A Public Health Worker in SXSW Court

I always figured if I was ever asked to serve as a SXSW panelist, it would be for something having to do with music. So imagine my surprise when good ol' public health got me into SXSW Interactive for the first time.

On Sunday morning, I was on a panel to discuss the use of social media to eliminate health disparities among minority populations. Although my program's forays into social media for HIV/STD prevention have been limited and inconclusive at best, I felt like I was at least able to convey the (ahem) challenges one must face when attempting to implement something new and not especially predicable at a government agency. That doesn't mean you can't change things in a bureaucracy, but it does mean you'd better take a mighty long view of things if you don't want to lose your head. It was great to hear that experience reaffirmed by several others while learning about their work.

Aside from going slightly over my allotted time (next time I do a panel presentation, I'm going to have a timer right in front of me), my only regret about SXSW Interactive has been not getting to fully immerse myself in it due to time-sensitive projects at work, gearing up for SXSW Music, Kate's busy schedule, tax preparation and wanting to see my son for a couple of hours over the weekend. There's a lot of potential synergy between emerging technologies and public health in everything from disease management to patient advocacy to data management. Here's hoping SXSW Interactive's embrace of health continues in coming years.

Cloud Nothings "Should've Been"

I'm a sucker for heart-on-sleeve collegiate pop records like this one from Cleveland's Cloud Nothings, who'll be in Austin next week for SXSW. That goes double when it's accompanied by an infectiously cute-and-clever video I can easily appropriate for STD prevention work in my day job. This one is rife with choices and consequences. The rest of Cloud Nothings' self-titled debut is also pretty good if you like this sort of thing.

Out of the Fog

Owing to both a welcome batch of pre-SXSW writing assignments and an unwelcome kid sickness, I've been mired in blog silence all week. There's plenty to write about, but no time to write.

Alex's 1st birthday weekend was a lot of fun until his bronchitis morphed into a feverish ear infection. Most of my undershirts are now specked with tell-tale pink amoxicillin stains. The boy hasn't been himself all week, but I think he's slowly emerging from the fog.

As long as the supermarket grocery circulars go out on time, Fave Five Food Deals will return next week.

Tired Old Dogs

This week, I found out I have plantar fasciitis in my left foot. The plantar fascia is the connective tissue that supports the arch of the foot. When this tissue gets inflamed, your heel really lets you know about it in a bad way.

The first line of treatment for plantar fasciitis is foot exercises that get the plantar fascia stretched before you get out of bed to take your first step. From there, it's on to more expensive shoes with better arch support, insoles, heel cups and whatever else might do the trick.

In the grand scheme of things, plantar fasciitis is hardly the worst thing that could happen to a body of my vintage. It still pisses me off, though. Anything that threatens my ability to take a daily health walk is threatening my ability to stay sane and fight the belly tire.

Most of all, it's a minor-but-irrefutable reminder of critical parts wearing down that pops up every time I take a step.

I'm Gonna Ferberize You, Baby

Alex has really come into his own over the last several weeks. At nine and a half months, he's crawling all over the house, his smile now includes four top front teeth and his expressions are increasingly those of a little boy rather than an infant.

The one problem we've run into is sleep. For months, Alex would wake up a couple of times a night and we'd go into his room to rock him back to sleep. Each wake-up took about 10 minutes. This wasn't ideal, but it was manageable between two people.

Then he started cutting teeth. The resulting soreness dramatically increased the amount of time Kate and I had to spend walking and rocking him. Even if he appeared to be sound asleep after 45 minutes, he would often start crying again within a minute after we placed him back in the crib.

We figured this would only happen when he had new teeth coming in. We were wrong. In spending such a long time getting him to sleep in our arms, we unintentionally created a new sleep habit that wasn't serving any of us well.

The prolonged sleep deprivation took a toll. My back was killing me and it became more difficult for me to fight off background anxieties. Even after Alex got to sleep, I'd lay awake in bed, playing worst-case scenarios of all sorts on an endless loop in my head. My waking attitude toward life in general became more dour and cynical.

