There are things that you want to say, but afraid to simply because you are not sure how it would come across. So you hold back; biting your tongue, putting on a poker face, trying not to think about it, hoping it will go away. But it's still there, and the more you suppress it, the more it threatens to burst out. What do you do? Part of you just want to spill it all out, lay it there on the table, get it done and over with. A larger part of you is terribly afraid you will blurt it out at the wrong time, wrong place and ruin everything.
There are no guidelines, or whatever guidelines there were, you missed it because when they were teaching it in school, you were probably out sick. All the awkwardness that you were supposed to get out of the system a long time ago, well, you never did, it's still there, all of it. You could be fast approaching 30, established in something; nonetheless when "it"comes up, you are relegated to being that tongue tied, self-aware, internal monolog spewing, antsy kid that you were throughout middle school to college.
As dashing, or charming or confident as you may come across, or believe yourself to be, the reality is you are still that insecure teenager when it comes to such matters. A kid hoping fate will bat its eyes at you and say today is your lucky day. But there are no such signs... or is there? Some say you will know it when the time is right... but what if you are prone to false alarms, and false starts? What if you have grown so accustomed to ignoring or over-reacting, so much so that you missed the real thing when it comes by... then you are left there standing alone in a crowded room feeling lonely, not sure what to do, holding back, hoping the "next time" it will be more clearer and you will act more readily upon it.
Maybe you will grow out of it, get over it, settle for something else... or maybe not, who knows? But it would be a sad commentary wouldn't it, to feel so resigned. And so, we are back to square one, there are things you wanted to say, but you are not sure how it will come across...
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Praying in stolen moments
For the better part of the past 19 months, I functioned without a radio in my car. Well, let me back up a little, I do have a radio but it went dead after I had a power outage, and I couldn’t reactivate the radio’s connection without the proper password (granted, even if I did, the buttons weren’t working…). At first I was upset. I missed the preset stations, I missed having the ability to choose different music to fill out the void that is my 20 minutes commute (I know, I know… only 20 minutes each way). I missed the power (did I mention to you that I am a control freak?) to change the stations and alter volume level with the buttons on my steering wheel (oh yeah, I am so in love with that particular feature of my car… opposable thumbs baby, it’s awesome). I have grown so accustomed to having a radio that the concept of not having one made me feel disconnected from the world. You see, the only time I get the news, listen to the latest songs, or pay attention to social commentary was through the radio on my drive to work. NPR, morning talk shows were my daily source of talking points as I venture to interact with the people around me; the springboard to my foray into the actual world if you will. Without it, I have no idea what’s cool. I am reduced to that awkward individual who is utterly clueless as to who is the latest American Idol, who got voted off some reality TV show, what character of Grey’s Anatomy died off in the season finale, who got lost in LOST.
It was an isolating experience; the silence in the car as I sat through traffic lights was almost unbearable. I became bored, and I don’t do well in monotony because I started doing stupid things. I would sing as loud as I could on long rides so that I won’t fall asleep. I would bob my head up and down to non-existence music whenever a hot chick, or a cop, drives near me so as to come across suave (hey, no one said I actually knew what being smooth looked like). What is more, I find myself mumbling to myself. Yep, one of the tell-tale signs of becoming crazy is when you start talking to nobody- and there I was, talking to nobody. Gradually, however, I did began to direct my monologues to another source… G-d. It was an interesting transition. I don’t quite know how it happened, one minute I was driving nonchalantly down the highway, the next I found myself reciting the Lord’s prayer. Just like that, I found a new routine, I pray during my commute. It was weird at first, because when I was first taught to pray as a child, I was taught to do so reverently, in a sacred space, in a time set aside especially for G-d. For me, that meant in front of an altar, beside the bed, or at the table. Not driving 70 mph down a stretch of highway, doing shoulder checks, merging left and right (although, looking at it now, there isn’t a more appropriate time and place for it). It almost felt sacrilege at first, as if I am simultaneously g-chatting to a friend and talking to my parents on the phone while sitting on the commode (not that I really do that, but I know people who do…).
How am I supposed to devote myself whole-heartedly to G-d in prayer if I am at the same time trying to avoid a collision? Is there a repercussion for flipping someone the bird while praying for forgiveness? It raises certain theological dilemmas, prayer in cars. What happens if I get pulled over, and the cop asks me do I have any idea how fast I was going? Could I then answered “I was so moved by the spirit?” Can I use the HOV lane, after-all I am traveling with G-d the father, G-d the son and G-d the holy spirit? Anyway, these are the kind of things I think about after my commute. But more importantly… I pray during my commute. Someone once said to me that we pray during stolen moments. And this was a stolen moment, the silence granted by the lack of a radio became my sacred space for me to commune with G-d. What I thought at first was a nuisance became a source of my comfort as I sought to start and end my day with G-d, a prayer for a great beginning in the morning, and an evening prayer of thanks for a decent ending. My prayer life, which was almost non-existence after college became vibrant again as I found myself filling the void with prayers and thoughts sent randomly to G-d. I began to make good use of the silence to list out the things that I am thankful for, and the things that bothered me, and I present them equally. Sometimes, G-d would even reply, like when I am feeling particularly unhappy about my current situation, he would show me a car that got pulled over, and that often serves to brighten up my day significantly. Or if I feel vengeful, he would show me ugly looking pedestrians and squirrels so that I may… just kidding.
