Great podcast episode: The Blue Yarn, by 99% Invisible

I was so intrigued by this episode of a lovely little design podcast I've been listening to. The episode was about how economic difficulties forced a redesign of a hospital and the outcome was wonderbunk for the patients.

You can listen to the 10-min ep here: http://soundcloud.com/roman-mars/99-invisible-30-the-blue-yarn

"In 1998 Dr. Gary Kaplan, the CEO of Virginia Mason Medical Center in Seattle received some bad news about his hospital. It was losing money. So Dr. Kaplan started studying how other hospitals were being run to see if there was a better way to manage his hospital. He scoured the country, looking for a hospital with a management system worth adopting, but he never found one. Instead he ended up in Japan. At a Toyota factory.
When Dr. Kaplan told his staff they would be changing everything about the way they operate and the changes were based on a car company and that doctors and nurses should refer to their new teachers as “sensei,” the response was less than ideal.
This entire, multiyear overhaul started with a ball of blue yarn. The staff met with a Toyota Production System sensei and he took out the ball of blue yarn and a map of the hospital and told the staff to trace the path a cancer patient would take on a typical visit for chemotherapy treatment. When they were finished, it was an immensely powerful visual experience for everyone in the room. They all stared at this map with blue yarn snaking all over the place, doubling back on itself and making complicated twists and turns from one end of the building to the other. They understood for the first time that they were taking their sickest patients, for whom time was their most precious resource, and they were wasting huge amounts of it."

(Bold emphasis mine.) 

The podcast is called 99% Invisible, by Roman Mars, who describes it as: "A tiny radio show about design, architecture & the 99% invisible activity that shapes our world." I highly recommend.

To subscribe: http://99percentinvisible.org/

For other poddies I've recommended in the past, see a previous post here.

Doctors and iPhones

I've consulted two cardiologists this year and I can tell you the riveting news that iPhones are the must-have accessory for the dashing doctor about town.

Cardiologist 1: 

Used an iPhone to take constant calls from the receptionists. Constant! While skilled at answering the phone, it bears mentioning that C1 was unable to take my blood pressure manually. I was tempted to joke there is probably an app for that - instead I assuaged his ego by telling him everyone has trouble with it - a lie.

C1 told me that although my TTT results were dreadful and he was very sorry about my quality of life, there was nothing further he could do for me and maybe one day I'd be strong enough to find a job where I could lie down a lot - like a librarian. I've never seen a librarian lying down, have you? What. Is. He. ON?!

I can think of a job where people lie down, amongst other things, but the oldest profession is not for moi. Nobody could afford this hot bod. 

Cardiologist 2: 

C2 is proactive and knowledgeable and keen to proceed with treatment. I'm learning lots from him. Refreshing.

Used his iPhone (is there a MIMS app?) to read out the list of side-effects of a medication I will try sometime next year. When he got to the side-effect of 'hair standing on end', he mimed what this may look like in real life by waggling his fingers vigorously.

I like C2, even if the bureaucratic burden of obtaining the new med is onerous. In March he suggested I try it, my application to the TGA didn't go through until July, and I'm still waiting for approval! Then it has to be imported from America. Not holding my breath. 

Specialist 3 (field of medicine withheld to protect the goose): 

Ran very late. I joked to my husband that he was probably looking up POTS and NMH on the internet. I was tickled to be right! He had printed the info and highlighted the important bits in yellow. Things like: do not get overheated, stay hydrated, avoid heavy meals, eat a high salt diet, wear compression garments, don't stand still on the spot, be careful bending - the standard lifestyle tips for that cluster of conditions. After living with both diagnoses a goodly while and already deploying those tips to little avail, those expensive bits of paper were underwhelming.

He's also a hypocrite: he told me at the previous appointment not to look anything up on the internet (he's ancient, his net-savvy patients must drive him wild). Then he based his whole appointment on the internet. The same internet I have at home. He may suspect me of cyberchondria, but I don't have enough time for that malarkey, I'm too busy pillorying him on my blog!

I prescribe him an iPhone. Then he could forbid his patients from using theirs. And play Solitaire! As a person newly emerged into the world of smart phones, it's amazing how nifty they are. I see what the rest of the world is on about.

