This Saturday in (Medical) Science

Try not to be jealous of those fabulous calves of mine people.

So we've spent a lot of time in our This Saturday in Science features, exploring space, beneath the ocean and, um, back to space again, so we figured it might be time to explore some inner space, like the kind inside our bodies.

Luckily, just as that thought occurred to me, I had reason to visit the emergency room at Pottstown Memorial Medical Center.

This thing is definitely science-related....

As it turns out, ever since I was a tyke, I've had an umbilical hernia.

It means there is a space in the muscle wall (not that this is an area of my body known for its muscle tone) and
sometimes, things that belong inside, can peek through the hole.

That's the scientific explanation for a hernia, I swear.

Anyway, other than an abnormally violent objection to being tickled there, it never gave me any problem and I never paid it any mind -- until last weekend that is.

I'll spare you the details of the lead-up.

Let's just say some pain, a terrifying trip through medical pages on the Internet, and a call to our on-call doctor ended up in a late night Sunday visit withour friends in the emergency room.

Now, to be sure, there were lots of needles, gadgets and gizmos that were all sciency.

But the actual healing came about as the result of some expert laying on of hands by the doctor on call who essentially put everything back where it belonged without nearly as much pain as I imagined it would entail.

Despite the obvious advantages, this port is apparently
not designed for the delivery of spirits. 

So, thanks for that.

I thought that was pretty cool and was ready to up and leave at that point, which would have made this a very short post.

Pain gone?

Problem solved, let's go.

Yeah, not so fast.

Eventually, after the paperwork, the bureaucracy and the actual treatment, we got to the science.

Naturally, blood had to be taken for testing and the nurse left behind a "port" in my hand so they could get any old substance they wanted to into my system.

I agitated for vodka with disappointing results.

Eventually, I did get a drink, although it was not quite what I had in mind.

It seems that after dealing with the problem, they had to be sure they understood the problem. That meant getting a look at my insides without opening me up to have a look, a course of action which received my vigorous endorsement.

The tool of choice Sunday night was a cat scan.

And, it seems, in order to get the best look inside, they need something to highlight the areas they wanted to look at.

Enter, the beverage.

I'm not sure what it was called, but I do know peach ice tea will never again hold quite the same allure for me.

I had to drink all 900 ml of this stuff; not my idea of

an enjoyable drinking contest.

It took a good 20 minutes to get the stuff down, and although I will confess my skepticism about the straw being a big help, that turned out to be the case.

I guess the soda people are on to something.

Anyway, after consuming this muddy looking brew, all 900 milliliters of it, came the best part -- the waiting.

Two hours of it.

So I don't know about you, but waiting around in a hospital, whether in the waiting room or back in the room with the curtain, is about as boring as it gets.

They had a television, but of course it didn't work.

Now, as these photos have no doubt indicated, we had a smart phone at our disposal, but you know what, there's only so much information on the Internet, and after two hours, we knew we would heave read it all.

Besides, the battery was low and we had to preserve our photographic equipment for the photos still to come.

Luckily, being old-school types, we had come well-prepared.

We brought books.

It's funny, when you think about it, but in my house, when you're heading out the door to the emergency room, the things you check for are your keys, your wallet, your insurance card and, of course, a good book.

A good book: Never Leave Home Without One.

Luckily for me, I often have at least two going at the same time.

I decided against the 1,000-page history tome I've been quietly digesting for months, and instead brought along a lovely little book my wife recommended: "Gilead" by Marilynne Robinson.

It won the Pulitzer in 2005 and reading it, I can see why.

Nothing takes your mind off your mortality quite like good writing.

The two hours passed, well, like two hours always passes in an emergency room -- good book or not -- slowly.

Finally, a man showed up at about 1 a.m. much too alert for the hour it seemed to me, to take me on a ride to the cat scan room.

This part was undoubtedly scientific.

The cat scanner, if that's what you call it, is a big circular machine, that looks a little like the time arch in an old Star Trek episode.

They hooked up some iodine to my port.

I asked if we would at least put port in my port, but again, science came before celebration.

The cat scan machine talks to you and, like a good patient, I did what it told me to do (good practice for the robot takeover of the world no doubt). It consisted primarily of telling me when to hold my breath.

Then, don't hold your breath, came more waiting.

I tried, and failed to catch some shut-eye.