Both Kate and I started forgetting things. Until I read Kate's blog post from yesterday, I'd totally forgotten the following episode of extreme forgetfulness even happened:

One afternoon this fall, Greg and I took Alex out somewhere. I think it was the Farmer's Market. We had a lovely time, and congratulated ourselves on making it out of the house and participating in one of the many, many activities that Austin has to offer. That self-satisfaction wore right off when we returned home to find that we'd left the door open. By "open" I don't mean unlocked - I mean we'd left the front door wide open. Luckily, everything in our house was intact and where we'd left it. But wow, did we feel stupid.

Visiting my family in Houston for Thanksgiving was a blast, but the change of scenery only compounded Alex's inability to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. We arrived back in Austin last Sunday hoping against our better judgment that being back home would help get Alex back on his pre-teething sleep schedule. It did not.

Around 4am on Wednesday morning, Kate and I came to an agreement that the current situation was no longer sustainable. I'd mentioned the idea of using the Ferber Method of sleep training to Kate before, but the idea of walking away from a crying baby - even for a few minutes - was completely counter-intuitive to her maternal instincts.

However, the more we learned about the Ferber Method, the more it made sense to us. In holding Alex in our arms until he was completely asleep, we made it inevitable that he would be completely confused and disoriented any time he woke up in the crib. Who could blame him? I'd freak out too if I woke up someplace other than where I went to sleep.

While putting him down in his crib right before he went to sleep as Ferber recommends would definitely involve a crying jag of unknown length, we would be checking on him and reassuring him at gradually increasing intervals. This was not just letting him "cry it out."

Once we decided to try the Ferber Method, we decided to delay implementation for one more day so we could mentally prepare and be totally sure about it. Alex responded with another night of frequent wake-ups. Nevertheless, as Kate and I took turns trying to get him back to sleep, I felt a slight twinge of sadness knowing this phase of Alex's life was about to be phased out.

On Thursday, Kate put Alex to bed just as his eyelids got heavy and left the room. He immediately started crying. The crying intensified once he realized Kate wasn't coming right back in. Three minutes passed. Kate went in to comfort him without picking him up. The crying subsided momentarily, then picked up as she left the room. Six minutes passed. I went into the room, stroked his chest and told him everything was going to be all right. Then I left and the crying picked up again.

We girded ourselves for another 10 minutes of listening to Alex cry, but then his sobs started losing steam. Then they stopped altogether. After a minute or two, Kate peeked into his room. He was sound asleep. He woke up a couple of times during the night, but even without being rocked, neither wake-up was drawn out more than 10 minutes. This was bliss.

Alex hasn't woken up at all during the past two nights, which I believe is only the second or third time we've had two consecutive no-wake nights since his birth. When you consider all the crying Alex did by waking up every two hours, the total amount of sleep-related crying is a fraction of what it was.

The Ferber Method isn't for everyone. Some parents have strong philosophical objections to it and some babies don't respond to it. Moreover, we're going to have to re-Ferberize Alex every time something funky happens to his sleep schedule, but that's a small price to pay compared to what we were facing. As far as we're concerned, the good Dr. Ferber is a real American hero.

Just About a Mile from Texarkana

I’m in Texarkana, Tex. tonight. Texarkana is one of those towns that gets sung about a lot because it makes for a nice rhyme, as Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Cotton Fields," Crazy Elephant's "Gimme Gimme Good Lovin'" and Jerry Reed's "Eastbound and Down" can attest.

One thing that doesn't rhyme with Texarkana is syphilis. The Ark-La-Tex region has some of the higher syphilis rates in the country, so I'm here for a meeting with public health folks from the tri-state area to discuss coordination of prevention and messaging efforts across state lines.

I would’ve preferred to meet in Hot Springs, Ark. for the spring-fed baths or Shreveport, La. for the casino buffets, but our leash ends where Texas does. As far as I can tell, the primary extracurricular activity in Texarkana would be to have a photo taken on State Line Ave. with half my girth in Texas and the other in Arkansas. Having already done that in several obnoxious iterations over the years, I’m content to hit the hotel treadmill and watch the Cowboys try to soak up some Texas Rangers mojo on Monday Night Football.

Yup, just another crazy night of road-hogging in the name of public health.

Miles for Miles to Fight Diabetes

The Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation is holding its annual Walk to Cure Diabetes on Halloween. Kate, Alex and I will be walking - or strolling, in Alex's case - as proud members of Team Miles for Miles here in Austin.

