Staving off Gattaca

"My father was right. It didn't matter how much I lied on my resume. My real resume was in my cells. Why should anybody invest all that money to train me when there were a thousand other applicants with a far cleaner profile? Of course, it's illegal to discriminate, 'genoism' it's called. But no one takes the law seriously. If you refuse to disclose, they can always take a sample from a door handle or a handshake, even the saliva on your application form. If in doubt, a legal drug test can just as easily become an illegal peek at your future in the company." - Vincent Freeman (Ethan Hawke), Gattaca, 1997

In a surprisingly lucid move, the US Senate is pushing through laws to prevent insurance companies and employers from discriminating against people based on their genetic makeup. So maybe the future depicted in the terrific Gattaca isn't quite on the horizon.

Hang on though, in that movie genetic discrimination was illegal but it happened anyway. I suspect that, eventually, it will happen in reality at some level or the other.

And while I generally abhor the notion, a part of me does wonder whether it might not be logical in some situations, such as working in particular environments or fields. But then, where would one possibly draw the cutoff lines for eligibility? And what of people like the character of Vincent in the film, who wish to do something with every ounce of their being and could perhaps do it better than someone who was genetically more acceptable?

It's a messy question, but I think it's one of those situations where ethics ought to trump cold logic.

*Edited to add the quote & clarity (proofreading is your friend!)

Scotoma

A scotoma is "an area or island of loss or impairment of visual acuity surrounded by a field of normal or relatively well-preserved vision". In other words, a blind spot. And yours truly developed one a few weeks ago. My vision looked something like this:



Though, not as bad as in that picture. I had a light grey spot, not a black one. Thankfully, it's all but gone now thanks to the medication I was on (I'm still on some eyedrops and vitamins), but I have to confess it had me freaked out for a while there.

It appeared without warning one evening - it was the end of a particularly tiring day, and I sat down at my computer only to discover that everything was horribly blurred. I was marginally concerned, but put it down to tiredness and went to bed. It was, as I had hoped, better the next morning. In fact, I thought it had disappeared completely, but then I noticed that it was still a little difficult to read and that sometimes people's faces appeared blurred. Also, my eyes felt strained all the time. I still couldn't couldn't pin down what the real problem was, as it just seemed like slight irregular blurriness; I could still make things out clearly when I focused hard enough. Being the fool that I am, I thought I'd give it some time to go away on its own before seeing a doctor.

About a week later, I figured out what it was by chance. Incredibly, up to this point I hadn't tested each eye individually. Well, actually, I had but not with text. When trying to read with my right eye, I noticed that letters were horribly blurred. After a little experimentation, the grey spot suddenly stuck out like a sore thumb! When I blinked a black spot stood out for a fraction of a second before my eye apparently compensated for it (marvelous, eh?) and turned the spot grey. It was especially conspicuous when looking at white. Naturally, I googled the phenomenon and learned that it was called... a scotoma! At this point I was a little worried because it appeared that scotomas could be associated with all kinds of things - multiple sclerosis, tumours, brain injury - and some scotomas are apparently incurable. Needless to say, an urgent appointment with an eye specialist followed.

Have I mentioned that I'm paranoid? Probably. As you can imagine (or probably can't, actually), all kinds of nightmarish scenarios ran through my head, even though the rational part of me knew that, apart from the symptoms, I didn't have a clue about what was wrong. What if I needed surgery? What if it was permanent? Such were the thoughts that overwhelmed my fragile psyche. I'd rather lose a limb than an eye, or so I told myself while sitting outside the doctor's office. Actually, I still believe that - except for my right arm, which is quite useful (I know this last comment leaves me exposed to a very obvious joke, but so be it). After an interminable wait, it was finally my turn to see the doctor; following a brief examination using high powered lenses the doctor informed me that there was a swelling in my eye that was probably stress related, and that I should take the prescribed medication and take it easy for a while. I assured her that I wasn't stressed, but she seemed skeptical of my claims. Having dwelled on the notion for a while now, it occurs to me that perhaps I was fooling myself, because even though I don't have nearly as many problems as a lot of other people, I spend way too much time worrying about the ones I do have (and sometimes about ones I don't have). So it is entirely possible that I am, in fact, stressed.

Long story short, the medication alleviated the blurriness and strain within a few days, and the scotoma itself faded away to almost nothing after a couple of weeks. It seems to be all but gone now, though I have to continue treatment for a few more weeks. During my follow up visit I was assured by the doctor that it wouldn't recur and was also reminded once again about the importance of relaxing. Which is easier said than done!

Ah, the vicissitudes of life. I can't wait to see what curveball comes my way next. Actually, strike that - I can wait. I can wait a very, very long time, as a matter of fact...

Sleep the sleep of the dead!

Good news for me, I think! The BBC reports that new research by the University of Warwick and University College London suggests that both increasing or decreasing from seven hours of sleep is bad for one's health. Alright, this kind of research always seems neither here nor there and the conclusions regarding too much sleep are, by the researchers' own admission, not very clear. Too little sleep is always bad -

...the result of sleep curtailment to create more time for leisure and shift-work, has meant that reports of fatigue, tiredness and excessive daytime sleepiness are more common...

I feel that way even though I get seven hours (usually), so my personal sleep requirement must be higher than that! DAMMIT! I barely manage seven as it is! And according to the research, changing from seven could be risky... heh heh, so it looks like it's safest to stick to seven. Which is all I have time for anyway, so I guess in the end it's good news for me. Sort of.

Medical Tricorder + Flame Wars

This article on the BBC News website states "An electronic clipboard that has the potential to save lives has been unveiled." My first thought was "at last, we're one step closer to the medical tricorder!" The device, which goes by the rather lame name 'mobile clinical assistant (MCA)', promises to allow clinicians to "access patient records at the bedside, write notes and order essential tests in real-time". It also has, amongst other things, a camera for taking pictures of injuries. It's also expected to "cut mistakes made when administering drugs by up to 70%". Sadly, it's also "prone to frequent crashes"; rumours that Microsoft wrote the software have been vehemently denied. (Note: I made that last part up)

Not quite the tricorder, but merge it with the iPhone in some way and build in some kind of scanner, and we're halfway there! Also, rumour has it that because of the frequent green screens of death it turns users into crotchety people who mutter things to themselves... like 'that green blooded Vulcan'. Pointy ears sold separately.

The New York Times has a story about why people turn into uncivilized animals when engaging in online written communication. Huh? I thought this mystery had already been solved - isn't it because people are assholes and the anonymity of the web allows them to reveal their true nature? Apparently not. It's actually got to do with a "design flaw inherent in the interface between the brain’s social circuitry and the online world". A design flaw? Scientists that believe in intelligent design are not to be trusted! This is all bunk! The article goes on to state "Without the raised eyebrow that signals irony, say, or the tone of voice that signals delight, the orbitofrontal cortex has little to go on. Lacking real-time cues, we can easily misread the printed words in an e-mail message, taking them the wrong way. And if we are typing while agitated, the absence of information on how the other person is responding makes the prefrontal circuitry for discretion more likely to fail. Our emotional impulses disinhibited, we type some infelicitous message and hit “send” before a more sober second thought leads us to hit “discard.” We flame."

So there we go. The next time I get into an online argument, I'm going to blame it on my orbitofrontal cortex. That excuse is golden - God I hope my orbitofrontal cortex is still intact! Orbitofrontal cortex orbitofrontal cortex orbitofrontal cortex!