Archive for the ‘Projects’ Category

Blood work: TEG in the trauma room

Thursday, June 19th, 2008

In April, I wrote an article on my father‘s research: the potential of a blood test, called TEG, of warning doctors of life-threatening blood problems. I wrote this for a course on science journalism I took this past semester. The prof, Alf, passed it on to Anne and Anna who published it in Inkling Magazine.

Traffic is moving well. I’m in a car with Dr. Sandro Rizoli, somewhere between Toronto and Hamilton, Ontario. There are coolers full of blood in the back seats and trunk. “If someone rear-ends us right now,” Dr. Rizoli says, “they’re going to feel really bad: there’ll be blood everywhere.”

He jokes, but he takes car accidents very seriously in his work as a surgeon. Car accidents are one of the leading causes of life-threatening injuries, what doctors call trauma. Of all the Canadians admitted for trauma each year, 6500 die. It is the leading cause of death for people under the age of 45 in Canada and worldwide.

“Trauma patients die from two things: head injuries or bleeding,” says Dr. Rizoli. Head injuries and brain damage are tough, but “patients that don’t stop bleeding are worse. No matter how well we stitch them up, if they keep bleeding, they won’t get better.”

Dr. Rizoli is the director of trauma research at the Sunnybrook Institute and an assistant professor at the University of Toronto. His research focuses on bleeding and trauma. He is also my dad, which is why I am in the car with him. He needs someone to carry the coolers.

Read the whole story at Inkling. Thanks to Alf, Anne, and, of course, my pops for helping me out with it.

My English translation of O que será que será (À flor da terra) by Chico Buarque

Monday, March 5th, 2007

What is it, what is it
That goes sighing through the alcoves
That goes whispering in verses and lyrics
That goes by in dark corners in small houses
That goes through minds and mouths
That goes lighting candles along dark alleys
That speaks loudly in bars
That yells in the markets, that certainly
Is in nature, Is it
That which is never certain, and never will be
That which is not fixed, and never will be
That which has no size

What is it, what is it
That lives in the ideas of these lovers
That the most delirious poets sing
That the crazed prophets vow
Is in the processions of the mutilated
Is in the fantasies of the miserable
Is in the day-to-day of the prostitutes
Is in the plans of thieves, of the handicapped
In all senses, Is it
That which has no decency, and never will
That which does not self-censor, and never will
That which makes no sense

What is it, what is it
That no warning will help avoid
Because laughter will defy it
Because all the bells will play it
Because all hymns will consecrate it
And all the boys will let it loose
And all destinies will meet
And even the Holy Father, who is never really there
When looking at that hell, will bless it
That which has no government, and never will
That which has no shame, and never will
That which has no judgement

What is it, what is it
That no warning will help avoid
Because laughter will defy it
Because all the bells will play it
Because all hymns will consecrate it
And all the boys will let it loose
And all destinies will meet
And even the Holy Father, who is never really there
When looking at that hell, will bless it
That which has no government, and never will
That which has no shame, and never will
That which has no judgement

(Original lyrics in Portuguese)