The best possible outcome

A month or so ago, I applied for an open Assistant Dean position at my college. I had mixed feelings, as it is something I would like to do down the line, but not now. I've had a productive and helpful sabbatical so far and have about two or three years worth of research projects planned. (It's amazing how having time to think and reflect helps one think clearly.)

I decided to apply anyway. Two reasons: (a) the opening is now not later and (b) there are several other administrative things that will be coming up shortly, so I thought it advisable to apply for the assistant dean to get on the radar.

To: twice@slac.edu
From: dean@slac.edu
Date: April 27, 2007
Re: Assistant Dean Position
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[Insert stuff here about candidate chosen (not me) and why. Fabulous choice btw.]
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I was very, very impressed with your interview and think that it would be Small College's loss if you did not continue to be involved in administrative work at the College. I would like to talk to you about this more. Would you be willing to give [administrative assistant] a call and set up a time to meet?

I could be wrong, but I think this means I am on the radar.

Digestion and Dirty Words

A few things happened in the space of 20 minutes this evening:

-Dr. H stubs toe, swears-

Curie: "Damn it, Damn it, Damn it"

Curie: "Damn it" (sing-song) "Damn it!" (more sing-song)

-other stuff happens-

-I wonder out loud whether toddlers recognize the connection between food and poop-

Curie: "Food and poop together!"

Curie: "Food and poop together!"

Dalton: "Food and poop....together!"

- Dr. H remarks that he has to start being more careful about what he says --

Curie: "Fuck! Fuuuuuck! FUUUUCK!"

Two Remarks

• From Bob Park's What's New from April 20th:
  

  
  Students who participated in sexual abstinence programs were just as likely to have sex as those who did not, according to a study ordered by Congress. Nor did they have fewer sex partners, or wait longer to become sexually active. The report, released late last Friday, comes just after the abrupt resignation of Dr. Eric Keroack, an anti-birth control zealot, appointed by Bush just four months ago to head the Office of Population Affairs of the Department of Health and Human Services. A non-board-certified gynecologist/obstetrician who operates six Christian anti- abortion centers in Massachusetts, Keroack had been notified of a state investigation into his private practice.

  
  Okay, I'm glad Keroack resigned, but how did I miss this guy was appointed in the first place?
  
  
  
• See Abortion Clinic Days for a reaction to the recent supreme court decision. For a personal account, see Cicily's post at And I Wasted All That Birth Control. Don't try reading the last without tissues nearby.
  

Special note to my husband's relatives

In the future, please do not put any of my clothes in the dryer without asking me. Even if my husband says it is okay. Thank you.

That Would be Apes...

We just ate at a local organic food place with "Monkey" in the name. They say the name is based on a study at the Copenhagan Zoo, indicating chimpanzees prefer organic bananas. (I found a note about this here.)

I do not have the heart to tell them chimps are apes.

Reflections on Warning Signs

The tragedy at Virginia Tech has led to some introspection around the blogosphere about warning signs of mental illness in academia. These posts by FemaleScienceProfessor struck me in particular.

We all too often ignore warning signs and threats. I have fortunately never had death threats made against me. But, I have been close to three academic cases involving mental illness. I'd like to discuss two here, because I thing action versus inaction made the difference. One case was that a graduate student in the same research group as me. He seemed to be suffering from some sort of paranoia. For example, he believed people were breaking into his apartment and leaving notes to him in his own handwriting. A second case was a graduate student in my department at my previous institution. She escalated situations whenever possible, left half hour long harassing phone messages for faculty and staff and used reframing and falsehoods to then portray everything as some sort of organized plot to discriminate against her. She was clearly unstable, but had periods of seeming lucidity that would lull everyone into a sense of security.

The thing both of these situations had in common was that people who were in positions of authority to really do something about the situation were reluctant to do so. In each case, there was pressure on the rest of us to pretend like it wasn't happening, or to simply manage the situation. No one wanted to do anything considered "drastic".

In the first case, the fellow graduate student's paranoia increased dramatically and things went downhill fast while our PI was out of town. This prompted several of us in the group to contact the department chair. I indicated I was afraid he was going to do something to hurt himself. One postdoc indicated he was afraid the student would become violent to others. Somehow or another, emergency counseling was arranged. By the time our advisor got back, he and everyone else wanted to consider the matter dealt with. However, it was soon clear that therapy was not ongoing, and we basically demanded our advisor take some action, as the one who had the most sway. He stepped up, and soon the student was in therapy and getting the chemical help he needed.

In the second case, the department went out of its way to smooth out the situation. The student was allowed to shift research groups several times, the department chair drove her to a conference, the department bought specialized equipment for her, and assented to demands for particular office space. Once I was pressured to take her into my group and I refused (this is after three previous situations had degenerated into harassing phone calls). The departmental staff members (all female) were afraid she was going to come to campus armed. Most of the male faculty thought these concerns were overstated and brushed these concerns aside. My feeling was that the department should, if nothing else, support its staff.

