Caught by a Computer
As I sat in his office, sweat dripped off my long brown bangs onto my light blue collared button-down shirt. It was not because I was nervous, it was because it was the end of April and unseasonably warm in Charlottesville, Virginia. I was there, in my professor’s office, in my mind, because he wanted to get caught up with me about my future plans after graduation. He was curious about my plans for the summer, plans for my fiancé and I, and plans for my career as a high school teacher at the public school in my hometown, Mclean, Virginia. I was alone in his office, waiting for Dr. Bloomfield to show up to his office for our casual meeting scheduled for 3:30 that afternoon. The heat was becoming unbearable. The University of Virginia’s century old buildings on the quad were not air conditioned, and I was beginning to wish that I had paid the extra tuition to have them installed. I sat in his small dimly lit office, becoming impatient because it was nearing four o’clock. I began to notice the pictures that cluttered Dr. Bloomfield’s overrun office. Pictures of his wife, his twin daughters, who appeared to be roughly the same age as I, and his younger son, in his early teen years, sat atop stacks of periodicals and yet to be graded finals. I noticed my final research paper on the top of the stack. This seemed odd; however I guessed he only wanted to discuss it while we met, as foreclosure to the popular Intro. To Physics class for upperclassmen of his that I was enrolled in, as it was our final assignment. I was distracted once again by the array of pictures throughout his undeservedly small office. Among these were more pictures of his boat, his bay house on the Chesapeake Bay, and his chocolate lab Mocha, whom I was familiar with at this point due to several stories he shared in class. Dr. Bloomfield was a family man whom I had gained great respect for over the years. My aspirations for what I wanted my life to turn out like very closely replicated his own life. Sitting alone in his office gave me time to think about what I wanted to become, who I wanted to marry, how many kids I wanted to have and so on.
Cardiovascular disease (CVD) refers to the dysfunctional conditions of the heart, arteries, and veins that supply oxygen to vital life- sustaining areas of the body like the brain, the heart itself and other vital organs. Since the term cardiovascular disease refers to any dysfunction of the cardiovascular system there are many different diseases in the cardiovascular category, and many of these diseases are strongly intertwined. Ischemic Heart Disease is the medical idiom for the obstruction of blood flow to the heart. It is usually due largely in part to excess fat or plaque deposits that narrow the veins that provide oxygenated blood to the heart. This excess fat buildup and plaque are respectively known as arteriosclerosis and atherosclerosis. Hypertension is frequently a result of both arteriosclerosis and atherosclerosis, and can lead to more serious CVDs, such as angina attack (an acute and squeezing chest pain due to inefficient blood flow to the heart), and myocardial infarction( the sudden death of part of the heart muscle). A stroke is a CVD that occurs when there is in inadequate oxygen flow to the brain. An abnormally high or abnormally low heart rate because of the disruption of the natural electric impulses of the heart is called cardiac arrhythmia. Carditis and endocarditis, the infection and inflammation of the heart, can occur as a result of a weak immune system, liver problems, heart surgery, or an autoimmune disorder.
Walt Whitman is known for his excellence in writing and poetry during the mid 19th century in American Literature. The Leaves of Grass is one of his more memorable works of literature. The work expresses many thoughts and opinions about art, nature, and early nationalism. It also includes a multitude messages for the readers in an attempt to capture the reader and reinforce his points.Within the Preface of the work he talks about issues that he feels are important to inform his audience before they continue into the literature. These observations made by Whitman signify some importance to him in one way or another. Using his rhetorical skills, Walt Whitman attempts to educate his audience about the importance of self improvement and self awareness
Coronary artery disease is a heart disease characterized by narrow arteries and restricted blood flow in arteries and is the major cause of morbidity and mortality globally.[1] According to WHO estimation, 6.8% in men and 5.3% in women are affected globally.[2-4] Cardiovascular disease account for 29% of all deaths in Canada; of all the cardiovascular death, 54% and 23% was due to ischemic heart disease and heart attack, respectively. The total costs for heart disease and stroke were more than $20.9 billion every year. [5,6] With more than 1 artery impacted, multivessel coronary artery disease is more complex and more likely accompanied by other comorbidities including diabetes or high blood pressure; multivessel coronary artery disease usually is more difficult to deal with, has worse prognosis and cost more compared with single coronary artery disease. [7]
Hall, A. (2001, August). The Flat Income Tax and the Fair Tax Consumption Tax: A
Skloot, Floyd. “In the Shadow of Memory.” Intersections: An Introduction to the Liberal Arts. Ed. Peggy Fitch. Littleton, MA: Tapestry, 2011. 79-84. Print.
Forty ordinary male citizens of New Haven and the surrounding New England areas-representing several occupations, ranging in the ages of twenty to fifty years old, were solicited and recruited under the premise of participating in a study of “memory and learning”. Each subject was compensated $4.50 for participating, and told that the payment was for their attendance to the Yale University laboratory, and no matter what the outcome the payment was theirs to keep. The controlled assignments were an experimenter/authority figure, portrayed by an impassive, somewhat stern thirty-one year old male, and the victim portrayed by a mild-mannered, likeable forty-seven year old male. Through rigged drawings, the uncontrolled assignments or subjects were always selected as teachers (Milgram, 1963).
