Update about blogCa

I-40 picked up the old Rte. 66 somewhere along the way, maybe Little Rock, maybe Oklahoma City. But it is the 100th anniversary of Rte 66 so I enjoyed thinking about my parents driving on part Of it in. St. Louis at least. Here we continued from Santa Rosita to Gallup NM, then left both highways to go north to CO.
Showing posts with label cataracts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cataracts. Show all posts

Friday, January 9, 2026

Never heard of her? Margaret Rossiter

 Do you know the thousands/millions of women who've accomplished amazing things, and we never hear about them?

OK, of course, and a few men too I'd imagine. 



She kept finding women in laboratory photographs from the 1800s. Then she read the published papers—and every single woman had vanished. Someone had erased them from history.

Yale University, 1969.
Margaret Rossiter was a graduate student studying the history of science. She was one of very few women in her program.
Every Friday afternoon, students and faculty gathered for beers and informal conversation. One week, Margaret asked a simple question: "Were there ever any women scientists?"
The faculty answered firmly: No.
Someone mentioned Marie Curie. The group dismissed it—her husband Pierre really deserved the credit.
Margaret didn't argue. But she also didn't believe them.
So she started looking.

She found a reference book called "American Men of Science"—essentially a Who's Who of scientific achievement. Despite the title, she was shocked to discover it contained entries about women. Botanists trained at Wellesley. Geologists from Vermont.
There were names. There were credentials. There were careers.
The professors had been wrong.

But Margaret's discovery was just the beginning. Because as she dug deeper into archives across the country, she found something far more disturbing.
Photograph after photograph showed women standing at laboratory benches, working with equipment, listed on research teams.
But when she read the published papers, the award citations, the official histories—those same women had disappeared. Their names were missing. Their contributions erased.
It wasn't random. It was systematic.

Women who designed experiments watched male colleagues publish results without giving them credit. Women whose discoveries were assigned to supervisors. Women listed in acknowledgments instead of as authors. Women passed over for awards that went to male collaborators who contributed far less.
Margaret realized she was witnessing a pattern that stretched across centuries.
Women had always been present in science. The record had simply pushed them aside.
She needed a name for what she was documenting.
In the early 1990s, she found it in the work of Matilda Joslyn Gage—a 19th-century suffragist who had written about this exact phenomenon in 1870.

In 1993, Margaret published a paper formally naming it: The Matilda Effect.
The term captured something that had been hidden in plain sight for generations. Once you knew the term, you saw it everywhere.
Her dissertation became a lifelong mission.
For more than 30 years, Margaret researched and wrote her landmark three-volume series: Women Scientists in America. She examined letters, institutional policies, individual careers. She gathered undeniable evidence that women in science had been consistently under-credited and structurally excluded.
Her work faced resistance. Many dismissed women's history as political rather than academic. Others insisted she was exaggerating.
Margaret didn't argue emotionally. She presented data. Documented cases. Patterns repeated across decades and institutions.

Eventually, the evidence became undeniable.
Her research helped restore recognition to scientists who had been erased:

Rosalind Franklin, whose X-ray work revealed DNA's structure—credit went to Watson and Crick.

Lise Meitner, who explained nuclear fission—omitted from the Nobel Prize.

Nettie Stevens, who discovered sex chromosomes—received little credit.

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, who discovered stars are made of hydrogen—initially dismissed.

And countless others whose names had nearly vanished.
Margaret changed the narrative. Science was no longer just the story of solitary male geniuses. It became a story of collaboration that included women who had been written out.

The Matilda Effect became standard terminology. Scholars used it to examine how credit is assigned, how authors are listed, who receives awards, who gets left out.
Universities updated curricula. New biographies were written. Entire fields began re-examining accepted histories.
Margaret received the Sarton Medal—the highest honor in the history of science. She won a MacArthur "genius" grant. Cornell created an entire department partly to keep her on faculty.
More importantly, she reshaped how we understand scientific progress.