Finally, a different doctor arrived, had a look at the report, at my blood test results and told me I could go home, that it wasn't that serious and that I should go see another doctor (which is a pretty full summary of most of my medical science experiences.)

Never underestimate the mood enhancing power of the mighty Thor!

But as we slipped me out of my fashionable gown, the one with the daring dip in the back, I noticed a set of high-tech mood enhancers sitting on the counter.

It didn't seem like anyone would mind....

....after all, who needs more mood enhancement than an emergency room patient?

But I'm afraid the only science involved here was psychology.

You see, in addition to being a science fiction geek, I'm also a comic book geek, so who better to enhance my mood than the mighty Thor?

Although I will confess, as super-heroes go, he's not that big into science....

Borough Hall Lock-Down

Photo by Evan Brandt

The new, "secure vestibule" was partially installed in the Public Works Department by Tuesday afternoon.

Already home to the Pottstown's police force, other sections of Pottstown Borough Hall are becoming more secure this week as well.

New walls and vestibules with glass security windows and chrome-plated pass-through trays are being installed throughout the second and third-floor offices of borough hall.

Not So Good Photo by Evan Brandt

The new "secure vestibule" outside the office of 

Borough Manager Mark Flanders

The barriers being erected between the public and their paid employees are similar to those already in place at the finance window on the second floor where bills are paid.

Now, the other departments will be located behind similar barriers as well.

Borough Manager Mark Flanders said the new construction is a security measure to make the borough hall staff feel more secure.

There was at least one previous hostile encounter for Finance Director Janice Lee, who had to face down an angry property owner over a water shut-off.

Flanders said the money to pay for the construction is part of the 2013 budget.

At least one of the contractors doing the work said installing the walls required tearing out half-walls and counters put in just last year.

A Story Shandy Hill Would Have Loved

Sage Reinhart, Pottstown, in foreground, working with youngsters at a Trojan Youth Camp work shop. This year, Reinhart was the quarterback for Pottstown High School's football team.

The Greater Pottstown Foundation has awarded a $30,000 scholarship to a graduating Pottstown High School senior as the result of an essay he wrote about the impact of growing up and going to school in Pottstown.

The Shandy Hill Scholarship, named after the founding editor and publisher of The Mercury, was awarded to Sage Reinhart.

Paul Prince, chairman of the foundation, called Reinhart's essay "intriguing" in the May 30 letter he sent to Pottstown High School Principal Stephen Rodriguez announcing the award.

Reinhart "perceptively comes to understand that quality is not inherently fiar and skill and talent do not necessarily result in advancement," Prince wrote.

"On a different note, I must inform you that Pottstown offered a number of excellent essays," Prince wrote. "In fact, we were confronted with the greatest quantity of quality essays we have seen in many years." 

Reinhart was awarded a $30,000 scholarship to be used over the next four years. 

He competed against senior students from The Hill School, OJR, Pottsgrove and Pottstown.

Here, in its entirety is Reinhart's essay:

“It’s not fair!”

That complaint would earn you laps. And more laps. And probably even more. Coach just let you run until he decided -- or remembered -- to tell you to stop. Even those of us who didn’t pick up stuff too quickly learned pretty fast that “fair” wasn’t a word we used on the football field.

Reinhart received a "Mini-Maxwell this year.

As a Pottstown High School athlete, I played on a level playing field. Once the pads, the uniform, and the helmets went on, we were all the same. The only thing that made us different was what we brought THAT day -- the effort, the skill, and the attitude during THAT practice or THAT game. The past was the past and we only got as far as what we contributed and worked for at that moment.

That focus -- on the practice, on the game -- made everyone equal. We didn’t have to worry about “fair” because we all got the same shot at success, and that was fair in coach’s book.

Up until a little bit ago, I thought those lessons I learned on the playing field pretty much summed up life. With practice, skill, and determination, anyone could accomplish anything. But, in the spring of my senior year, as college acceptances rolled in, my eyes opened to a much larger playing field; and I saw that not all arenas are quite as “even” as the ones I played in. Two of my friends were pretty equal as students. Both excelled in the classroom, both were athletes, both wanted to go to Yale. Only one got admitted.

Now I always heard people talking smack on other people. That was nothing new. But, when my white friend did not get into Yale, and my black friend did -- there was more talk than just the usual trash. It was all about race and how “blacks got everything.” I’ll admit, it didn’t seem fair -- actually, it went against everything that I thought I had learned about life: You get in the game and give it all you have -- and the best team wins. Yale wasn’t even letting my white friend on the field.