Finally, here I am typing this assignment on the first floor of the library finishing this paper so I’m able to continue onto my college and career journey. I’ve learned so many thing in just the past couple years that’s helped with other situations in my life and I will carry them to help me along with things through the rest of my life; like multitasking, highlighting the important facts, summarizing, communicating, to not be so self conscious, and finally to be successful in pursuing my dreams and going to UNLV and becoming a criminal profiler.
As I opened the doors to Lynn Gross Discovery School P.S. 17Q. I felt the butterflies in my stomach. It was the first day of school in America for me and had a bad feeling. My mom, my dad, my sister, Monica and I step inside the school. I looked inside the enormous hallway and the walls covered with artwork and pictures. My dad commanded my sister, Monica and I “I have to go to the office and do something. You two sit down on the benches and wait with your mom.” Monica and I agreed and said, “Okay.’’ I felt the clock ticking by and I wished for the world to stop turning. I waited and waited and waited. Finally, I decided to ask my mom something. “Mom, do you know how to say I don’t know how to speak English in English?” I asked her in Russian. She told me how and I tried to remember. I repeated the words over and over again like a singer trying to memorize the lyrics to a song, until my dad finally came out the office. My dad told us “You are now officially students of P.S.157. Now it time to go to your classrooms” in Russian.
Atherosclerosis is a disease that occurs when arteries become blocked, inflamed, or hardened. As a result of this, blood cannot easily pass through the artery, and blood pressure increases. Many people suffer from atherosclerosis as they age, but young people can be affected by atherosclerosis also. There are many preventative steps that can be taken to decrease the risk of atherosclerosis; however, if atherosclerosis does develop in the arteries, medications can be given to help the individual receive adequate blood flow to important tissues. Atherosclerosis is a very serious condition that requires medical attention and a change in life style because it is a precursor to many dangerous and potentially fatal diseases.
There are certain moments in my writing process, even more than twenty years later, that I can still imagine hearing that sharply critical voice striking a deep and lasting blow as the journalism assignment replete with bloody red ink landed on my desk. “This is all wrong,” were the words my high school journalism teacher stabbed me with as she passed down the aisle pausing only long enough for me to catch a whiff of her nicotine breath. At the very same moment my stomach muscle knotted, my face burned as if with fever, and those four words echoed out of control over and over again in my ears. Notoriously late for class due to her love of smoking cigarettes in the teacher’s lounge (in those days smoking was allowed in school buildings), Ms. B’s entrance into the class on this particular day was no exception. With a flurry of authority, arrogance, and impatience, she appeared before me-the subservient and humble student. Her disdain for my writing was obvious in her written comments on the returned assignment. But it was the spoken word about my writing that intimidated and humiliated me, even to this very day when I allow myself to think back on the incident.
Seven thirty in the morning, confused, and gazing at my first experience of college I had no idea what this semester would have in store for me. Within the second story of Vawter Hall about fifty to a hundred students are crowding the hall awaiting the arrival of their professors. I was no different; unlike these other chatty energetic individuals I was alone, and desperate to get this first day over with. At eight o’clock bells chime through the building and the students have now dwindled down to those who I will later come to know as classmates and those few who had overslept on the first day. Eight fifteen, the little crowd starts to stir; the professor has still yet to arrive. Around eight twenty a woman with short cut hair arrives in a hurried manner, clearly upset to have arrived after her students. However, to her surprise, and those of her students, the door was
Two weeks later, the professor's wife, who teaches psychology, gave an examination to her advanced class. Halfway through the test a student asked to go to the bathroom. She was gone a long time, but the psychologist, who employed the young woman as a lab assistant and was directing her honors thesis, suppressed her suspicions. That evening, she visited the ladies room. In the toilet stall she noticed a sheaf of papers stuffed behind a plumbing pipe. They turned out to b e handouts distributed in the course, covered with notes in what she believed was the student's handwriting.
Being a student in Mrs. Wroblewski’s classroom always made me feel safe. Whenever something was bothering me, I knew I could talk to her in order to work things out. I knew that if I told her, she would actually do something about it. I still remember when I was sick on the second day of seventh grade and when I came back the next day sh...
Sitting there taking down electron arrangements, it perversely occurs to me that I could use this episode as a topic for my personal essay, after all, aren’t personal traumas the common fodder for moving essays? A friend slaps me on the back, congratulating me on my “heroism.” Inwardly, a coward contemplates the bulky science teacher.
School had just started; it was the fall of my sophomore year. I was excited about having new teachers and being able to boss around those little freshmen since I had finally lost that ridiculous title of “freshy.” Although one class did turn all that excitement right into knots in my stomach, it was English 10. Ugh I hated English, partially because I could never remember all those rules of writing, which I had just thought of as “dumb.” I figured, “Why would I ever need to know all them? Computers will be able to fix all my mistakes for me!” As I would soon find out, boy was I ever wrong. Surprisingly, class was going good; our teacher Mr. Mieckowski seemed to be a little weird and quite boring at times but all in all not too bad I mean who isn’t boring occasionally? He had a shiny head with very little hair and never wore long sleeves to class. He was also quite tall and skinny, so everyone had his or her own conclusion about Mr. Mieckowski’s personal life. A lot of the time this ended up being the topic of conversation for his students, along with his hatred towards icicle lights, white reindeer, and especially technology; the thing I loved most.