In all seriousness though, I have no idea how much I took for granted the things that I have. It made me realize that in every little negative experience, there is an opportunity for an even better one. I complained about not having a radio in my car, when in reality I needed the silence to get in touch with my deeper humanity. We have all become so accustomed to having distractions in our lives, every moment filled with activities of some sort that we forget sometime what we really need is to slow down, quiet down, sit down and just be. We drive with radios on full blast at times, but it is probably worth our while just to shut it off and listen to the wind billowing by. We bob our heads up and down, when we really should be gazing from side to side to gain a better sense of our surroundings. Driving is not just about getting from one place to another, but it is about experiencing the scenery as we go by, feeling the freedom that we are behind the wheels. Don’t be distracted, instead, enjoy it, and once in a while, say a little prayer because you may never know if those little prayers could save others from praying seriously on your behalf.
It was an isolating experience; the silence in the car as I sat through traffic lights was almost unbearable. I became bored, and I don’t do well in monotony because I started doing stupid things. I would sing as loud as I could on long rides so that I won’t fall asleep. I would bob my head up and down to non-existence music whenever a hot chick, or a cop, drives near me so as to come across suave (hey, no one said I actually knew what being smooth looked like). What is more, I find myself mumbling to myself. Yep, one of the tell-tale signs of becoming crazy is when you start talking to nobody- and there I was, talking to nobody. Gradually, however, I did began to direct my monologues to another source… G-d. It was an interesting transition. I don’t quite know how it happened, one minute I was driving nonchalantly down the highway, the next I found myself reciting the Lord’s prayer. Just like that, I found a new routine, I pray during my commute. It was weird at first, because when I was first taught to pray as a child, I was taught to do so reverently, in a sacred space, in a time set aside especially for G-d. For me, that meant in front of an altar, beside the bed, or at the table. Not driving 70 mph down a stretch of highway, doing shoulder checks, merging left and right (although, looking at it now, there isn’t a more appropriate time and place for it). It almost felt sacrilege at first, as if I am simultaneously g-chatting to a friend and talking to my parents on the phone while sitting on the commode (not that I really do that, but I know people who do…).
How am I supposed to devote myself whole-heartedly to G-d in prayer if I am at the same time trying to avoid a collision? Is there a repercussion for flipping someone the bird while praying for forgiveness? It raises certain theological dilemmas, prayer in cars. What happens if I get pulled over, and the cop asks me do I have any idea how fast I was going? Could I then answered “I was so moved by the spirit?” Can I use the HOV lane, after-all I am traveling with G-d the father, G-d the son and G-d the holy spirit? Anyway, these are the kind of things I think about after my commute. But more importantly… I pray during my commute. Someone once said to me that we pray during stolen moments. And this was a stolen moment, the silence granted by the lack of a radio became my sacred space for me to commune with G-d. What I thought at first was a nuisance became a source of my comfort as I sought to start and end my day with G-d, a prayer for a great beginning in the morning, and an evening prayer of thanks for a decent ending. My prayer life, which was almost non-existence after college became vibrant again as I found myself filling the void with prayers and thoughts sent randomly to G-d. I began to make good use of the silence to list out the things that I am thankful for, and the things that bothered me, and I present them equally. Sometimes, G-d would even reply, like when I am feeling particularly unhappy about my current situation, he would show me a car that got pulled over, and that often serves to brighten up my day significantly. Or if I feel vengeful, he would show me ugly looking pedestrians and squirrels so that I may… just kidding.
In all seriousness though, I have no idea how much I took for granted the things that I have. It made me realize that in every little negative experience, there is an opportunity for an even better one. I complained about not having a radio in my car, when in reality I needed the silence to get in touch with my deeper humanity. We have all become so accustomed to having distractions in our lives, every moment filled with activities of some sort that we forget sometime what we really need is to slow down, quiet down, sit down and just be. We drive with radios on full blast at times, but it is probably worth our while just to shut it off and listen to the wind billowing by. We bob our heads up and down, when we really should be gazing from side to side to gain a better sense of our surroundings. Driving is not just about getting from one place to another, but it is about experiencing the scenery as we go by, feeling the freedom that we are behind the wheels. Don’t be distracted, instead, enjoy it, and once in a while, say a little prayer because you may never know if those little prayers could save others from praying seriously on your behalf.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
George Bailey Moments
"Have you ever had one of those days where nothing all that monumental happens, but by the end of it you have no idea who you are or what the hell you are doing with your life? Do you ever have one of those days?" ~ Robin from the TV series How I Met Your Mother
In my years of studying psychology as an undergrad, nothing really prepared me for moments like these-when I would find myself stopped so abruptly by seemingly nothing at all, and be confronted with the sensation that I am insignificant. I have come to called these moments my George Bailey moments, more or less because I find myself pondering what differences am I making, and what it would have been like had I not existed at all. Do I matter at all?
