen next.

Thus my frustration with Apple TV+ and Slow Horses. I want to know how these lovable losers are going to screw up next–and I want to know!

——————————————

Like what you read here? Add your name to our subscription list below. No spam, I promise! ___

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

A Prostate Pathologist Pencil Pusher. Making a Better Diagnosis.

Using a pencil in the laboratory? Absolutely verboten. If you write down something in the lab, make sure it’s in indelible ink, magic marker, or perhaps blood. Something, anything, that can’t be erased.

Does a tech need to make a change in what they see on an instrument printout? Our accreditation regulations (courtesy of the College of American Pathologists) are pretty strict:

Original (erroneous) entries must be visible (ie, erasures and correction fluid or tape are unacceptable) or accessible (eg, audit trail for electronic records).
Corrected data, including the identity of the person changing the record and when the record was changed, must be accessible to audit.

In layman’s terms, that means carefully drawing a line through your mistake, initialing, and then dating your correction.

So what am I doing wearing pencil after pencil down to its nub? I am making sure I am the best pathologist I can be.

Through this part of my career, looking at multitudes of prostate biopsies, I have developed, inaugurated, and continuously improved a printed, unofficial worksheet that I use for every prostate case. At the top of each sheet our laboratory information system prints the patient’s name, age, medical record number, and pathology case number. I then search the medical record and add in relevant clinical history, such as previous biopsy findings, PSA values, and results from imaging studies.

The sheet then contains a row for every biopsy location. After looking at each slide I can quickly pencil in whether I think the biopsy is benign or malignant, what the Gleason Grade is, the extent of tumor, and any special studies I want to perform. It is really a very efficient way for me to work.

And I do it in pencil. Why? Because diagnostic pathology is not all ink–it is an art as well as a science. Cancer cells don’t actually have a big “C” on them under the microscope. Malignant changes can be striking, but they can also be subtle, and first impressions can sometimes be misleading.

Sometimes looking at the 7th core in a patient’s biopsy series can affect how I view what I saw on the 3rd biopsy. Sometimes special stains are going to nudge me to call a biopsy malignant that I had originally noodled in as “atypical.” Sometimes viewing a core the next morning will clarify my thinking, or a word from my associates will lead me in a better direction. When any of those things happen I grab my worksheet and out comes my pencil, eraser end first. And I mark down my new, improved, diagnosis.

Eventually, the worksheets get turned into our administrative team, entered into a digital pathology report, and following my electronic signature, become very official. Corrections can still be made, but only through a very regimented procedure, with documentation of every step. No more pencils, no more erasers.

But rest assured, the next morning I will be at the sharpener, getting my favorite diagnostic tool ready for another busy day.

Like what you read here? Add your name to our subscription list below. No spam, I promise! ___

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

I Want to Join a Posse. Got Room for Me on Yellowstone?

With a confirmed date for retiring from my pathology practice firmly set in crumbling concrete the questions as to what I will do with my time in my post-doc life have become more frequent.

My previous post on the topic dealt with the obvious; become a speaker, a pharmacy rep, an IT specialist, or a medical writer. Those all sounded like possibilities when I wrote that blog a few years ago. But recently someone dubbed me (and Cooper the loyal pooch) a posse and now I know–that is what I want to be!

I am not going to tell you about the incident that led to my being anointed with the moniker, but as soon as I heard about it, I knew that occupation fit. I just love the way it is going to look on my future business card. “Les Raff Medical Consultant/Posse Guy.”

Now I know “posse” has a few definitions. It may mean someone’s “crew,” or a bunch of rappers getting together to cut or track or two. But that’s not the kind of posse I want to be.

Nope, I am going for the classic definition: a body of persons summoned by a sheriff to assist in preserving the public peace usually in an emergency. I want to go back to the Wild West…or at least to the Yellowstone Ranch.

I can see it now. The Yellowstone brand on my chest, over my heart. The theme music streams through my head. Dutton gets out the word that rustlers are headed towards our town. I kiss my ranch-wife goodbye, pack my pistols in their holsters, saddle up Peacekeeper my trusty stallion, and head towards my destiny.

Sadly, my fantasy ends right there. I just don’t know what happens next. I have never sat through The Good the Bad and the Ugly, or The Magnificent Seven, and am only on season one of Yellowstone. I’m not sure what crimes rustlers actually commit. And to be honest and transparent, I can barely ride a pony — and if I ever had to use a firearm I would undoubtedly shoot my own face off. But damn, I think I look good in a cowboy hat.

So I may not chase the dream. It is most likely that my retirement life will be very full and rewarding but a little less thrilling than being a posse. But I am warning you–don’t go rustling on my front lawn or the Raff Posse is gonna get you!

Like what you read here? Add your name to our subscription list below. No spam, I promise! ___

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name

My Day At Jeopardy! It Was Long Ago, But Feels Like Yesterday.

Linda, Neil, and I battle it out on Jeopardy!

I went on a treasure hunt and struck gold! Or at least a second-place silver.

Frequent blog readers know of my past Jeopardy! experience as a contestant in 1988 and how my single videotape of the airing was eviscerated by a hungry VCR machine. I had thought my defeat was lost to future generations, but a few months ago I made another try to locate a copy.

A wonderful Jeopardy! resource exists at the J! Archive, a fan site with details of almost every Jeopardy! ever telecast, including players, answers, questions, a variety of statistics, and even a lexicon of Jeopardy! jargon. It was at this site that I began my search.

I was able to locate the episode I appeared in, #893, and noted the name of my two opponents, Neil L, an engineer from El Cerrito, California, and returning champion Linda M, a substitute teacher from Elizaville, New York.

I took my info and ran with it to Facebook, private messaging anyone I found who might possibly have been one of my opponents. I asked each contact if they could have been my Jeopardy! nemesis, and if they had a copy of our show.

Weeks went by with no return messages, and I had given up hope when last week I got a response from one of many Neil Ls I had contacted:

“Sorry for the delay, but I just saw the message. Yes, that was me. And that was you too. Strangely, yesterday I stumbled across a flash drive with recording of the game. We were young. Hope you are well.”

Success! We exchanged a few more messages, and by the end of the day Neil L of El Cerrito had come through with a WMV file of our episode. And transfixed, I watched my (much) younger self “perform.”

A few observations:

I made a poor choice of sportcoats
I never was much of a speller–no wonder I misspelled Dan “Akroyd.”
It was nice having a full head of hair.
Were Harry Caray size eyeglasses really in style?
The technology, with banks of CRT monitors, was light years behind what we witness on Jeopardy! now.
Eugene Finnerman, where are you now?
Alex was young, healthy, and helped me out when he pushed Linda M to overbid on a Daily Double she was sure to get wrong.
Despite the claims of my son, at no point did Alex say “Wrong again, Les.” However, he did appear amazed that I got Final Jeopardy correct–just after he had chastised me for “not making it a closer game.”

For those of you wondering, the final score had Neil at $12,100, while I rode my Final Jeopardy success to a grand total of $2,100. But it was $2,100 of fun. I am looking forward to sharing the whole experience with my family.

And to never again be taunted “Wrong again, Les.”

Like what you read here? Add your name to our subscription list below. No spam, I promise! ___

Subscribe to our mailing list

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

Last Name