June 01, 2017
The tall and short of it
Height is a genetic puzzle. For the males in my family, averaging was the result, not Mendelian selection: shorter than the tall parent, taller than the short parent. Then there are tall/short combinations that produce tall offspring and tall parents who produce taller children.
Average height in Japan over the past century demonstrates the importance of environmental factors. And having leveled off since 1960, the importance of genetics, though Yankees pitcher Masahiro Tanaka (6' 3") and Anne Watanabe (5' 9") handily beat regression to the mean.
Once a country climbs high enough up Maslow's hierarchy, genes do up to 80 percent of the heavy lifting (so say the geneticists). Over 423 genetic regions are connected to height and they mix and match in ways that are hard to predict.
Scientists like to study identical and fraternal twins to tease such things out. I would recommend studying haafu: the offspring of a Japanese parent and not-Japanese (non-Asian) parent.
There's an analogy here to how "Japanese" the child appears. Masao Kusakari, for example, regularly plays Japanese characters in NHK historical dramas. But I wouldn't have otherwise guessed that Risa Stegmayer has a Japanese mother (other than her speaking fluent Japanese).
My theory is that "averaging" kicks in when similarly functioning genes are mirrored at the same loci on both chromosomes in the pair. But if there's a null set on one of the chromosomes, the height genes take over.
Masao Kusakari is six feet tall (his father was an American GI killed during the Korean War), way above average for a Japanese born in 1950. Rangers pitcher Yu Darvish (Iranian father) is a towering six-feet-five.
But the award for comedic contrast goes to Jun Soejima, a presenter on Asa-Ichi, NHK's morning chat show. He hosts the Sugowaza Q (スゴ技Ｑ) segment with Yumiko Udou, a Japanese woman of average height.
Jun Soejima (American father, Japanese mother) is six-foot-five. Wikipedia adds that his Afro adds eight inches, and also says that he traveled abroad only last year and doesn't speak English. In other words, height aside, a typical Japanese (yes, he played basketball in college).
Sugowaza Q translates roughly as "Super Skills IQ," about smarter ways to do common household activities like cooking.
Average height in Japan over the past century demonstrates the importance of environmental factors. And having leveled off since 1960, the importance of genetics, though Yankees pitcher Masahiro Tanaka (6' 3") and Anne Watanabe (5' 9") handily beat regression to the mean.
Once a country climbs high enough up Maslow's hierarchy, genes do up to 80 percent of the heavy lifting (so say the geneticists). Over 423 genetic regions are connected to height and they mix and match in ways that are hard to predict.
Scientists like to study identical and fraternal twins to tease such things out. I would recommend studying haafu: the offspring of a Japanese parent and not-Japanese (non-Asian) parent.
There's an analogy here to how "Japanese" the child appears. Masao Kusakari, for example, regularly plays Japanese characters in NHK historical dramas. But I wouldn't have otherwise guessed that Risa Stegmayer has a Japanese mother (other than her speaking fluent Japanese).
My theory is that "averaging" kicks in when similarly functioning genes are mirrored at the same loci on both chromosomes in the pair. But if there's a null set on one of the chromosomes, the height genes take over.
Masao Kusakari is six feet tall (his father was an American GI killed during the Korean War), way above average for a Japanese born in 1950. Rangers pitcher Yu Darvish (Iranian father) is a towering six-feet-five.
But the award for comedic contrast goes to Jun Soejima, a presenter on Asa-Ichi, NHK's morning chat show. He hosts the Sugowaza Q (スゴ技Ｑ) segment with Yumiko Udou, a Japanese woman of average height.
Jun Soejima (American father, Japanese mother) is six-foot-five. Wikipedia adds that his Afro adds eight inches, and also says that he traveled abroad only last year and doesn't speak English. In other words, height aside, a typical Japanese (yes, he played basketball in college).
Sugowaza Q translates roughly as "Super Skills IQ," about smarter ways to do common household activities like cooking.