Is it, then, a question of ego? The desire to know that one's efforts have not be in vain? That one has indeed made a difference in this transitory world? I know that the world was revolving long before I arrived, and that it will continue to do so long after I am gone. But wouldn't it be nice, even if just for a little bit, especially in these moments, that I would be comforted with the knowledge that I am not sand on stone, or another autumn leaf.
Am I doing something wrong, because if I am working as hard as I perceive I am, why then this feeling of insignificance? I guess in the end human existence is never easy... and to each their own set of problems. we can only hope that we dare to test the limits of our individual strength. So that when the day of judgement arrives, when we judge ourselves, we can say without hesitation that we did the best we could with what we have, and that what little regrets we may have, our accomplishment suffice to overcome it. That, regardless of how insignificant it may feel at the time, that in the grand scheme of things, we played one of three roles: the originator, the facilitator, and the benefactor of some action... and that it was necessary.
In my years of studying psychology as an undergrad, nothing really prepared me for moments like these-when I would find myself stopped so abruptly by seemingly nothing at all, and be confronted with the sensation that I am insignificant. I have come to called these moments my George Bailey moments, more or less because I find myself pondering what differences am I making, and what it would have been like had I not existed at all. Do I matter at all?
Is it, then, a question of ego? The desire to know that one's efforts have not be in vain? That one has indeed made a difference in this transitory world? I know that the world was revolving long before I arrived, and that it will continue to do so long after I am gone. But wouldn't it be nice, even if just for a little bit, especially in these moments, that I would be comforted with the knowledge that I am not sand on stone, or another autumn leaf.
Am I doing something wrong, because if I am working as hard as I perceive I am, why then this feeling of insignificance? I guess in the end human existence is never easy... and to each their own set of problems. we can only hope that we dare to test the limits of our individual strength. So that when the day of judgement arrives, when we judge ourselves, we can say without hesitation that we did the best we could with what we have, and that what little regrets we may have, our accomplishment suffice to overcome it. That, regardless of how insignificant it may feel at the time, that in the grand scheme of things, we played one of three roles: the originator, the facilitator, and the benefactor of some action... and that it was necessary.
Monday, May 4, 2009
In the time of nick
If you have ever shaved using a razor blade, be it your face or your legs, chances are at one point or another you may have accidentally nicked yourself. Without going too much into the gory details and grossing people out, it is very likely that there were a lot of blood, and your first instinct may have been to panic slightly. After all, in this biblically oriented society, there is this underlying notion that fluids should remain in the body, and that the expulsion of any fluids is either a cause for alarm, and/or considered unclean.
Needless to say, for those of you have experienced such nicks, you would have probably come to realize that as bad as it may look, a nick is a nick is a nick. A mere abrasion of the epidermal layer resulting in the rupture of skin capillaries at a microscopic level, which in the grand scheme of things is no big deal. That is unless you are on blood thinners, lacking in calcium pectate and/or are an anemic... if that is the case, then seek medical assistance immediately. If not, then... after applying pressure, ice, vaseline and/ or alcohol to the region, you will find that life moves on.
Why am I bringing all this up? Because it has occurred to me that much of the drama in our daily lives is very much like these little nicks we gave ourselves from time to time. First, one must understand that these nicks have a higher probability of happening if your blade is dulled, and your reflexes slow. Similarly, when drama occurs, it is very likely because we are caught unprepared. So, be prepared, sharpen your tools, hone in your skills, and quicken your wit.
Also, in that singular moment when a small inconvenience occur we find our world suddenly narrowed to just that one thing. We become enraptured by the theatrics, so much so that what is in actuality a mere trickle becomes a gushing volcano of molten larva threatening to inundate all else. Due to our lack of preparation or vigilance, our mind is incapable of coming up with a better response other than "Oh my god, I am bleeding, I am bleeding, I am bleeding". You are frozen there, at once fascinated by the fountain of blood that is bursting forth from so small a wound, your entire being transfixed by an exaggerated internal commentary aimed to evoke an even greater emotional response, usually in the form of distress under duress.
There, you are, a dolt- a hopeless, hapless, shivering, whimpering pathetic dolt. And for what?! A nick. The remedies to fixing a nick is simple, as mentioned before... cleanse it with alcohol, apply pressure, ice it, put on some vaseline, and simply let time mend it. Same with those little dramas in life. You can fix it by sterilizing the situation, riding the situation of all unnecessary emotional quotient. Put some effort into it, do what you can, then live it on the back burner for time to resolve it. It's simple, it's easy. Drama is over, back to life.
Needless to say, for those of you have experienced such nicks, you would have probably come to realize that as bad as it may look, a nick is a nick is a nick. A mere abrasion of the epidermal layer resulting in the rupture of skin capillaries at a microscopic level, which in the grand scheme of things is no big deal. That is unless you are on blood thinners, lacking in calcium pectate and/or are an anemic... if that is the case, then seek medical assistance immediately. If not, then... after applying pressure, ice, vaseline and/ or alcohol to the region, you will find that life moves on.