The team is named for young Miles Wyatt, son of our good friends David and Rachel Wyatt. Last year, shortly before his 2nd birthday, Miles was diagnosed with Type 1 (or "juvenile") diabetes, an autoimmune disorder of the pancreas. Kate and I have watched with admiration at how the Wyatt family has responded to Miles' diagnosis, but we know it hasn't been easy for them.

Type 1 diabetes requires constant monitoring of carb intake, blood sugar levels and multiple insulin injections per day. In the past 11 months since his diagnosis, Miles already has endured over 3,500 finger pricks and 1,300 insulin injections. In addition to his rigorous blood testing and insulin shots, everything he consumes must be weighed and measured, and his blood levels need to be checked every couple of hours - even at 2 a.m. while he sleeps. Miles will be insulin-dependent for the rest of his life - or until there is a cure.

There are many devastating diseases people face in the world today. The difference with type 1 diabetes is that wiping it out of existence is extremely attainable and within reach. Researchers indicate that a cure could be available even before Miles goes to high school, helping him and countless others avoid the complications of heart and kidney disease, blindness, amputation, and early death that is a reality for many people with type 1 diabetes.

If you'd like to help Team Miles for Miles help raise funds for JDRF, you can make a donation here. All contributions are tax-deductible and every little bit makes a difference. Thanks for your consideration and support.

For My Skoal Brothers

Given my fealty for public health, I really shouldn't be posting a smokeless tobacco commercial. But for this awesome spot starring legendary UT/Houston Oilers running back Earl Campbell, I'm going to have to make an exception.



Maybe the Oilers never managed to beat the Steelers in the AFC Championship, but Earl's endorsement of Skoal has it all over Terry Bradshaw's commercial for Red Man.

True Colors Shining Through

Georgia Republican Rep. Paul Broun compared the health care reform bill to what most of us refer to as the Civil War on the House floor last night.

If Obamacare passes, that free insurance card that's in people's pockets is going to be as worthless as a Confederate dollar after the war between the states - the Great War of Yankee Aggression.



Yup, just another day at the office in White Whine Country.

Ebert on the Loss of Dining

Film critic Roger Ebert can no longer eat, drink or speak due to complications from thyroid cancer. He discusses his predicament with typical wit and eloquence in a blog entry from earlier this month. Interestingly, it's the dining, not the food, that he misses most.

Isn't it sad to be unable eat or drink? Not as sad as you might imagine. I save an enormous amount of time. I have control of my weight. Everything agrees with me. And so on.

What I miss is the society. Lunch and dinner are the two occasions when we most easily meet with friends and family. They're the first way we experience places far from home. Where we sit to regard the passing parade. How we learn indirectly of other cultures. When we feel good together. Meals are when we get a lot of our talking done -- probably most of our recreational talking. That's what I miss.

I don't think you can read this without getting a lump in your throat while cataloging the great meals of your life and being thankful for every last one of them.

As Warren Zevon once reminded us, "...enjoy every sandwich."

The other marriage penalty

The Oct. 2 New York Times ran an illuminating analysis that attempts to quantify the lifetime financial costs incurred by same-sex couples for living in a country that doesn't recognize their right to marry. Reporters Tara Siegel Bernard and Ron Lieber estimate gay couples could be paying anywhere from $28,595 to $211,993 more than financially similar straight couples.

Few will be surprised to learn that access to affordable health insurance is a big driver of this disparity. Most U.S. companies and governments - including the State of Texas - do not allow their employees to cover same-sex spouses as dependents under their group health plans. Even if a company offers domestic partner coverage, the federal tax code treats a same-sex partner's coverage as taxable income, so you can't use pretax dollars to pay the premiums.

Same-sex couples also get screwed on Social Security benefits, estate taxes, adoption costs, and pension plans that pay a survivor benefit to a heterosexual spouse but not a same-sex one. They cannot fund a non-working spouse's portion of a joint IRA and they wind up paying higher legal fees to codify rights that straight couples take for granted.

The one area where heterosexual couples might pay more is if both of them earn roughly the same amount, which could trigger the so-called "marriage penalty." However, this doesn't even come close to making up for all the ways our system cheats same-sex couples. Equal protection, anyone?

Marshall, Marshall, Marshall!