Labels: japanese tv, medicine, nhk, science, social studies, sports
October 20, 2016
Thank you for not smoking (so much)
If you're a consumer of manga and anime, you will have noticed that Japanese smoke a lot, even in series aimed at kids (a big no-no in the U.S.) Why all the smokers? Because it accurately reflects real life in Japan. (There are cinematic reasons too.)
The highest per-capita smoking rates in the world are in Eastern Europe. The most enthusiastic smokers outside Eastern Europe are South Koreans, Kazakhs, and Japanese (with the U.S. in the middle of the pack). Japanese men, that is.
Everybody in Japan knows that smoking is bad for you. But it's practically a cultural institution. The situation has improved significantly since I first lived in Japan 35 years ago, when every public space was a scene straight out of a Hollywood classic.
People actually pay attention to "No Smoking" signs now. Still, several factors have for a long time slowed the eradication of smoking as acceptable public behavior.
Until 1985 the tobacco industry in Japan was a government-run monopoly, putting the government in the self-defeating position of profiting from smoking at the same time it was supposed to be discouraging it (see also: state lotteries).
Strangely enough, for an equally long time the Japanese government has had less reason to worry about the public health implications: it's called the "Japanese smoking/lung cancer paradox."
Smokers in the U.S. have an increased lung cancer "odds ratio" of 40:1 (a long-term mortality rate of 30.4/100,000). In Japan it's only 6:1 (a long-term mortality rate of 17.4/100,000). That makes "smoking kills" a less compelling argument.
Many reasons have been hypothesized. As always, it comes down to environment (including diet) and genetics. The stomach cancer mortality rate in Japan is 13/100,000. In the U.S. it is 2/100,000. Different things kill different people differently.
Then again, within the firm social constraints of Japanese society thrives a broad streak of leave-me-alone libertarianism. The moral crusades that so stir our Victorian sensibilities rarely excite the same passions in Japan.
Certainly not to the extent of pretending in popular entertainment that people don't smoke as much as they really do.
But like I said, the situation is steadily improving. As in every post-industrial society, a graying population teaches the grave lesson that nobody lives forever. And so the mass media has become hugely focused on personal health issues.
Darwin wins in the end. This bad behavior will inevitably change the one sure way it always does: the smokers will all die out.
The highest per-capita smoking rates in the world are in Eastern Europe. The most enthusiastic smokers outside Eastern Europe are South Koreans, Kazakhs, and Japanese (with the U.S. in the middle of the pack). Japanese men, that is.
Everybody in Japan knows that smoking is bad for you. But it's practically a cultural institution. The situation has improved significantly since I first lived in Japan 35 years ago, when every public space was a scene straight out of a Hollywood classic.
 |
| Back when smoking was cool. |
People actually pay attention to "No Smoking" signs now. Still, several factors have for a long time slowed the eradication of smoking as acceptable public behavior.
 |
| No longer just a "suggestion." |
Until 1985 the tobacco industry in Japan was a government-run monopoly, putting the government in the self-defeating position of profiting from smoking at the same time it was supposed to be discouraging it (see also: state lotteries).
Strangely enough, for an equally long time the Japanese government has had less reason to worry about the public health implications: it's called the "Japanese smoking/lung cancer paradox."
Smokers in the U.S. have an increased lung cancer "odds ratio" of 40:1 (a long-term mortality rate of 30.4/100,000). In Japan it's only 6:1 (a long-term mortality rate of 17.4/100,000). That makes "smoking kills" a less compelling argument.
Many reasons have been hypothesized. As always, it comes down to environment (including diet) and genetics. The stomach cancer mortality rate in Japan is 13/100,000. In the U.S. it is 2/100,000. Different things kill different people differently.
Then again, within the firm social constraints of Japanese society thrives a broad streak of leave-me-alone libertarianism. The moral crusades that so stir our Victorian sensibilities rarely excite the same passions in Japan.
Certainly not to the extent of pretending in popular entertainment that people don't smoke as much as they really do.
But like I said, the situation is steadily improving. As in every post-industrial society, a graying population teaches the grave lesson that nobody lives forever. And so the mass media has become hugely focused on personal health issues.
