Category Archives: Beginnings and Endings

The Vaccination-Autism Connection Debate – Part 2

Earlier I discussed my research into the alleged connections between childhood vaccinations and autism. But recently the esteemed medical journal, the Lancet, officially retracted a 1998 article that made the first and only scientific suggestion of such a connection.

Forbes magazine is reporting:

The Lancet‘s retraction came less than a week after the U.K.’s General Medical Council, the regulator of medical practice, ruled that in conducting the study Wakefield had acted “dishonestly and irresponsibly” by failing to disclose financial conflicts of interest and that he had shown “callous disregard” for his patients by subjecting them to unnecessary invasive procedures.

Henry I. Miller at Forbes is harsh in his criticism of the Lancet for publishing the article in the first place and for taking over ten years to retract it – in spite of numerous obvious faults with the original study (12 test subjects does not a reliable conclusion make). I can’t help but agree. The Wall Street Journal points out that the panic over vaccinations has unmistakably resulted in higher infection rates and even some deaths.

The irony here is that the general public have relied on a main-stream medical journal to draw conclusions that are contrary to main-stream medical science. The result has been increased misery and death.

But perhaps the experience will lead to a more appropriate level of cynicism among the public and the media. New claims that run against common sense and accumulated science should be greeted with overt scepticism. After all, the scientific method demands that conclusions be reproducible.

And yet, I shouldn’t be hopeful here. Every day hundreds of television stations report on new scientific studies, usually without any critical eye or review procedure. Frankly, what passes for science and medical journalism is atrocious, in some cases even unethical.

And thus the disaster at the Lancet. A medical or scientific journal really has nothing except its reputation. These journals are not immune to the vagaries of politics.

New Year & New Job

My job as a Communications Coordinator at the University of Saskatchewan officially comes to an end in two weeks. But my last day at work will be this Wednesday.

Wow! A new baby, a new job. Things are certainly getting a big shakeup this year.

I’m going to miss lots of things about working at the U of S – mostly the great colleagues I met in my department. They’re a great gang.

But I’m also excited about the move to a new job in a new company.

The company is a Saskatoon-based corporate communications and marketing firm called Creative Fire. And everyone I tell about the move says something positive about this company. They have a great reputation.

I hadn’t planned on making this move – it was certainly not something I’d decided to squeeze in between my December schedule of house renovations and Christmas shopping. But the opportunity came along thanks to a good friend’s introduction.

Meeting with the folks at Creative Fire was a blast. The office exudes energy and verve. I’m pretty pumped about getting started.

No, this change wasn’t in J’s and mine grand plan, but as the old line goes:

The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft agley
.

About a Boy

So if you haven’t figured this out from the blog post title, we are expecting a boy!

J at the ultrasound

J at the ultrasound

The latest in 3D Ultrasonic Technology confirms the presence of very tiny testicles. That’s the perfect setup for a punchline about genetics and my masculinity. So let’s just move past it shall we?

A boy – but don’t tell Janelle’s father. Apparently he doesn’t want to know until it he(!) is born. I have know idea how we’ll be able to keep this information away from him. But I suppose we’ll try.

The 3D Ultrasound was pretty fun, actually. The room is very comfortable, with big leather chairs and such. Not clinical at all. Ultrasounds are not new, but it still seems like a mind-blowing technology: “Let’s take a look at the living thing in your stomach.” Wow! There it is – let’s count the toes!

Add into this that we had four of our family members watching this experience live on the Internet. Plus I was snapping pics (like this one of J) on her iPhone, texting my sister, and posting to twitter at the same time. Oh, and drinking a Tim’s coffee.

We live in very luxurious times. How can you raise kids to appreciate this luxury and not have them take it for granted?

So, yes, a boy!

We think.

The technician was very positive and spent a great degree of time checking various angles in order to satisfy herself. So I’m confident.

And yet: this wouldn’t be the first time that the ultrasound was wrong (far from it). And that’s okay. J loves surprises. And I’m perfectly happy for either a boy or a girl.

But it’ll very likely be a boy.

So now we are refining and focusing the list of possible names (I’ll be discussing the issues with the Last Name in a later post). J is trying “Henry” on for size.

And to me it all seems that much more real. The resolution on the future seems higher and much more viewable. And with the increase in resolution so too an increase in the enormity of the responsibility.

Oh geeze.

I think J is feeling something similar. Now she’s able to think about the idea of a son. She’s going to have a mother-son relationship. I’m going to have a father-son relationship. That is a little unnerving.

I’m suddenly reminded of when I was learning how to swim: hanging on to the side of the pool and putting my foot into the water – deeper and deeper – and nothing beyond.

I guess it’s sink or swim time buddy.

Compelling Humility

And when our baby stirs and struggles to be born it compels humility: what we began is now its own.
- Margaret Mead

You’ll be pleased to know that since my last posting, I have taken the fitness declaration to heart. Literally, I guess, since my heart has been working overtime. My muscles too didn’t realize what they were in for (Indeed, I’ve received several unfair labour petitions from the muscles’ shop steward. I’ve responded by increasing the tempo even further – take buttercup!). But while I may have a few sore muscles, I do feel better. Better rested. More energy. It is really amazing how quickly you can feel the impact of basic physical exercise.

The baby’s room is coming along nicely. The walls have been painted (mostly) and the new floors come next week. The house is a crazy mess right now – which is freaking the dog out – but hopefully it’ll be better by Christmastime.

Lisa Mitchell – Neopolitan Dreams

Two Hundred and Fifty-Six Days

Elena Desserich was six-years old when she died from cancer.

Such a short life might fit into the palm of your hand: warm and weighted like a small animal, or, like a sea-shell examined at the edge of the ocean, glistening and clean in the bright sunlight. In its compactness, such a life is almost comprehensible. Almost.

Her parents were told that she had 135 days to live. They endeavored to survive the ordeal by recording it, day-by-day, into a journal ostensibly intended for future reading by Elena’s younger sister Grace. The Desserich’s extended family wanted/needed to know about Elena, about these final days, so the daily passages were upload to a website. Thousands of people drew inspiration from these posts. And way-led-onto-way until yesterday’s re-publishing of Notes Left Behind:

“In Notes Left Behind, Elena’s parents struggle to resolve their contradictory impulses to both fight Elena’s cancer at all costs, and to realize the inevitable outcome that awaits their daughter. Through it all, they rediscover what it means to be a family and what it means to live. The journal is candid and sincere in its treatment of deeply personal and tragic events and is a reminder to parents everywhere to appreciate and savor every precious moment they have with their own children.” – notesleftbehind.com

At some point Elena’s cancer prevented her from being able to speak. She wrote notes about what she wanted to say. She wrote notes and left them for her little sister to find. After Elena was gone, her parents discovered that Elena had left notes for them too, hidden between books and cds, in backpacks and briefcases.

This book is about the words the Desserich’s left behind and the notes Elena herself left behind.

Words sent out into the world like little paper boats bobbing along in rain-filled gutters.

History is full of these types of words, floating down through time. I come across them all the time as a historian. They are translated across language and across media. From Latin into English. From Stone into Binary. There are mistranslations too – this always happens. And there are things left unsaid, emptiness surrounds the symbols carved into stone.

What is unknowable about death and what is inexpressible about life haunts all of these words – especially the words: “I love you.”

In the end, Elena out-lived her prognosis by a hundred and twenty-one days. She died in August 2007.

Today, Notes Left Behind has gone viral. There are persistent problems with the webpage – due to high traffic. Like The Last Lecture, a lot of people will read this book. They will warm their hands in the glow if its pages.

Also this day: Lt. Boyes – We will pass words of you down through the years.