Why am I bringing all this up? Because it has occurred to me that much of the drama in our daily lives is very much like these little nicks we gave ourselves from time to time. First, one must understand that these nicks have a higher probability of happening if your blade is dulled, and your reflexes slow. Similarly, when drama occurs, it is very likely because we are caught unprepared. So, be prepared, sharpen your tools, hone in your skills, and quicken your wit.
Also, in that singular moment when a small inconvenience occur we find our world suddenly narrowed to just that one thing. We become enraptured by the theatrics, so much so that what is in actuality a mere trickle becomes a gushing volcano of molten larva threatening to inundate all else. Due to our lack of preparation or vigilance, our mind is incapable of coming up with a better response other than "Oh my god, I am bleeding, I am bleeding, I am bleeding". You are frozen there, at once fascinated by the fountain of blood that is bursting forth from so small a wound, your entire being transfixed by an exaggerated internal commentary aimed to evoke an even greater emotional response, usually in the form of distress under duress.
There, you are, a dolt- a hopeless, hapless, shivering, whimpering pathetic dolt. And for what?! A nick. The remedies to fixing a nick is simple, as mentioned before... cleanse it with alcohol, apply pressure, ice it, put on some vaseline, and simply let time mend it. Same with those little dramas in life. You can fix it by sterilizing the situation, riding the situation of all unnecessary emotional quotient. Put some effort into it, do what you can, then live it on the back burner for time to resolve it. It's simple, it's easy. Drama is over, back to life.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Just a thought
Dear Teenage Girl with A Lot of Make-up,
Did anyone ever tell you that you are beautiful? I have a feeling that you probably don't get complimented very often, which would explain the layer of mascara that you have on. The eyeliner that threatens to overflow, and the lipsticks which makes you look like you cater especially to clowns. See, you have all the makings to be a stunningly beautiful woman someday, I can see it; you possess the kind of beauty that make-up is not required to enhance. Yet, there you are stunting your growth potential by covering your face with product so that your beauty, and your self perception (of it) becomes almost dependent on it.
That's not how it works. You don't grow beautiful legs by leaning on couches. No, you let them grow at their own pace. Your beauty is there, waiting for you to grow into it. It awaits for you to claim it as your own. There is no need to "speed" things up by applying layers to it before its time... that actually slow things down, if not suffocating it. Your beauty is like a flower waiting to blossom in the sun; don't cover it, don't hide it, don't pluck at it. It will bloom when the time is right; in the meantime, do what you must to nurture and nourish it, but don't over do it, otherwise the whole world can see it was forced.
No, be patient, and just know that you are already beautiful. Yes, there will be those whose beauty is like a wild fire, raw and overwhelming. That's just it, it is a flash of lightening, and then it is gone. Yet, the reality is most beauty is like a pork tenderloin slowly roasting in an open pit. No amount of seasoning can add to the quality of deliciousness that comes from heat applied over time. It is like a cake, slowly baked to rise; or a bottle of fine wine aged over time. Done right, it leaves an everlasting pleasant after taste.
Similarly, own the fact that you don't need tons of make-up to feel better about who you are, or to hide your "perceived" iniquities. Face the world as you, without enhancement, and you will grow to be more beautiful than you dare to dream. Remember, beauty unaware, a genuine smile, kind eyes, and dimples do more wonders than eyeliners and mascara combined.
Did anyone ever tell you that you are beautiful? I have a feeling that you probably don't get complimented very often, which would explain the layer of mascara that you have on. The eyeliner that threatens to overflow, and the lipsticks which makes you look like you cater especially to clowns. See, you have all the makings to be a stunningly beautiful woman someday, I can see it; you possess the kind of beauty that make-up is not required to enhance. Yet, there you are stunting your growth potential by covering your face with product so that your beauty, and your self perception (of it) becomes almost dependent on it.
That's not how it works. You don't grow beautiful legs by leaning on couches. No, you let them grow at their own pace. Your beauty is there, waiting for you to grow into it. It awaits for you to claim it as your own. There is no need to "speed" things up by applying layers to it before its time... that actually slow things down, if not suffocating it. Your beauty is like a flower waiting to blossom in the sun; don't cover it, don't hide it, don't pluck at it. It will bloom when the time is right; in the meantime, do what you must to nurture and nourish it, but don't over do it, otherwise the whole world can see it was forced.
No, be patient, and just know that you are already beautiful. Yes, there will be those whose beauty is like a wild fire, raw and overwhelming. That's just it, it is a flash of lightening, and then it is gone. Yet, the reality is most beauty is like a pork tenderloin slowly roasting in an open pit. No amount of seasoning can add to the quality of deliciousness that comes from heat applied over time. It is like a cake, slowly baked to rise; or a bottle of fine wine aged over time. Done right, it leaves an everlasting pleasant after taste.
Similarly, own the fact that you don't need tons of make-up to feel better about who you are, or to hide your "perceived" iniquities. Face the world as you, without enhancement, and you will grow to be more beautiful than you dare to dream. Remember, beauty unaware, a genuine smile, kind eyes, and dimples do more wonders than eyeliners and mascara combined.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Becoming an Audiologist
The following is a mock transcript of an interview done years down the road, when Andy has become a world renowned public figure. H stands for Host. And A stands for Andy. Enjoy!