Darwin wins in the end. This bad behavior will inevitably change the one sure way it always does: the smokers will all die out.
Labels: japan, japanese culture, medicine, politics, pop culture, science, social studies
October 06, 2014
Let them eat Cheerios
In the universe of The Twelve Kingdoms, Japan and China exist in a parallel dimension that can only be accessed by wizards and kirin ("were-unicorn"), using a kind of (destructive) wormhole called a shoku. From the prologue to Poseidon of the East:
In Shadow of the Moon, Rakushun articulates the substance of the legends:
Actually, Rakushun is onto something here.
Farmers in any developed nation today live longer and better than medieval kings. Vaccinations, antibiotics, and water chlorination can defeat invisible demons once responsible for a 30 percent childhood mortality rate. You can fly from Seattle to Tokyo in 10 hours.
In 1866, Tokugawa Iemochi, the second-to-last shogun, died of heart failure at the age of twenty, presumably due to beriberi. Considering that the third-to-last shogun went bonkers and died at the age of 34, two centuries of inbreeding was probably taking its toll too.
In any case, beriberi is a disease brought on by vitamin B1 deficiency. Thanks to enriched flour, beriberi is almost nonexistent in developed countries today. A bowl of Cheerios a couple of times a month could have prevented it (and many other diseases).
The shogun was done in by a diet of polished white rice the poor couldn't afford. In the time travel series Jin, Dr. Jin Minakata invents yam donuts to save an old lady who won't eat anything but white rice because, you know, she's not poor anymore!
At the ends of the earth was an ocean called the Kyokai, the "Sea of Nothingness."
Two realms sat at the borders of its eastern and western reaches. Although normally cut off from each other, with no communication or commerce passing between them, the same legend had arisen in each--of a land of dreams far across the horizon.
Only a chosen few could visit that blessed and fertile place, where riches gushed forth like fountains, whose people, free from pain and suffering, neither grew old nor died.
In Shadow of the Moon, Rakushun articulates the substance of the legends:
"It's said that the people of [Japan and China] live in houses made of gold and silver, studded with jewels. Their kingdoms are so wealthy that farmers live like kings. They gallop through the air and can run a thousand miles in a single day. Even babies have the power to defeat youma [monsters]."
Rakushun looked at Youko expectantly.
Youko shook her head with a rueful smile. What a strange conversation this was. If she ever returned to her old world, nobody would believe her. Fairy tales, they'd say. And here, her world was a fairy tale as well. She laughed to herself. She'd believed all along that this was the strange and mysterious world. But in the end, wasn't she and the place she came from all the more so?
Actually, Rakushun is onto something here.
Farmers in any developed nation today live longer and better than medieval kings. Vaccinations, antibiotics, and water chlorination can defeat invisible demons once responsible for a 30 percent childhood mortality rate. You can fly from Seattle to Tokyo in 10 hours.
In 1866, Tokugawa Iemochi, the second-to-last shogun, died of heart failure at the age of twenty, presumably due to beriberi. Considering that the third-to-last shogun went bonkers and died at the age of 34, two centuries of inbreeding was probably taking its toll too.
In any case, beriberi is a disease brought on by vitamin B1 deficiency. Thanks to enriched flour, beriberi is almost nonexistent in developed countries today. A bowl of Cheerios a couple of times a month could have prevented it (and many other diseases).
The shogun was done in by a diet of polished white rice the poor couldn't afford. In the time travel series Jin, Dr. Jin Minakata invents yam donuts to save an old lady who won't eat anything but white rice because, you know, she's not poor anymore!
Labels: 12 kingdoms, history, japan, medicine
October 15, 2012
Little big gulp
NHK recently did a bit on Good Morning Japan about Bloomberg's campaign to limit the size of soft drinks. They started by comparing the small/
A "small" size in the U.S. is the same as a "large" size in Japan. On a per-capita basis, Americans consume three times as much sugar per year as the average Japanese.
