Precious Memories

Precious memories, how they linger
How they ever flood my soul
In the stillness of the midnight
Precious sacred scenes unfold

–from the gospel hymn “Precious Memories”

Among the idle thoughts that rattled around in my brain driving back and forth to Birmingham this weekend was my earliest memory.

It must have been sometime in early to mid-1963 when I was around 18-20 months old. It’s the middle of the night and I’m waking up fussing and crying in my crib. I look up and my mother is standing over me, her hair matted and her eyes half-closed, and she hands me a baby bottle filled with Coca-Cola which I eagerly grab and begin to suckle vigorously like a new-born piglet on his mother’s teat.… Read the rest

One Man, One Slide

John had always told me, “Mike, when you walk into a room, you’ve got to make them believe that you’re the biggest gunslinger in the bar.”

He was referring to the way that I carried myself as I walked into the exam room. I guess he must have noticed the deer-in-the-headlamps expression on my face and the way that my jaw dragged along the floor as I encountered a dizzying array of eye disorders and diseases in those early days of my residency; nasty, often bloody, blinding stuff that never looked (or acted) quite the same way as the atlases and textbooks said it would.… Read the rest

PowerPointless in Huntsville

PowerPoint also conditions worshipers to act and react in visceral ways, so that the character of their bodily actions and emotional responses are at times downright Pavlovian. The screen, not the altar or cross, becomes the all-consuming center of attention, an object of intense fixation which triggers predictable reflexes and behaviors. When PowerPoint malfunctions, for instance, people become nervous and lost; they become conditioned to worry that it will malfunction. They find themselves thinking more about the screen and the technician at the soundboard than about the God whom they’ve come to worship and the larger worshiping body of which they are a part.

… Read the rest

The Gator Age

“I remember when I was telling people, ‘I’m going back to school,’ and they’re like, ‘Huh? What? Are you crazy?'” But you know what? I feel like now all of a sudden people understand that it’s more than money. It’s more than that…Money doesn’t always buy happiness.”

–Joakim Noah

Despite the goofy hair and the flailing chicken dance, I have to admit, he’s right.

I also have to admit that this is the best college basketball team that we’ve seen in quite a while. I almost hate to see the Gator Age end.

Almost.… Read the rest

I Hate Diplopia

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I hate diplopia (i.e. “double vision”). When a patient presents with that complaint, it usually means that I have to slow down, change my exam, perform different tests and ask a whole different set of questions than I normally would. I deal with it, but it’s a real time sink. One of those, especially early in the morning, gets me behind schedule for the rest of the day.

If the Florida Gators win tonight, then I’ll have a whole new set of reasons to despise diplopia. For one, it would mean that those slimy reptiles would then have become the latest team to win two titles in a row, replacing my beloved but down-in-the-dumps Blue Devils who currently hold that distinction (’91, ’92).… Read the rest

Life Is A Test

It’s ironic that after all my prattling on about basketball these last few weeks, I won’t even be around to watch the Final Four Saturday. Instead, I’ll be at the Southern College of Optometry in Memphis where I’ll be serving as an examiner with the National Board of Optometry. Fourth year optometry students take the Clinical Skills portion of the National Board shortly before graduating, and while for most it won’t be the last hurdle involved in obtaining a license to practice, it is a pretty significant one.

Basically, the students rotate among different stations where they perform various clinical procedures which are commonly done during an eye exam.… Read the rest

Schadenfreude Has Its Limits

As much as I like to joke around about the UNC-Duke rivalry, schadenfreude has its limits. It goes without saying (but I’m going to say it anyway) that the feeling doesn’t extend to a tragic situation like this.

As the father of three sons who are increasingly out and about and pushing the envelope of safety, this one hits home. UNC mascot Jason Ray sounds like the kind of son that anyone would be proud to claim. My prayers go out for his family, friends, the UNC community and the unfortunate driver who was an unwitting participant in this tragic event.… Read the rest