H: Our next guest, often referred to affectionately by his colleagues as the Oliver Sacks of Audiology, is the Director-General of the World Health Organization, and is the first of his profession to hold such office. He has gained much recognition for his humanitarian efforts in promoting global awareness of hearing loss. You may know him as the author of the bestsellers titled: “Does Tinnitus Ring a Bell?”, and “”Vendi, Vidi, Vertigo: I Came, I Saw, I Got Dizzy”. Please join me in welcoming Dr. Andy Lau!
(Andy walks onto stage)
H: So Andy, tell us about what you do, I gather it is a profession that few have heard about.
A: What? Oh, right! Sorry, old audiology humor. Well, it’s very simple; I mainly studied the science of hearing and balance. I test people’s hearing, and I try to come up with new ways to help them improve their hearing. I also work with the vestibular system, that’s the system which monitors motor balance. People with dizziness issues, motion sickness usually have a problem in their vestibular system, and I work to help correct it.
H: Sounds interesting. So how did you get started? Did you grow up knowing that you would become an audiologist?
A: Well, no, actually. To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t know what audiology was until sophomore year in college -
H: - What?
A: - Ha-ha, yes. I went to college without the foggiest idea of what I want to major in. I remember being quite envious of my peers, dedicated individuals who knew from the first day as freshmen what they wanted to be. I was enjoying learning so much that my academic advisor worried that I would not graduate in time. Like any good professional, she referred me to the career’s center for further testing. They threw quite a battery of tests at me and were able to narrow me down to fields that were people-oriented with emphasis on nurturing and healing. Audiology, psychology, ministry and teaching came up. Then, they gave me one final test called the Kuder Occupational Interest Survey.
H: What is that?
A: Well, think of it as the eHarmony or Match.com of the occupational world, it compares your personality with those of people in various professions and tries to match you up with the best fit.
H: So, did it paired you up with audiology, and was it like love at first sight, you two hit it off right there and then?
A: Yes, and no… Audiology did come up as my top choice. But you know how it is in those romantic stories, where the guy either chooses to ignore his instincts, or didn’t think he is good enough for his true love meant to be, and went after the second best instead?
H: Yeah… but this story has a happy ending, right?
A: Yes, yes. But being the fool that I was, I went ahead and “courted” other fields instead before fate finally put me back on track again with audiology. I graduated with a degree in psychology, and landed a job as a research assistant at a coordinating center for clinical trials. I figured it was a good match, behind the scenes of healthcare and all. And it was, to some extent, but it was kind of passive. I needed something more hands on; something that would spark my enthusiasm, and allowed me to be truly empathetic. Luckily, I was staying with my best friend’s family at the time, and his mother is an Audiologist. You may have heard of her, Dr. Tomi Browne.
H: This is her right here (shows her on screen in pamphlet about Hearts of the Village).
A: Yes, that’s her. You can say she changed my life, she taught me what it means to be blessed and the philosophy of “pay it forward,” More importantly, she began to expose me to the world of audiology. Actually, to be honest, there is no way you can live with the Browne family and not being infected by the audiology bug. But it was through her that I fell in love with audiology for real.
H: So she was matchmaker and re-united you with audiology.
A: You can’t get away from something that is meant to be. I remember staying with the Browne’s family, and at the time they were very active with mission work involving this orphanage in Nairobi Kenya for HIV positive children.
H: (flashes photos of the Browne family visiting Nyumbani)
A: Anyway, one particular child from this orphanage, Mungai, had a profound hearing loss since birth. And it was determine that the situation could be rectified only with a cochlear implant – a procedure not available in Kenya. Mungai stayed with us, and over the course of four months, I witnessed the miracle unfold as doctors from Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia worked hard to help this child hear. It was simply awe inspiring.
H: (shows picture of Mungai)
A: I was really moved. Bit by bit, I became more interested in the field of audiology. It was around this time that I met another giant in the field of audiology – Dr. George Osborne.
H: George Osborne, as in the George Osborne College of Audiology from where you graduated?
A: Yes! Incidentally, that is the first time a college has been named after an Audiologist. Dr. Osborne was a good friend of Dr. Browne, and he visited with us often. I got to talk to him about audiology a lot, and we shared many spirited conversations on the subject. He was quite the visionary, and erudite. He was very passionate about the field audiology, and envisioned that it would grow into something big someday. He really believed in me, and strongly encouraged me to pursue audiology. It meant a lot to me that a man of his stature saw greatness in me.
H: Kind of like Dad giving permission to date his daughter, to continue in the analogy.
A: Right! I remember him employing his now famous lines on me “just go for it… you can do it!” I remember being really impressed with that attitude and his dedication to promoting the field of audiology to anyone and everyone. His life’s work was to spread the gift of hearing to as many as possible, and I share in that same vision.
H: So, it was history from that point onwards, right?
A: Yes, really. I started giving serious thoughts about becoming an audiologist, and during the winter of 2007, things started to fall into place. It started off with an invitation from Dr. Ken Henry to join his practice to see what it was like.