Greetings from behind the Pine Curtain. I'm in Bill Moyers' hometown of Marshall, Texas getting ready for a tri-state summit tomorrow to discuss ways of addressing syphilis in the Ark-La-Tex region.

There's no easy way to get to Marshall from Austin. We didn't get on the road until 3pm and the drive took about five and a half hours. We had middling Tex-Mex at a place called The Jalapeño Tree and had to join a "club" to drink beer. I'll have to add "Jalapeño Tree Club" to my résumé when I get home tomorrow night.

Elmo fights flu with PSAs

CNN reports that beloved Sesame Street character Elmo has joined the war against H1N1 flu. So has Gordon, but apparently he's no longer the stuff of sexy news pegs.

A previously developed PSA campaign encouraging kids to wash their hands and sneeze into their arm bends is being relaunched as part of the federal government's pandemic flu response. You can view the four TV spots at flu.gov. Now that Elmo is enlisted in the H1N1 battle and Cookie Monster is fighting obesity, I'm thinking Oscar would be a perfect spokesgrouch for a campaign against pubic lice.

"We are thrilled to partner with Elmo, Gordon, and Sesame Workshop again to emphasize the steps kids and their parents can take to stay happy and healthy this school year," says U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius in a prepared statement.

Man or Muppet, we bureaucrats are always "thrilled to partner."

Get well, Todd Wolfson

I've had the pleasure of collaborating with longtime music photographer Todd Wolfson on several occasions over the years.

He shot many of the bands I wrote about for the Chron and once endured an Friday night photo shoot of the Peenbeets clowning around at Denny's over a table of Moons Over My Hammy (or is it Moon Over My Hammys?). While that assignment was far from glamorous, Todd is equally revered for his breathtaking fashion photography. Regardless of his subject, Todd is a true Austin mensch whose passion is palpable in his work.

Earlier this month, Todd was in a bad bicycle accident. He hit a rough spot of pavement and flew over the handlebars, landing on his head and right elbow. His injuries were numerous, including a split right elbow joint and two compound fractures in his right arm.

Aside from being unable to work, Todd now faces a long rehabilitation and a sea of medical expenses. A benefit is forthcoming at Antone's on Sept. 9. In the meantime, you can make a donation here.

All of us here at Beetsolonely wish Todd a rapid recovery.

The Seeds' Sky Saxon hospitalized in Austin

Just got this alarming news about Sky Sunlight Saxon from music publicist Cary Baker at Conqueroo. Here's hoping the newly minted Austinite makes a quick and full recovery.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
June 25, 2009

THE SEEDS’ SKY SUNLIGHT SAXON IN THE HOSPITAL IN CRITICAL CONDITION IN AUSTIN, TX

AUSTIN, Texas — Early Monday, June 22, 2009, Sky Sunlight Saxon of garage rock legends the Seeds was hospitalized in South Austin, Texas due to an undiagnosed condition. He remains in critical condition in the ICU at this date in St. David’s South Austin Hospital. Doctors suspect an infection of the internal organs; further tests are pending upon stabilization. Temporary dialysis of the kidneys will begin in the next few days.

Sky Sunlight Saxon fell ill last Thursday in his new home of Austin. Despite feeling under the weather, on Saturday he performed a short set of Seeds classics at the local legendary nightclub Antone’s.

Sky’s wife Sabrina Saxon encourages fans and friends worldwide to send cards and balloons of encouragement, love and support to Sky at his room in the ICU. No flowers are allowed in this facility, but cards and balloons are welcome. It is Sabrina’s wish to create a visual illustration of the positive healing vibes that are being generated for the much beloved musician in full support of his recovery.

Please send cards and balloons to:

St David’s South Austin Hospital
901 West Ben White Boulevard
ICU-10 (Richard Marsh)
Austin, Texas 78704

(Note: Sky Saxon’s legal name is Richard Marsh)

For whom the stool tolls

The hours leading up to last Saturday's Stool Pigeon show at ColdTowne Theater had me on tenterhooks. I'm accustomed to being onstage, but not without a band of compatriots bearing amplification devices. As showtime approached, I became hyper-aware of every verbal tic and wished I'd given more consideration to debate as an elective in high school.

Fortunately, the evening's improv players really put my mind at ease. Before going out, everyone literally told me they had my back. It was a simple enough acknowledgment, but it made a big difference.

