There was a story in the New Yorker recently by Atul Gawande, a physician who has been studying the value of using checklists for critical procedures in ICUs. He's discovered that the simple act of requiring doctors to follow checklists, with nurses making sure each step is taken, has resulted in dramatic decreases in the ICU death rate.
I'm going to make sure that any hospital I check into uses checklists.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
California Tempest
It's the season of the California Tempest. What you expect to be a "rainstorm" turns into something mythic and awe-inspiring.
I planned to go to visit JC in Davis yesterday. Not a hard, although a somewhat lengthy drive, mostly freeway. Despite the rain, I thought it would be somewhat silly not to go. The redwood trees in the yard were whipping around, thrashed by the wind. I packed up my backpack, contemplated the first aid kit and decided my computer was more important and headed to the car. I was really glad I didn't have to go outside, but could climb into the car in the relative calm of the garage. I pulled out, windshield wipers on intermittent and started off.
As I headed down the hill to the freeway, windshield wipers set to constant, there were streams racing alongside the road, running across the road, occasionally covering the road. Tree debris was everywhere -- leaves, pine needles, small branches. But, I figured, once on the freeway it will be fine.
I pulled out onto 24E and joined the few cars that were out, windshield wipers set to high. I began to wonder if my 90 minute trip was going to be more like 2 hours. About 2 miles down the road I drove through a small lake, behind an SVU that threw enough water up on to the windshield that it took an eternity -- 15 seconds?-- to clear and I started to think, maybe 3 hours. Another mile down the road and the traffic up ahead was stopped. The road was closed, and gratefully I turned around and went home.
I planned to go to visit JC in Davis yesterday. Not a hard, although a somewhat lengthy drive, mostly freeway. Despite the rain, I thought it would be somewhat silly not to go. The redwood trees in the yard were whipping around, thrashed by the wind. I packed up my backpack, contemplated the first aid kit and decided my computer was more important and headed to the car. I was really glad I didn't have to go outside, but could climb into the car in the relative calm of the garage. I pulled out, windshield wipers on intermittent and started off.
As I headed down the hill to the freeway, windshield wipers set to constant, there were streams racing alongside the road, running across the road, occasionally covering the road. Tree debris was everywhere -- leaves, pine needles, small branches. But, I figured, once on the freeway it will be fine.
I pulled out onto 24E and joined the few cars that were out, windshield wipers set to high. I began to wonder if my 90 minute trip was going to be more like 2 hours. About 2 miles down the road I drove through a small lake, behind an SVU that threw enough water up on to the windshield that it took an eternity -- 15 seconds?-- to clear and I started to think, maybe 3 hours. Another mile down the road and the traffic up ahead was stopped. The road was closed, and gratefully I turned around and went home.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
On Trigger and Seeds
I was catching up on Maureen Dowd's column today, and found this thought from Henry Van Dyke about Christmas. I think I will add "sow a few seeds of happiness" to my list for 2008.
“Are you willing ... to own, that probably the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life; to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds of happiness ... to make a grave for your ugly thoughts and a garden for your kindly feelings ...? Then you can keep Christmas.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