H: Wait a minute, Dr. Henry as in the director of Professional Hearing Services, one of the largest audiology practices on the Northeast coast-- Also one of the leading experts in vestibular rehabilitation?
A: Yep, that’s him. He is another good friend of Dr. Browne, and when he learned of my interest in audiology, he said to me “well, you have been on the sidelines watching all along, how about getting into it and see if you like it?” So I signed up to become an audiometric technician under his supervision. Let me tell you, it was an amazing experience. I never believed I could live everyday being so motivated, empathetic, and enthusiastic. Hearing aid technology still fascinates me. I loved working with the patients – young and old and watch them smile when they realize their hearing improved. I really wanted to become part of it.
H: So that did it for you, huh?
A: YES! It was one of those moments where you see things clearly. Well, that is what audiology was for me. I could see myself being with it forever, and I wasn’t scared, I didn’t feel trapped. If anything I was excited. Audiology embodies everything I was searching for…the human contact, nurturing and healing, the prospect of doing important research. I found my niche and who I was all at the same time. I realized I could be a nerd and human at the same time, how cool is that! It was excellent! I found my bliss.
H: Wow… that’s quite something.
H: Well, folks, that’s about sums it up for us. Dr. Lau, thank you so much for your time. It was great to hear what made you who you are today. You are living proof that the kindness of others can go a long way.
H: Our next guest, often referred to affectionately by his colleagues as the Oliver Sacks of Audiology, is the Director-General of the World Health Organization, and is the first of his profession to hold such office. He has gained much recognition for his humanitarian efforts in promoting global awareness of hearing loss. You may know him as the author of the bestsellers titled: “Does Tinnitus Ring a Bell?”, and “”Vendi, Vidi, Vertigo: I Came, I Saw, I Got Dizzy”. Please join me in welcoming Dr. Andy Lau!
(Andy walks onto stage)
H: So Andy, tell us about what you do, I gather it is a profession that few have heard about.
A: What? Oh, right! Sorry, old audiology humor. Well, it’s very simple; I mainly studied the science of hearing and balance. I test people’s hearing, and I try to come up with new ways to help them improve their hearing. I also work with the vestibular system, that’s the system which monitors motor balance. People with dizziness issues, motion sickness usually have a problem in their vestibular system, and I work to help correct it.
H: Sounds interesting. So how did you get started? Did you grow up knowing that you would become an audiologist?
A: Well, no, actually. To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t know what audiology was until sophomore year in college -
H: - What?
A: - Ha-ha, yes. I went to college without the foggiest idea of what I want to major in. I remember being quite envious of my peers, dedicated individuals who knew from the first day as freshmen what they wanted to be. I was enjoying learning so much that my academic advisor worried that I would not graduate in time. Like any good professional, she referred me to the career’s center for further testing. They threw quite a battery of tests at me and were able to narrow me down to fields that were people-oriented with emphasis on nurturing and healing. Audiology, psychology, ministry and teaching came up. Then, they gave me one final test called the Kuder Occupational Interest Survey.
H: What is that?
A: Well, think of it as the eHarmony or Match.com of the occupational world, it compares your personality with those of people in various professions and tries to match you up with the best fit.
H: So, did it paired you up with audiology, and was it like love at first sight, you two hit it off right there and then?
A: Yes, and no… Audiology did come up as my top choice. But you know how it is in those romantic stories, where the guy either chooses to ignore his instincts, or didn’t think he is good enough for his true love meant to be, and went after the second best instead?
H: Yeah… but this story has a happy ending, right?
A: Yes, yes. But being the fool that I was, I went ahead and “courted” other fields instead before fate finally put me back on track again with audiology. I graduated with a degree in psychology, and landed a job as a research assistant at a coordinating center for clinical trials. I figured it was a good match, behind the scenes of healthcare and all. And it was, to some extent, but it was kind of passive. I needed something more hands on; something that would spark my enthusiasm, and allowed me to be truly empathetic. Luckily, I was staying with my best friend’s family at the time, and his mother is an Audiologist. You may have heard of her, Dr. Tomi Browne.
H: This is her right here (shows her on screen in pamphlet about Hearts of the Village).
A: Yes, that’s her. You can say she changed my life, she taught me what it means to be blessed and the philosophy of “pay it forward,” More importantly, she began to expose me to the world of audiology. Actually, to be honest, there is no way you can live with the Browne family and not being infected by the audiology bug. But it was through her that I fell in love with audiology for real.
H: So she was matchmaker and re-united you with audiology.
A: You can’t get away from something that is meant to be. I remember staying with the Browne’s family, and at the time they were very active with mission work involving this orphanage in Nairobi Kenya for HIV positive children.
H: (flashes photos of the Browne family visiting Nyumbani)
A: Anyway, one particular child from this orphanage, Mungai, had a profound hearing loss since birth. And it was determine that the situation could be rectified only with a cochlear implant – a procedure not available in Kenya. Mungai stayed with us, and over the course of four months, I witnessed the miracle unfold as doctors from Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia worked hard to help this child hear. It was simply awe inspiring.