I ran through my three true-life stories quicker than I expected, but I didn't get mired in any narrative cul-de-sacs, which was good. Then the laser-witted Stool Pigeon crew extrapolated all kinds of crazy-funny tangents from some of my favorite embarrassing actualities.

Nearly 25 years after the fact, I can now say it was totally worth it when I stepped in a pile of livestock shit on Ag Day and got it all over the back of my jeans while kneeling down to perform CPR on the Resuscitation Annie doll during health class. Thanks, Stool Pigeon!

Greetings from the Golden Triangle

I took a day trip to Beaumont yesterday to meet with local public health stakeholders and discuss ways of responding to an increase in the number of syphilis cases there.

There's no easy way to get to the "Golden Triangle" from Austin. You can't fly direct and driving straight through often means being delayed by Houston traffic. I split the difference by flying Southwest to Hobby Airport and driving the rest of the way with staff from our regional office in Houston.

On final approach into Hobby, I noticed every fourth or fifth house still had a blue tarp covering roof damage from Hurricane Ike. Beaumont was still recovering from Hurricane Rita when Ike showed up, so blue tarps are pretty ubiquitous there, too. Aside from insurance delays and fly-by-night contractors, I imagine a lot of families in Southeast Texas have more pressing needs than a hole in the roof right now.

The other thing I noticed was the piss-poor condition of IH-10 between Houston and Beaumont. Between road construction and the claustrophobic four-lane Trinity River bridge, it may be the single scariest stretch of highway in the state right now.

Down with the sickness

Kate and I have been holed up at home for the past two days with a nasty stomach bug. I'll spare you the graphic details, other than to say I've never been happier to live in a house with two bathrooms.

Thankfully, the bug appears to be on a slow wane at this point. Unless the city is paralyzed by icy roads, I expect we'll both be back on the chain gang tomorrow morning.

This is the first time I've ever been laid out concurrently with someone else. Kate quipped that we were morphing into the bedridden grandparents in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Despite feeling rotten, it's been kind of nice to muddle through this alongside her. Maybe there's something to that "sickness and health" thing.

As the stomach turns

I accidentally made my wife throw up for the first time Friday night.

We were having pints at Dog & Duck as we often do, but Kate had given blood earlier in the day and never had time to eat a full lunch. As such, she was both tired and hungry, so we ordered a plate of nachos.

Just as we dug in, I decided to recount a somewhat disgusting yet noteworthy incident from the workday. Shortly after I'd arrived at the office Friday morning, my colleague Jean walked over to my cube and asked he to look inside her coffee mug. I peered in and saw the corpse of a large cockroach floating in a sea of cold coffee. It was pretty gross, but at least it enlivened the morning.

As regular readers of Kate's blog know, she cannot stand cockroaches. They freak her right the flip out. Having grown up in New England, she never had to come to terms with cockroaches as big as Hyundais crawling across her pillow as I did while growing up in Houston. Seeing one of those for the first time as an adult is bound to be traumatic, especially if you have a proclivity toward cleanliness and order.

That said, I didn't expect merely relating the café au cucaracha saga would do anything but give Kate a fleeting case of willies. As it was, she bolted up from the table and ran toward the ladies room. Fortunately for everyone, there was no line. I'd literally made my wife sick.

When she got back to the table, I apologized profusely. It is to Kate's eternal credit that she was able to laugh about it.

Any way you spin it, though, I'm now saddled with some seriously negative vomit karma.

Kiehl's lands at Blue Elephant

As a big fan of Kiehl's Ultimate Brushless "White Eagle" Shaving Cream, I was happy to discover that Blue Elephant is now stocking Kiehl's products. Blue Elephant is located at 4001 N. Lamar, in the same shopping center as Central Market.

I feel a little ridiculous spending $15 on a tube of shaving cream when I used to be perfectly content with 99-cent cans of Barbasol, but I hardly ever nick up my face with Kiehl's. I'm also pretty stingy when it comes to portion control. A Kiehl's tube can last for several months because a little dab really will do you.

Coupled with a strategic grocery run, getting your Kiehl's stuff at Blue Elephant could save Central Austin shaving snobs a trip to Nordstrom at Barton Creek Square, Neiman-Marcus at the Domain or our silly little Saks Fifth Avenue out by the Arboretum.