As a lifelong Pottstown resident, I have been around diverse groups of people everywhere I’ve gone. In a town that has been transformed by the loss of factories and steel mills, Pottstown has developed a large rental-housing base. Many people with low paying jobs or no jobs at all are attracted to the low-cost housing available here. As a school district, Pottstown has the highest poverty rate in Montgomery County at almost 16%. We have one of the most racially diverse schools in the local area, ranking even statewide in the top 10% of both black / African-American populations as well as Hispanic populations. Having so much diversity around me, I am not accustomed to the levels of resentment that this college admissions process exposed. I began to examine my beliefs.

Reinhart, right, giving a few football lessons.

I come from a family of small business owners. My great grandparents and grandparents on both my mom’s and dad’s sides began businesses in Pottstown. They grew up in this town, made friends, and needed to make their way in this world. Though they didn’t work at any of the foundries, steel or textile mills or machine shops throughout the region, their businesses served the people that worked in these places. A bridal shoppe and a painting business were the ways that my family invested in both Pottstown and in the future. No one handed my family anything. They got in the game by working hard; and they kept up the success by never quitting, never complaining, and never whining about things being “fair.”

My grandfather, in particular, believed in practice, skill, and determination -- just like my football coach. As I heard more and more people talk about how some people didn’t get into Yale and others did, I really began to think. In talking to my brother, I remembered a family story that helped me get a perspective on the situation and to think about what I believe. My grandfather was called “Deacon” by everyone in town. He was an outstanding high school football player and a well-respected person in Pottstown. We always talked about how he had been written about in Earl Davis’s autobiography From Carolina Chain Gangs to Earl of Alaska. Davis had been a criminal, who eventually was in federal prison, but my grandfather Deacon Reinhart gave him a job -- and that was the start of a turn around in Davis’s life, the beginning of his success. Deacon looked at a man who had less than nothing and gave him something -- a chance.

Maybe that is what this admissions thing is -- a chance. Because no matter how else I look at it and no matter how diverse my friends are, one thing remains: Pottstown’s poverty is largely black-faced. When our big businesses and factories closed, many of our white workers relocated. Our changing town provided a chance for many without housing and a good school system to have just that. Maybe Yale was just “upping the ante” -- giving a chance to someone who historically had been denied that by white America.

I have always known that “fair” isn’t a rule in the game of life, just like on the football field. Now, I realize more than ever, that the field is not level -- and it is not because of me or because of any of my friends. It’s not because Pottstown has low-income housing or because we are diverse. The field of life is not level because not everyone comes to the game with the same equipment. Some Americans have been denied the chance for their great-grandparents and grandparents to get in the game. They never HAD a chance to play because of decades of racial discrimination, exploitation, and outright slavery. If we as a society expect everyone to be able to compete, we have to make sure that we give chances to those who might be different than we are. Some, like Earl Davis, might have issues that prevent them from being “employable,” but given the opportunity might be able to contribute significant things to society. Others might find that decades of lost opportunity means that they need both a “hand out” and a “hand up.” Either way, I know two things: one, I am glad to have had the chance to be educated and trained in a color-blind system, the Pottstown School District; and, two, I am realizing that equipping people to play the game might not be as uniform as some think. Everyone deserves a chance -- that chance might just look different for different people.

Reinhart, No. 9, with his fellow Trojans.

They've Been Working on the Railroad

Volunteers along the Colebrookdale Spur

Blogger's Note: The following is provided by Nathaniel Guest on behalf of the effort to transform the Colebrookdale Spur into a tourist excursion railroad.

On Saturday June 8 and Sunday June 9, teams of volunteers came out to the

Colebrookdale to accomplish a very important task: cleaning up the right of way.

For some time, the Colebrookdale Railroad Preservation Trust has been advocating and planning for a tourist passenger railroad on the Colebrookdale. 

A recent report found that the Colebrookdale as a tourist railroad can be a powerful engine of economic development for our region.

One of our goals in getting the railroad ready for prime time has been to clean up the line. 

Saturday and Sunday brought 40 volunteers. 

The Pottstown Roller Derby Rockstars led the charge on Sunday, augmented by folks from the Montgomery County ARD program on Saturday.

Berks County Subway provided lunch for all volunteers, and the Pottstown Health and Wellness Foundation provided water. 

J.P. Mascaro & Sons provided two dumpsters. 

