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Aug. 28th, 2009 08:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ann_leckieGo read this: The Joy of English Grammar
Speaking of joy. Not!
So, this project I'm working on came to a point where I said to myself, "Self," I said, "at this point, this project would be greatly facilitated if you had a better grounding in, among other things, human physiology." And I agreed, and responded, "Good point, self, and you know what? The library has probably got some books you can read to bone up on the subject." So I hit my library's website and requested a few things, including Physiology Demystified: A Self-Teaching Guide by Dr. Dale Layman.
I'm in an odd place with biology. I grew up in a household where glycogen synthesis was a routine topic of dinner conversation. To this day, when someone cuts into a steak and says, "Look at all that blood!" I have to exert effort to avoid saying, "That's not blood, it's myoglobin." I have an odd store of bits and pieces of knowledge. But I have forgotten just as much basic high school biology as the next person. And besides, it's not glycogen synthesis I need to read about.
So I got my email today that the books had reached my branch, and I went to pick them up. Got home, made a cup of tea, sat down on the couch, and opened Physiology Demystified. Here's how it starts:
Right. I close the book, look at the call number. No J in front, so it's not a juvenile. I look at the back copy. It insists that this book will be a fun and painless way to learn about physiology. I note to myself that those first few sentences were neither fun nor painless. Of course, I don't find studying such things painful or dull, frankly, but I know a lot of people do find science of various sorts intimidating, and take no offense at attempts to persuade them otherwise.
I made another attempt to co-exist with Professor Joe, but found it too painful to get past that first paragraph. I started opening the book randomly to see if maybe it was worth skipping ahead, or forging through and offering the pain up for the souls in Purgatory.
That punctuation is not a typo, btw. Or, you know, not my typo.
The only reason he doesn't give you pronunciation for internal or external is, he provided that helpful information ten pages back. I am not joking. I wish I were. Paging through, I do see that there's a lot of information there, including two whole chapters that address the particular issues I'm interested in. But I just can't read this book. I'd rather bang my head against a wall for a day or two.
Time to try the next book.
Speaking of joy. Not!
So, this project I'm working on came to a point where I said to myself, "Self," I said, "at this point, this project would be greatly facilitated if you had a better grounding in, among other things, human physiology." And I agreed, and responded, "Good point, self, and you know what? The library has probably got some books you can read to bone up on the subject." So I hit my library's website and requested a few things, including Physiology Demystified: A Self-Teaching Guide by Dr. Dale Layman.
I'm in an odd place with biology. I grew up in a household where glycogen synthesis was a routine topic of dinner conversation. To this day, when someone cuts into a steak and says, "Look at all that blood!" I have to exert effort to avoid saying, "That's not blood, it's myoglobin." I have an odd store of bits and pieces of knowledge. But I have forgotten just as much basic high school biology as the next person. And besides, it's not glycogen synthesis I need to read about.
So I got my email today that the books had reached my branch, and I went to pick them up. Got home, made a cup of tea, sat down on the couch, and opened Physiology Demystified. Here's how it starts:
Hello there! Who am I? Why, I am your host. They call me Professor Joe, the Talking Skeleton! I have been selected as your guide for this book, PHYSIOLOGY DEMYSTIFIED. I am here to give you a basic, "bare bones" introduction to what happens in The Place Below Your Skin!
Right. I close the book, look at the call number. No J in front, so it's not a juvenile. I look at the back copy. It insists that this book will be a fun and painless way to learn about physiology. I note to myself that those first few sentences were neither fun nor painless. Of course, I don't find studying such things painful or dull, frankly, but I know a lot of people do find science of various sorts intimidating, and take no offense at attempts to persuade them otherwise.
I made another attempt to co-exist with Professor Joe, but found it too painful to get past that first paragraph. I started opening the book randomly to see if maybe it was worth skipping ahead, or forging through and offering the pain up for the souls in Purgatory.
"So, what's the big deal about maintaining homeostasis of blood calcium ion concentration, Professor Joe?", the untutored mind may be prodded to ask.
That punctuation is not a typo, btw. Or, you know, not my typo.
A stimulus (STIM-you-lus) is literally "prod" or "goad." (Picture a long stick that pokes or prods the body.) In general, a stimulus is a detectable change in the body's internal or external environment. "What detects this change?" the curious reader may well ask. The answer is: a sensory receptor (ree-SEP-ter).
The only reason he doesn't give you pronunciation for internal or external is, he provided that helpful information ten pages back. I am not joking. I wish I were. Paging through, I do see that there's a lot of information there, including two whole chapters that address the particular issues I'm interested in. But I just can't read this book. I'd rather bang my head against a wall for a day or two.
Time to try the next book.