While the libertarian in me is appalled at Bloomberg's inexhaustible enthusiasm for nanny state government interference, at least he's focused on the right target this time. The problem with the American diet isn't fat, but sugar.
An entertaining examination of the many reasons why can be found in Fat Head, Tom Naughton's witty and self-deprecating response to Super Size Me.
Chowing down nothing but on fatty fast food for a month while strictly limiting carbohydrate consumption, Naughton lost weight, his total cholesterol went down, and his HDL went up.
These results impressed him (and his skeptical family physician) so much that the next month he consumed no carbohydrates (i.e., the full Adkins) and got the same results.
As Tom Naughton points out (and Gary Taubes explores at great length), the modern "food pyramid," emphasizing the consumption of grains and processed carbohydrates, was largely the product of a farm state senator, George McGovern.
That's the problem with the nanny state. It can be massively wrong, steer the ship of state into an iceberg, and not only never admit it but double down on the proposition. It's the government. It makes the rules. The gambler owns the casino.
Or as King Henry sums up the Bloombergean philosophy of benevolent dictatorship:
A "small" size in the U.S. is the same as a "large" size in Japan. On a per-capita basis, Americans consume three times as much sugar per year as the average Japanese.
While the libertarian in me is appalled at Bloomberg's inexhaustible enthusiasm for nanny state government interference, at least he's focused on the right target this time. The problem with the American diet isn't fat, but sugar.
An entertaining examination of the many reasons why can be found in Fat Head, Tom Naughton's witty and self-deprecating response to Super Size Me.
Chowing down nothing but on fatty fast food for a month while strictly limiting carbohydrate consumption, Naughton lost weight, his total cholesterol went down, and his HDL went up.
These results impressed him (and his skeptical family physician) so much that the next month he consumed no carbohydrates (i.e., the full Adkins) and got the same results.
As Tom Naughton points out (and Gary Taubes explores at great length), the modern "food pyramid," emphasizing the consumption of grains and processed carbohydrates, was largely the product of a farm state senator, George McGovern.
That's the problem with the nanny state. It can be massively wrong, steer the ship of state into an iceberg, and not only never admit it but double down on the proposition. It's the government. It makes the rules. The gambler owns the casino.
Or as King Henry sums up the Bloombergean philosophy of benevolent dictatorship:
You and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion [or constitution]: we are the makers of manners.
Labels: food, good morning japan, medicine, movie reviews, politics
September 13, 2012
Japan in the time of cholera
From the mid-19th century to the early 20th, Japan experienced cholera epidemics on the scale of the 1918 flu pandemic. Controls on internal migration during the Edo period vanished after the Meiji Restoration. The ancient sewers couldn't handle the exploding urban populations.
(The Ansei epidemic figures prominently in the time travel series Jin, as our valiant doctor from the future battles the outbreak with 21st century knowledge and 19th century resources.)
In a perverse irony, the situation was worsened by endemic beri-beri, which came on the heels of dietary "improvements" (increased production and consumption of polished white rice), though the recurring famines of the past two centuries ceased.
(Dr. Jin Minakata invents the thiamine-enriched doughnut to address that problem.)
Japan's sudden opening to the west also meant that "foreign" pathogens were being introduced into the population at a velocity the Japan had never experienced before. Its last contact with Europe in the 16th century was a trickle by comparison.
But it was a foreigner who came to the rescue. I've heard Japanese unironically compare the British engineer W. K. Burton, who designed Tokyo's first modern sewer system, to Jesus.
Japan now boasts one of the healthiest populations on the planet. In the long term, I think the speed and extent of international travel has actually reduced the odds of a 1918 flu epidemic happening today.
As Matt Ridley points out in Wired Magazine, apocalyptic epidemics now have the habit of evaporating like desert mirages. There aren't any truly "virgin" populations left for viruses to work their havoc on. The mills of Darwinian selection grind slowly but inexorably.
Japan suffered at least seven major outbreaks of cholera between 1858 and 1902. The Ansei outbreak of 1858-60, for example, is believed to have killed between 100,000 and 200,000 people in Tokyo alone.