The clean up was coordinated by the Beanie Clark with support from the Borough of Pottstown.

Tennis Anyone?

Pottsgrove Middle School Educators Honored

Pottsgrove Middle School counselor Kimberly Kelly with students.

Pottsgrove Middle School Counselor, Kimberly Kelly, has been recognized as

Kim Kelly with her award.

Montgomery County Counselor of the Year for 2013 by the Montgomery County Counselors Association, Principal Bill Ziegler reports..

"It is my honor to congratulate Kim Kelly," Ziegler said prior to a recent special luncheon during which she was recognized with a plaque for special recognition from the association.

"Our faculty and staff are so proud of Mrs. Kelly for this prestigious award; she plays such an instrumental role in the life of our school," Ziegler wrote in a note to The Digital Notebook.

"This is the same recognition that Mr. Kincaid received in 2010 as he was selected as the 2010 Montgomery Counselor of the Year," he added.

But Kelly was not the only award-winner in the building.

Pottsgrove Middle School Physical Education Teacher, Marilyn Eaton, was selected as the NFL's Fuel Up to Play 60 Advisor for Pennsylvania and the Pottsgrove Middle School FUP60 team was also recognized at the highest level, according to Ziegler.

"Marilyn was recognized for her achievement in the Mid-Atlantic Dairy and NFL's partnership of the Fuel Up to Play 60 program which encourages students to make sure that they get 60 minutes of physical activity each day to stay healthy and strong," Ziegler wrote.

"Marilyn and the Fuel Up to Play 60 PGMS Teacher team attended a special reception at Lincoln Financial Field. At this event, Marilyn had an opportunity to showcase the great work of our students and staff," according to Ziegler.

Marilyn Eaton shows off her Eagles pride.

"Mrs. Eaton is now responsible for the leadership of the Pennsylvania Fuel Up to Play 60 program which helps schools to find ways to get students physically active for at least 60 minutes each day," he wrote.

In addition to Marilyn's honor, the PGMS Fuel Up to Play 60 Teacher Team won the highest recognition from the FUP60 for their full implementation of the program at PGMS.

During this evening event, teachers got a chance to meet with Philadelphia Eagle Tight End, Brent Celek, tour Lincoln Financial Field, and connect with a local dairy farmer.

The FUP60 Team of Teachers Include: Marilyn Eaton, Julie Davis, Stacy McHugh, Deb Arnosky, Steve Pallidino, Jennifer Forwood, Gloria Fritz, Christine Henry, Deb MacIlvain, Jim Polli, Susan Rutter, Eric Engstrom, Deb Frasca, Justin Giles, Cristina Kleinfelter, and Jodi Sproule.

"Congratulations to the entire Fuel Up to Play 60 PGMS Team, and Mrs. Eaton as she now will be leading the state for the next school year with the FUP60 program," Ziegler wrote.

Marilyn Eaton and a local dairy farmer at the FuelUp to Play 60 Ceremony.

George Orwell is Laughing At Us

I used to joke about wanting to see my FBI file.

This was said in the vain hope that I actually had one.

There was a part of me that felt it would be kind of a curmudgeon's badge of honor to have one, but I wasn't quite sure I had been enough of a pain in the ass to merit one.

Turns out its not so special.

Turns out, we all have one.

Turns out all you need to do to merit being under surveillance in the United States is to be born in the United States, have an inalienable right to protection from unreasonable searches and seizures, and then have that right summarily ignored under some nebulously defined threat which will never go away.

Oh yeah, and own a phone or use a computer.

So first, thanks to The Guardian, a British newspaper whose financial foundations are shaky at best, we learn that the National Security Agency, which is charged with keeping an eye on foreign developments, has been collecting the phone records of millions of Verizon customers on a daily basis.

(Here's the court order that makes it all legal.)

The Verizon order was made under the provisions of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (Fisa) as amended by the Patriot Act of 2001, passed in the wake of the 9/11 attacks, The Guardian reports.

The Guardian also reported that:

The court order appears to explain the numerous cryptic public warnings by two US senators, Ron Wyden and Mark Udall, about the scope of the Obama administration's surveillance activities.

For roughly two years, the two Democrats have been stridently advising the public that the US government is relying on "secret legal interpretations" to claim surveillance powers so broad that the American public would be "stunned" to learn of the kind of domestic spying being conducted.

Sadly,  I think they overestimate the American public's sensitivity to this issue.