Eventually, this case was resolved, at least for the college. A male faculty member who was the graduate chair shouldered much of the burden of dealing with her. He also felt the concerns of the staff were legitimate. He wrote officially to the provost and the union, saying he was being forced to work in an unreasonable stressful environment and asked: "what can you do to help me?" This made things official, leading to an investigation. A number of people (chairs, deans, the associate provost) were mad he had started an official inquiry (and told him so). There is much more to this story, regarding the mental illness and legal issues, but from the institutional perspective, things became quite simple. By refusing to participate in the official process, she was barred from registering. She left our area and last we heard, she was at another institution doing the same thing.

Action (though perhaps late in both cases) ended up resolving both of these cases. However, I think suicide and/or violence against others were possible outcomes if actions were not taken. Often, there is reluctance to go through official channels and do anything drastic, in the mistaken belief that this will complicate matters. In both of these cases, it made things complicated only briefly, and ultimately improved things greatly.

Ignore this if you are not a Battlestar Galactica fan (the new series, of course).

Should I be worried that my daughter is drawing the Eye of Jupiter?

Step It Up

So, today was a National Day of Climate Action promoting cutting carbon emissions 80% by 2050. So, in celebration, here are a few climate-related items.

• This radio address by Bill McKibbon founder of Step it Up 2007 was quite interesting. (Sorry, the radio address download is not free, but here is a link to a recent Talk of the Nation with McKibbon as a guest.)
  
  
• I recently attended a talk given by the CEO of a major oil company (rhymes with swell). As public talks go, it was a very good one. By, by gosh, does that man love carbon-based fuels! He is either (a) very good at his job as a public representative or (b) a true believer or (c) both. His message: there are two problems keeping us from energy security. First, public policy doesn't allow the development of some energy resources. Second, public policy doesn't encourage and support the development of other resources. Oh, yeah, and we have plenty of fuel, if only we could develop it. Now, I do not disagree with a number of things he said. For example, I also believe it will take time to move away from carbon. Yes, I think ethanol from corn is problematic. My main issue with the talk was that he spoke nothing of conservation, and nothing about changing the way we do things. He talked of energy savings through improving efficiency and increasing energy supply to "maintain our lifestyle".
  
  
• Here's a little light reading - the IPCC 2007 Summary for Policy Makers. Too scary for bedtime.
  
  
• Check out the site RealClimate for ongoing and technical information about climate change.
  
  

Apparently it really isn't just the media...

Guess what? Despite my previous post, it turns out I am suddenly quite interested in the Anna Nicole story. Why?

In working through my inbox, I came across this story in Mary Shomon's weekly thyroid disease newsletter.

It seems that Anna Nicole Smith had Hashimoto's thyroiditis, a condition that causes hypothyroidism. Let me just say, hypothyroidism sucks. In any case, her condition may have been untreated. Depression & weight gain are just two of the symptoms, some others can be found here. I have to wonder, might Anna Nicole have been able to avoid all the other pharmaceuticals if her thyroid disease were treated?

Year ago, I moved and had to switch doctors in the middle of being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. It just so happens that doctors are not excited about you coming in to their office and saying "I have this" even when you assure them the "this" was suggested by another doctor.

My new doctor suggested antidepressants instead of thyroid hormone replacement therapy. I considered saying "Yes, I'd love to treat the just one of my many symptoms instead of the underlying condition" but I was afraid the sarcasm would be missed. Instead, I opted for the less ambiguous "Given that I know thyroid hormone is involved in the pathway for the production of serotonin in the brain, I will not even consider antidepressants until hypothyroidism is ruled out. Check my antibodies. Bitch."

Okay, I didn't actually say "bitch" - but I did get the antibody test leading to a diagnosis of Hashimoto's.

Anyway, if someday you are sleeping 9 or 10 hours a day, have dry skin and dry eyes, gain weight, lose hair and can't think as quickly as you could before: please get your thyroid checked.

A Typical Beginning

My father is coming to visit this weekend. I have not seen him in about six years. The last time was when he came to my wedding. He has never met the children, so this will be exciting for all.

He set up this visit months ago, which was a nice surprise. He is driving in from his daughter's house^* just one state away from sabbatical state. Two weeks ago, he called to set up a time to arrive. "Let me know when you are planning to be home from work - I'll arrive then. I won't cut into your work day." I asked him just to let me know, but he insisted - just tell him when I'd be home. Okay. That means sixish, after picking up the kids at spectacular sabbatical day care. Again, I offered to come home earlier, perhaps we could at least move it to five. "No, no," he assured me "I'll be there at six."