(The Ansei epidemic figures prominently in the time travel series Jin, as our valiant doctor from the future battles the outbreak with 21st century knowledge and 19th century resources.)
In a perverse irony, the situation was worsened by endemic beri-beri, which came on the heels of dietary "improvements" (increased production and consumption of polished white rice), though the recurring famines of the past two centuries ceased.
(Dr. Jin Minakata invents the thiamine-enriched doughnut to address that problem.)
Japan's sudden opening to the west also meant that "foreign" pathogens were being introduced into the population at a velocity the Japan had never experienced before. Its last contact with Europe in the 16th century was a trickle by comparison.
But it was a foreigner who came to the rescue. I've heard Japanese unironically compare the British engineer W. K. Burton, who designed Tokyo's first modern sewer system, to Jesus.
Japan now boasts one of the healthiest populations on the planet. In the long term, I think the speed and extent of international travel has actually reduced the odds of a 1918 flu epidemic happening today.
As Matt Ridley points out in Wired Magazine, apocalyptic epidemics now have the habit of evaporating like desert mirages. There aren't any truly "virgin" populations left for viruses to work their havoc on. The mills of Darwinian selection grind slowly but inexorably.
Labels: history, japan, medicine, technology
July 28, 2011
The God complex
Tim Hartford succinctly sums up the scientific process (not the cargo cult it has become of late), and what intellectual exploration is actually all about. Perhaps his most important point is that we live in a world where even the most basic social and economic interactions are too complex for any "great man" (or bunch of self-styled great men) to comprehend. So a little awe and humility is in order.
Related posts
"Pathological" and real science
Scotch tape X-rays
Labels: deep thoughts, medicine, science, social studies
July 07, 2010
The Medicator (they'll be back!)
Only three out of 254 foreign applicants passed Japan's national nursing exam this year. In 2009, 15,382 nurses from the Philippines alone took the U.S. exam. The language barrier in Japan may prove an insurmountable problem. Hence the desire for "nurses" that can be put together on an assembly line. Marketwatch reports that
But Atlanta-based GeckoSystems boasts that it is getting much love from Japan and China because it is
Based on what I've seen so far, be prepared to be totally underwhelmed. Frankly, I think a medical translation system would be a more achievable goal. I can't help thinking of two already-proposed "solutions."
In Ghost in the Shell: Solid State Society, the computer running the Medicare system comes up with an ingenious solution to the problem (pretty much the opposite of Soylent Green), and then goes all HAL 9000 on anybody who gets in the way.
Though the whole concept of an "Elder Care Robot" sounds eerily like the one satirized in Roujin Z. The movie was released way back in 1991, making it all the more prescient.
My brother points out that this really isn't about language. A foreign nurse who would even attempt to take the qualifying exam will likely speak and understand Japanese better than any robot ever will.
It's not as bad as the silly business about Japanese not being able to eat American-grown rice back in the 1980s, but there is clearly regulatory capture going on.
The examination system in Japan long ago devolved into a tortuous sorting machine, not an evaluation of thinking ability. The Japanese equivalent of Stand and Deliver focuses more about test-taking strategies than mastering a complex subject like calculus.
For every ministry (and the industry group backing it) that wants A, another ministry and industry group wants B. But rather than debating it and committing to a single course, group B "graciously" concedes A, then renders A meaningless with gatekeeping strategy C.
Like passing a law and then "forgetting" to fund it.
In this case, all B has to do is nobly insist on the "same standards for everybody." The examination system (credentialism run amok) is Japan's "third rail," a prisoner's dilemma writ large, that everybody knows is hopelessly flawed but the entire society is hopelessly wedded to.
The Japanese government has spent one hundred million dollars in grants [to Japanese firms] over the last [decade] to develop personal robots for their own eldercare crisis, yet no viable solutions have been developed by them to date.
But Atlanta-based GeckoSystems boasts that it is getting much love from Japan and China because it is
a dynamic leader in the emerging mobile robotics industry revolutionizing their development and usage with "Mobile Robot Solutions for Safety, Security and Service."