H: (shows picture of Mungai)
A: I was really moved. Bit by bit, I became more interested in the field of audiology. It was around this time that I met another giant in the field of audiology – Dr. George Osborne.
H: George Osborne, as in the George Osborne College of Audiology from where you graduated?
A: Yes! Incidentally, that is the first time a college has been named after an Audiologist. Dr. Osborne was a good friend of Dr. Browne, and he visited with us often. I got to talk to him about audiology a lot, and we shared many spirited conversations on the subject. He was quite the visionary, and erudite. He was very passionate about the field audiology, and envisioned that it would grow into something big someday. He really believed in me, and strongly encouraged me to pursue audiology. It meant a lot to me that a man of his stature saw greatness in me.
H: Kind of like Dad giving permission to date his daughter, to continue in the analogy.
A: Right! I remember him employing his now famous lines on me “just go for it… you can do it!” I remember being really impressed with that attitude and his dedication to promoting the field of audiology to anyone and everyone. His life’s work was to spread the gift of hearing to as many as possible, and I share in that same vision.
H: So, it was history from that point onwards, right?
A: Yes, really. I started giving serious thoughts about becoming an audiologist, and during the winter of 2007, things started to fall into place. It started off with an invitation from Dr. Ken Henry to join his practice to see what it was like.
H: Wait a minute, Dr. Henry as in the director of Professional Hearing Services, one of the largest audiology practices on the Northeast coast-- Also one of the leading experts in vestibular rehabilitation?
A: Yep, that’s him. He is another good friend of Dr. Browne, and when he learned of my interest in audiology, he said to me “well, you have been on the sidelines watching all along, how about getting into it and see if you like it?” So I signed up to become an audiometric technician under his supervision. Let me tell you, it was an amazing experience. I never believed I could live everyday being so motivated, empathetic, and enthusiastic. Hearing aid technology still fascinates me. I loved working with the patients – young and old and watch them smile when they realize their hearing improved. I really wanted to become part of it.
H: So that did it for you, huh?
A: YES! It was one of those moments where you see things clearly. Well, that is what audiology was for me. I could see myself being with it forever, and I wasn’t scared, I didn’t feel trapped. If anything I was excited. Audiology embodies everything I was searching for…the human contact, nurturing and healing, the prospect of doing important research. I found my niche and who I was all at the same time. I realized I could be a nerd and human at the same time, how cool is that! It was excellent! I found my bliss.
H: Wow… that’s quite something.
H: Well, folks, that’s about sums it up for us. Dr. Lau, thank you so much for your time. It was great to hear what made you who you are today. You are living proof that the kindness of others can go a long way.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Something I Wrote About Fridge Clean-up Duty
First e-mail to colleagues informing of the upcoming clean-up
1 And on the eleventh day of the sixth month, David spake unto Andy in the room of 69 saying,
2 Write ye electronically to the patrons of the kitchen near room area 70, saying, On the fourteenth day of this month they shall take upon them means to label things and mark that which they safe keep in the icebox.
3 For ye shall pass through said icebox on the noon of the fifteenth day and smite down all unclaimed items.
4 Ye shall sanitize and purify with cleaning agents this place of sub-zero temperature; making it suitable for the storage of victuals once more
5 All that is unaccounted for shall forever be banished to the realms of refuse.
6 Therefore, the labels shall be for them a token of where their provisions are: and when you see the labels, you shall pass over them, and the sanitization process shall not be upon their rations to destroy them
Response from my colleague
Pledge of Cleanliness
I pledge allegiance, to the labeling rule,
of the George Washington University Biostatistics Center.
And to the refrigerator, for which it stands,
one Work Force, under G.W.,
more responsible, with cleanliness and freshness for all.
We the people, of the Biostatistics Center, in order to form a more perfect refrigerator,
establish cleanliness, insure sanitary tranquility, provide for the common prevention of spoiled food,
promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of a clean refrigerator to ourselves and our posterity,
do ordain and establish this labeling process for the George Washington University Biostatistics center.
Shapla Choudhury
E-mail reporting the aftermath of the clean-up
Subject: Cleaning, the aftermath!
This just in folks,
Tropical Cyclone Andrew blew through the once quiet town of Icebox 70 around 12:00pm Eastern today leaving much devastation in its wake. Ranked by meteorologists as a Category 5 storm, TC Andrew seemingly just pop up out of nowhere on the radar screen this noon, and without much warning made its way through this once populated town at a nautical speed of 95 knots, later disappearing without a trace. It is still early to determine the exact amount of damage inflicted, and officials have so far refused to comment on the situation. Our local correspondent Andy reports,
(Turns to show disheveled Asian with the abysmally vacant fridge in the background)
Yes Diane, as you can see behind me, Hurricane Andrew has done quite a significant amount of damage to this once populated town of Icebox 70. At one time, dozens of ethnic foods had coexisted peacefully in this quaint neighborhood; but now, as you can see, only a few remain.
(Camera pans to earlier interviewees)
It all happened so fast, one minute we were chilling on our shelves, the next we were tossed about and thrown into this box says a jug of Lowfat Kifir Cultured Milk Smoothie.