Better late than never...

I'm in the process of switching computers and keep finding unpublished drafts, which I'm popping up on their correct date as I come across them. They're tagged 'better late than never' - so if you get some random updates over the next little while, that's why.

Here's an orange poppy from the weekend, my friend gave me a punnet of seedlings in the middle of winter. They were planted outside my bedroom window and I've been watching the buds. The weather's been a bit wild as they start to unfurl, which provides a great excuse to cut each one for inside, to be gazed upon tenderly. I'd love a snooze on those petals. Oh, to be Thumbelina.

an orange and black wasp

We had a long, hot summer of incessant rain. La Niña after a decade of El Niño. Someone told me we'd had only 14 days with no rain between October and April. Whether that is precisely accurate I don't know, but it sure felt like it.

Autumn is finally here, the cooler days are blissful. The last few days the sun's been shining. I hope it stays. I have been spending some time on my favourite piece of furniture, the Cadillac Couch, bought for me by my dear friend at her local St Vinnies. I think it's possibly what you call a klik klak couch, circa 1950s. It's bluey-green vinyl with white arms like resplendent wings. You can fold the back down to make a bed, but we have set it up as a long couch on the back patio.

I use it for drinking tea, staring at our 18-month-old garden and feeling vexed at not being able to just move that plant to the left and wondering when the fundamentals of garden design will coalesce in my brain, watching ants scurry about, feeling annoyed at healthy people (my new hobby), enjoying Mr and Mrs Magpie and their two grey babies strolling and pecking at the ground, and assessing the solitary orange and black wasp persistently hovering close by.

At first I was alarmed, the wasp looks dangerous: an inch long, stridently coloured, magnificently pointy bottom. It hangs about close to the ground and I worry I'll step on it. I looked it up and it's harmless, doesn't sting, and the reason it's close to the ground is because it's gathering mud to daub into a home. Several such homes have been attempted underneath the cushions on the Cadillac Couch. I always check them before settling in.

legs eleven

outrageously good legs

in front of me in the check-out

queue at Bunnings

the embodiment of every cliché you ever heard

about legs

tanned, strong, carelessly perfect

I was captivated

I thought about the beach, about running

in sand

the pressure of the accelerator pedal beneath my right foot

about stairs and trampolines

and

really

it must be heaven

~

 

This is a quick response to a one-word suggestion (‘poetry’ – which had me stumped for a bit, I can’t remember the last time I wrote a poem) from a mystery person (thanks!) on my new formspring page. There’s a form in the sidebar on the right if you’d like to play.

Happy new year!

May your sparklers be long-lasting and your resolutions frivolous. Sending intergalactic good wishes for 2011. Onwards and upwards!

x

Overheard

“When I went back to see mum last time, she'd finally got rid of her fur coat. It was Russian black bear. She's had it ever since they came to Australia.”

Stickers

We’ve decided to leave all our instructional labels on everything here for the next tenants. LOUNGE LIGHT SWITCH, KITCHEN LIGHT SWITCH, BATHROOM LIGHT SWITCH, TO OPEN BALCONY DOOR MOVE LATCH TO RIGHT. They’ll love it.

Dear black ants,

I have noted that you enjoy:

• eating craft glue under the daybed
• swimming in the water filter
• eating Temazepam
• walking on my forehead

It would be nice if you desisted from these behaviours.

There is 70% dark chocolate on the top shelf in the pantry, I can’t believe you’re not nibbling that. If you can carry it, please bring me a piece.

Warm regards.

Tilting

Our sweet neighbour turned 89 last week. He and his wife are lovely. Every time we’ve seen him recently he's reminded us, "I'm going to be 89!" He's so thrilled about it. I love the way oldies are proud of their age, like small children. It’s inspiring, and makes me wonder why we all get so het up about getting older in our middle years. He's planning to make it to 99. Good on him. I hope he does. In my mind there’s a sense of solidarity between he and I - we are frequently in our gardens in dressing gowns and slippers, and it’s comforting to see someone else wandering around with dodgy balance receptors - I'm always doing windmill arms.