Based on what I've seen so far, be prepared to be totally underwhelmed. Frankly, I think a medical translation system would be a more achievable goal. I can't help thinking of two already-proposed "solutions."
Though the whole concept of an "Elder Care Robot" sounds eerily like the one satirized in Roujin Z. The movie was released way back in 1991, making it all the more prescient.
My brother points out that this really isn't about language. A foreign nurse who would even attempt to take the qualifying exam will likely speak and understand Japanese better than any robot ever will.
It's not as bad as the silly business about Japanese not being able to eat American-grown rice back in the 1980s, but there is clearly regulatory capture going on.
The examination system in Japan long ago devolved into a tortuous sorting machine, not an evaluation of thinking ability. The Japanese equivalent of Stand and Deliver focuses more about test-taking strategies than mastering a complex subject like calculus.
For every ministry (and the industry group backing it) that wants A, another ministry and industry group wants B. But rather than debating it and committing to a single course, group B "graciously" concedes A, then renders A meaningless with gatekeeping strategy C.
Like passing a law and then "forgetting" to fund it.
In this case, all B has to do is nobly insist on the "same standards for everybody." The examination system (credentialism run amok) is Japan's "third rail," a prisoner's dilemma writ large, that everybody knows is hopelessly flawed but the entire society is hopelessly wedded to.
Labels: business, ghost in the shell, japan, medicine, politics, robots, science
March 04, 2010
Cancer and statistics
If you recall the rekindled controversy about cancer screening a few months back, here is a detailed explanation about why the issue is a lot more complex and counterintuitive than the sound-bite reports or staged debates between lobbyists make it out to be.
As Dr. Kramer vividly illustrates, the statistical tools used to evaluated the "success" of screening methodologies are extremely susceptible to unintended manipulation. The greater ability to detect health problems often does not correlate with a greater ability to decrease mortality.
Thus the results of screening can be as harmful as they are well-intentioned. This Wednesday (3/3/2010), the American Cancer Society followed exactly the advice Dr. Kramer gives (11/25/2008), saying that "Routine [prostrate] screening isn't recommended for most men."
This again affirms my belief that in high school math classes, teaching statistics should take precedence over teaching anything beyond basic arithmetic. Related thoughts here by Car Talk guy (and MIT grad) Tom Magliozzi.
As Dr. Kramer vividly illustrates, the statistical tools used to evaluated the "success" of screening methodologies are extremely susceptible to unintended manipulation. The greater ability to detect health problems often does not correlate with a greater ability to decrease mortality.
Thus the results of screening can be as harmful as they are well-intentioned. This Wednesday (3/3/2010), the American Cancer Society followed exactly the advice Dr. Kramer gives (11/25/2008), saying that "Routine [prostrate] screening isn't recommended for most men."
This again affirms my belief that in high school math classes, teaching statistics should take precedence over teaching anything beyond basic arithmetic. Related thoughts here by Car Talk guy (and MIT grad) Tom Magliozzi.
November 27, 2009
Tokyo Vice
An interview on Fresh Air with Jake Adelstein, author of Tokyo Vice: An American Reporter on the Police Beat in Japan.
I'm reminded of the old joke that Japanese law enforcement condones organized crime because it so dislikes disorganized crime. Adelstein says it's no joke. While it's tempting to praise Japan's overt lack of litigiousness, human nature is what it is. And the yakuza, going semi-legit, have stepped in to supply those missing tort services, though with brass knuckles instead of lawsuits.
This may explain why vigilante justice plots remain so popular in Japanese entertainment.
Jake Adelstein broke the story (covered on 60 Minutes) about how yakuza oyabun Tadamasa Goto and three mob flunkies conned the FBI and bribed the UCLA Medical Center to provide them liver transplants.
I'm reminded of the old joke that Japanese law enforcement condones organized crime because it so dislikes disorganized crime. Adelstein says it's no joke. While it's tempting to praise Japan's overt lack of litigiousness, human nature is what it is. And the yakuza, going semi-legit, have stepped in to supply those missing tort services, though with brass knuckles instead of lawsuits.