He and a couple of items were caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the storm. Wrenched from their homes in a blur, they are now currently displaced into a box just on the outskirts of Icebox 70 awaiting relocation.
(Camera slowly fades out from the box, and pans to the garbage bin)
Sadly, they are just some of the fortunate ones. We drove around to the refuse dump on the corner where the clean-up crew has removed some of the unfortunate casualties of this storm- it was a gut-wrenching scene to behold. The victims were mostly cheese that didn't age well, carrots who were past the prime, and even a family of Chinese takeout who were simply caught unaware. Many did not see it coming, and had not taken the necessary steps to protect themselves with labels
Its tragic when these sort of things happen, says Pizza from the freezer who were amongst the few that were sheltered by magic markers, we were tight, you know. We used to joke around a lot... about who is going next? Whos got more culture and such? Now, they are all gone. (breaks down profusely)
Indeed, the remaining victuals are a sad bunch tonight, the empty and bare shelves a silent tribute to those that once stood there. My report here is done, back to you.
(Studio)
Thank you, Andy. That was Andy reporting live at the scene. If you want to find out if your rations survived the storm, please go to the box right located outside Icebox 70. Local residents who were displaced during the storm will be housed there temporary for the day before being shipped off to a more final destination. Thats all for now, we will bring you more updates as they come along..
1 And on the eleventh day of the sixth month, David spake unto Andy in the room of 69 saying,
2 Write ye electronically to the patrons of the kitchen near room area 70, saying, On the fourteenth day of this month they shall take upon them means to label things and mark that which they safe keep in the icebox.
3 For ye shall pass through said icebox on the noon of the fifteenth day and smite down all unclaimed items.
4 Ye shall sanitize and purify with cleaning agents this place of sub-zero temperature; making it suitable for the storage of victuals once more
5 All that is unaccounted for shall forever be banished to the realms of refuse.
6 Therefore, the labels shall be for them a token of where their provisions are: and when you see the labels, you shall pass over them, and the sanitization process shall not be upon their rations to destroy them
Response from my colleague
Pledge of Cleanliness
I pledge allegiance, to the labeling rule,
of the George Washington University Biostatistics Center.
And to the refrigerator, for which it stands,
one Work Force, under G.W.,
more responsible, with cleanliness and freshness for all.
We the people, of the Biostatistics Center, in order to form a more perfect refrigerator,
establish cleanliness, insure sanitary tranquility, provide for the common prevention of spoiled food,
promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of a clean refrigerator to ourselves and our posterity,
do ordain and establish this labeling process for the George Washington University Biostatistics center.
Shapla Choudhury
E-mail reporting the aftermath of the clean-up
Subject: Cleaning, the aftermath!
This just in folks,
Tropical Cyclone Andrew blew through the once quiet town of Icebox 70 around 12:00pm Eastern today leaving much devastation in its wake. Ranked by meteorologists as a Category 5 storm, TC Andrew seemingly just pop up out of nowhere on the radar screen this noon, and without much warning made its way through this once populated town at a nautical speed of 95 knots, later disappearing without a trace. It is still early to determine the exact amount of damage inflicted, and officials have so far refused to comment on the situation. Our local correspondent Andy reports,
(Turns to show disheveled Asian with the abysmally vacant fridge in the background)
Yes Diane, as you can see behind me, Hurricane Andrew has done quite a significant amount of damage to this once populated town of Icebox 70. At one time, dozens of ethnic foods had coexisted peacefully in this quaint neighborhood; but now, as you can see, only a few remain.
(Camera pans to earlier interviewees)
It all happened so fast, one minute we were chilling on our shelves, the next we were tossed about and thrown into this box says a jug of Lowfat Kifir Cultured Milk Smoothie.
He and a couple of items were caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the storm. Wrenched from their homes in a blur, they are now currently displaced into a box just on the outskirts of Icebox 70 awaiting relocation.
(Camera slowly fades out from the box, and pans to the garbage bin)
Sadly, they are just some of the fortunate ones. We drove around to the refuse dump on the corner where the clean-up crew has removed some of the unfortunate casualties of this storm- it was a gut-wrenching scene to behold. The victims were mostly cheese that didn't age well, carrots who were past the prime, and even a family of Chinese takeout who were simply caught unaware. Many did not see it coming, and had not taken the necessary steps to protect themselves with labels
Its tragic when these sort of things happen, says Pizza from the freezer who were amongst the few that were sheltered by magic markers, we were tight, you know. We used to joke around a lot... about who is going next? Whos got more culture and such? Now, they are all gone. (breaks down profusely)
Indeed, the remaining victuals are a sad bunch tonight, the empty and bare shelves a silent tribute to those that once stood there. My report here is done, back to you.
(Studio)
Thank you, Andy. That was Andy reporting live at the scene. If you want to find out if your rations survived the storm, please go to the box right located outside Icebox 70. Local residents who were displaced during the storm will be housed there temporary for the day before being shipped off to a more final destination. Thats all for now, we will bring you more updates as they come along..
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)