Tonight I called him to find out when he was coming, having professed to Dr. H I was sure he would come earlier. Sure enough: "I'll be there around 3."

Now, if he had arrived at three and called me (if he was able to reach me) I would have to pack up, walk or bus to my car (20 min, either way - lots of construction), then drive to daycare (farther away than is ideal - 20 min), pick up kids + their stuff and get briefed on their day (15 min, with carseat buckling, etc.), drive back home (25 min). Add time for traffic and we are pushing 1.5 hours. That's 1.5 hours he would be sitting outside my house with nothing to do, waiting for me to arrive.

Why is this familiar? Flashback to wedding: Coed bachelor/bachelorette party on Thursday (parents not invited), then running around, getting tuxes and rehearsal dinner on Friday. I told my Dad to arrive Thursday evening or early Friday, because we would be busy during the day and evening on Thursday. When does he show up? 10 a.m. Thursday.

I'm guessing he'll be here tomorrow at 2.


^* Long story, more on this later.

And here I thought it was just the media....

Overhead walking across Sabbatical University campus Tuesday evening:

A female student nearly screams into her cell phone, "You mean they found out the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby and you didn't tell me??!"

Car Ride

In an attempt at total geekdom, I'm going to use Dalton and Curie as the names of my children in the blog. Here's what Dr. H and I listened to on the car ride back from his father's:

Curie: Itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout.

Dalton: No itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout!

Curie: Down came the rain and ....

Dalton: No down came the rain!

Curie: ...washed the spider out!

Dalton: No! No washed the spider out!

Curie: Out came the sun...

Dalton: No out came the sun!

Curie: ...and dried up all the rain.

Dalton: No out came the sun and NO dried up all the rain!

Curie: And itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again!

Dalton: No up the spout again!

A Semester to Focus

My sabbatical is half over. It seems like now is a good time to reflect on my progress.

Dr. H. is also on sabbatical, and we decided to get away. This has been good, but time-consuming due to logistical challenges. There is the new day care for the kids, the economics of maintaining two households and the like. We are spending our sabbaticals at the well-funded R1 university where I did my Ph.D. This means excellent library access and frequent top-notch seminars.

So here is what is good:

• I'm learning a new technique "everybody" does. Why is it the cool girl at the party? It appears to be very good for certain applications, and it allows us to do things we could not do before. Still, I can't help thinking some of the technique's popularity is simply because it is "in". Whatever the reason, because everyone does it now, I must also do it to be able to continue to publish in my field. I'm making some progress on this.
  
  
• I'm working on a paper for a project that has been gathering dust for years. Hopefully, I will be able to submit it in a few weeks.
  
  
• I may have set up a collaboration that could be very lucrative. This would have never happened had I not been here.
  
  
• The kids love their new daycare. It is a unique place and it is like they are on sabbatical too.
  
  
• Did I mention the library access?
  

What's bad:

• The "overhead" of being away cuts into our research time. It is likely this is compensated for by the removal from departmental/institutional time sinks at our home institutions, however.
  
  
• Dr. H feels more isolated here than I do. I am more at home in my department and am in a formal research group. He is working on a writing project, a much more solitary endeavor.
  
  
• Not everyone realizes we are on sabbatical to work. Relatives, for example, wonder why we can not just visit any time we want - or why they can't just visit us whenever they want. I've heard the second problem is much worse if you go on sabbatical somewhere like Hawaii.
  
  
• Did I mention that maintaining two households is expensive?
  
  

Despite the expense and overhead of being away, I would do it again. If we had stayed local I would not have such great access to journals and people, and I'd probably be spending half my time dealing with departmental stuff. It sucks you in. Now I just have to figure out a way to fend off time sinks and chatty colleagues when I return. ...assuming the e-mail in my previous post comes to naught.

Not Sure What I Was Thinking

Subject: Assistant Dean Position
From: twice@slac.edu
Date: Fri, March 30, 2007 11:28 am
To: dean@slac.edu

Dear Dr. [Dean],

I am writing to express my interest in applying for the position of Assistant Dean of the Faculty.
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See related previous post

On the Plane

We are boarding. A prim late 40ish flight attendant looks suspiciously at the two men in front of me. She nods to them and tries to decide whether or not to smile.

Two men get on the plane in front of me. Aging rockers I would have been totally into in 1986, when we where all younger. One has a black surfing shirt, long straight blond hair and more wrinkles than me. I detect a few strands of gray, many split ends. The other has trimmed long blond hair, a black hat and bandanna around his head. They are friendly and polite, even to the stoic flight attendant. Neither has changed the way they've worn their hair since 1988. Nor have I.

A family. Mother and father with a recently born and a toddler. Occasional screaming comes from a few rows back. This is blissfully peaceful to me, because I am travelling alone and thus the screams convey only one thing. It is not my children who are screaming on this flight.