This may explain why vigilante justice plots remain so popular in Japanese entertainment.
Jake Adelstein broke the story (covered on 60 Minutes) about how yakuza oyabun Tadamasa Goto and three mob flunkies conned the FBI and bribed the UCLA Medical Center to provide them liver transplants.
October 08, 2009
Doctor Heli
A recent episode of The Professionals on NHK World featured an ER doc who works for Japan's helicopter emergency medical service, known as "Doctor Heli" (they use the English words). He flies to the scene and triages and treats on the spot, and then follows the patient all the way through the ER.
The case they followed was a traffic accident victim, and it was more explicit than anything I've seen on American television. The man's blood pressure was rapidly dropping by the time they got him to the ER (about fifty yards from the helicopter pad), so they had to open him up and find the internal bleed.
First surprise: the patient is prepped while the doc scrubs in. Then he gloves up, grabs a scalpel and goes zip. I mean, that fast. Lays the guy open with one swipe. None of this delicate, inching along stuff. I guess you get good at it after a while. But it looked like a butcher slicing open a side of beef.
Second "holy cow" moment: searching through his abdominal cavity for the bleed. Not to be too gross about it, but it looked like a bunch of cooks rooting around in a big bowl of spaghetti, picking up handfuls of intestines and pushing organs out of the way and stuffing in towels to soak up the gore.
Watching the video, the rather aghast interviewer posed the same question I had: "You can do that?" He shrugged. "Sure." Considering how badly boxers and football players pummel each other, and what a gymnast puts her body through on the uneven bars, the human gut can take a lot of abuse.
Third surprise: after the doc fixed the bleed and said "Close him up," a pair of nurses took a big piece of transparent (tinted yellow) adhesive tape--about ten inches wide by a foot long--and literally taped him close. Like a box.
The reason for this became clear a few hours later when his blood pressure didn't rise. He had another bleed. So they just peeled off the tape and rooted around in the spaghetti bowl some more and found the second bleed. The patient was fine after that. It was a truly amazing thing to watch.
Here's a video of a training exercise. Unlike the U.S., with parking lots and wide, four-lane streets everywhere, finding places to land the helicopters is a real challenge.
The case they followed was a traffic accident victim, and it was more explicit than anything I've seen on American television. The man's blood pressure was rapidly dropping by the time they got him to the ER (about fifty yards from the helicopter pad), so they had to open him up and find the internal bleed.
First surprise: the patient is prepped while the doc scrubs in. Then he gloves up, grabs a scalpel and goes zip. I mean, that fast. Lays the guy open with one swipe. None of this delicate, inching along stuff. I guess you get good at it after a while. But it looked like a butcher slicing open a side of beef.
Second "holy cow" moment: searching through his abdominal cavity for the bleed. Not to be too gross about it, but it looked like a bunch of cooks rooting around in a big bowl of spaghetti, picking up handfuls of intestines and pushing organs out of the way and stuffing in towels to soak up the gore.
Watching the video, the rather aghast interviewer posed the same question I had: "You can do that?" He shrugged. "Sure." Considering how badly boxers and football players pummel each other, and what a gymnast puts her body through on the uneven bars, the human gut can take a lot of abuse.
Third surprise: after the doc fixed the bleed and said "Close him up," a pair of nurses took a big piece of transparent (tinted yellow) adhesive tape--about ten inches wide by a foot long--and literally taped him close. Like a box.
The reason for this became clear a few hours later when his blood pressure didn't rise. He had another bleed. So they just peeled off the tape and rooted around in the spaghetti bowl some more and found the second bleed. The patient was fine after that. It was a truly amazing thing to watch.
Here's a video of a training exercise. Unlike the U.S., with parking lots and wide, four-lane streets everywhere, finding places to land the helicopters is a real challenge.
Labels: japan, japanese tv, medicine, nhk, nhk world, science, television