Me? I'm just stunned that two elected officials in Washington actually seem concerned about this.

Although, maybe when the public realizes the Obama administration considers them no more worthy of Constitutional protections then journalists, THAT will make them mad.

I mean come on. Journalists? Those guys are awful!

Then comes the news from The Washington Post that our friends at the NSA and FBI are also "tapping directly into the central servers of nine leading U.S. Internet companies, extracting audio and video chats, photographs, e-mails, documents, and connection logs that enable analysts to track foreign targets, according to a top-secret document obtained by The Washington Post."

Like a bad spy novel, the Post reports the program is "code-named PRISM" and operates by:

"Collection directly from the servers of these U.S. Service Providers: Microsoft, Yahoo, Google, Facebook, PalTalk, AOL, Skype, YouTube, Apple.”

London’s Guardian newspaper reported Friday that GCHQ, Britain’s equivalent of the NSA, also has been secretly gathering intelligence from the same internet companies through an operation set up by the NSA.

All of this collection of "meta-data" is done by merely taking the information we gleefully allow private companies to collect on us all the time in exchange for convenience, so the government asking for information that already exists all seems kind of normal.

It shouldn't.

It should worry the hell out of us.

For those of us who think the Constitution is only about guns and free speech, permit a refresher on the Fourth Amendment:

"The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized."

No doubt the legal argument here is that the government is only taking what we have freely given to giant corporations.

It does not, however, make me feel secure in my papers or effects," and it appears the only "probable cause" or "affirmation," the government has offered in seizing this information is: "some of you might be terrorists."

I call it this the Jeff Foxworthy (of "You might be a red neck" fame) rationale.

We can spy on everyone because, well, some of you might be  a terrorist, if not now, then maybe some day.

This kind of "perpetual crisis" not only provides job security for everyone in the security business, it also means they will ever stop collecting this information and potentially using it against us for reasons that have very little to do with terrorism.

So if you don't have a file with the good old FBI, then maybe you've got one with the NSA, or maybe the CIA or even some agency so secret we're not even allowed to know it exists.

(Please note here that these are NEWSPAPERS no one buys anymore undertaking these investigations. No major network would have the balls to confront the government like this. Keeping those in power accountable is the job of a free press and, these stories indicate, we are still, sometimes, up to the job.

On my desk at work, I have a quote from Winston Churchill taped to my computer: "A free press is the unsleeping guardian of every other right that free men prize."

So when newspapers finally go away, so too will another avenue to find out what the hell our government is doing. But hey, at least we'll always know when Lindsay Fucking Lohan goes back to rehab again! End of rant.) 

It was inevitable I suppose.

Since the Internet, technology has raced forward at a pace far exceeding our ability to understand its full implications or recognize its downsides, much less muster the collective political will to do something about it.

Needless to say, the security agencies immediately recognized the opportunities and capitalized upon the inability of the political arm to adapt our laws to recognize that communication in an envelope should enjoy the same protections as communication in a virtual envelope.

They might need a court order to open your physical mail, but apparently all it takes is one to open EVERYONE's e-mail, or Internet searches, or Google searches of Skype conversations.

Once the law catches up to those practices, if ever, the government, our government, will already have stockpiled millions of pieces of data on its citizens for use as they see fit in the never-ending "war on terror."

(Seriously, how does one win a "war on terror." When a child gets terrified on a roller coaster, who do we declare war on? The child? The roller coaster?)

And once they have this information, how realistic is it that a law would be passed making them stop or give it back, particularly given that the law, process for enforcing it and contents of the searches are all secret?

These intrusions into our privacy began under President Bush's administration, but it is President Obama who has chosen to continue them and, in some ways, that makes him more guilty in my eyes.

Because, unlike Bush, Obama promised to stop these practices and has, instead, expanded them.

Combine these outrages with a drone program that kills American citizens without trial and one begins to consider that perhaps its not the Second Amendment we need to worry about this president undermining -- it's all the others.

These are supposed to be our founding principles. If we abandon them for convenience or because we're scared or under attack, how sacred can we really be said to consider them?

The fact that Ben Franklin's quote about "those who would sacrifice liberty in exchange for security deserve neither" is so overused its become trite, does not make it any less true.

Why should be we worried about this?

Pretty simple really and Guardian columnist Glenn Greenwald puts it simply:

"No healthy democracy can endure when the most consequential acts of those in power remain secret and unaccountable."