The Matilda Effect didn't end in the past. It continues today. Women scientists still receive fewer citations, fewer awards, fewer promotions.
But now the pattern has a name. Now the bias can be measured. And once a pattern is visible, it becomes harder to ignore.
On August 3, 2025, Margaret Rossiter died at age 81. She had spent over 50 years bringing erased women back into the light.
Because of her, their names are known. Because of her, the pattern can't hide. Because of her, the story of science is finally beginning to reflect the truth.
If one historian can restore the voices of generations who were written out, what else might change when we decide to tell the full story instead of the convenient one?


Source: Deep Mind Thinking FB page

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Wikipedia has these articles of similar interest:

I'll focus on the Women Nobel Peace Prize Winners in another post soon! There have only been 20 of them.

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Another woman scientist, who made a significant contribution to my own life!


In 1986, Patricia Bath conducted research in the laboratory of Danièle Aron-Rosa, a pioneer researcher in lasers and ophthalmology at Rothschild Eye Institute of Paris,[35] and then at the Laser Medical Center in Berlin, where she was able to begin early studies in laser cataract surgery, including her first experiment with excimer laser photoablation using human eye bank eyes.[35]

Bath coined the term "laser phaco" for the process, short for laser photoablative cataract surgery,[36] and developed the laser phaco probe, a medical device that improves on the use of lasers to remove cataracts, and "for ablating and removing cataract lenses". Bath first had the idea for this type of device in 1981, but did not apply for a patent until several years later.[37] The device was completed in 1986 after Bath conducted research on lasers in Berlin and patented in 1988,[38] making her the first African-American woman to receive a patent for a medical purpose.[11] The device — which quickly and nearly painlessly dissolves the cataract with a laser, irrigates and cleans the eye and permits the easy insertion of a new lens — is used internationally to treat the disease.[5][4][6] Bath continued to improve the device and successfully restored vision to people who had been unable to see for decades.[19][39]

Bath holds five patents in the United States.[2] Three of Bath's five patents relate to the Laserphaco Probe.[19] In 2000, she was granted a patent for a method for using pulsed ultrasound to remove cataracts,[6] and in 2003 a patent for combining laser and ultrasound to remove cataracts.

Thanks Wikipedia

Dr. Patricia Bath

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I'm really grateful to have my cataracts removed several years ago. I would guess Dr. Bath's inventions helped my doctors accomplish that!

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Today's goddess:


Beautiful clay figurine of the Goddess, dated ca 5000-4500 BC. It was found in Gradeshnitsa, Vratsa, Bulgaria.

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Sepia Saturday suggests the meme of Work that was done in the past.
Women scientists certainly need that recognition!



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"It is my belief that the writer, the free-lance author, should be and must be a critic of the society in which he lives. It is easy enough, and always profitable, to rail away at national enemies beyond the sea, at foreign powers beyond our borders who question the prevailing order. But the moral duty of the free writer is to begin his work at home; to be a critic of his own community, his own country, his own culture. If the writer is unwilling to fill this part, then the writer should abandon pretense and find another line of work: become a shoe repairman, a brain surgeon, a janitor, a cowboy, a nuclear physicist, a bus driver.
 -Edward Abbey, naturalist and author (29 Jan 1927-1989)

This is not to necessarily say bloggers are the same as "free-lance writers" - or are they?

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Personally I'm aghast at the news from Wednesday with the murder of Renee Nicole Good by ICE officers, and the attempts to cover it up by the lying SOB administration. I got tired of it all. Yes people will be doing a demonstration in Asheville Thursday afternoon (writing this on Thursday morning). I have so much anger at this point there's no room for any more or it will poison me. (See the Maybe The Angry Women post coming up on Sunday!)

Sunday, April 30, 2023

Memories and experiencing joy

  

Today's quote:

The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant.

 -Salvador Dali, painter (1904-1989)

I thought briefly about this quote, then felt a deep ah-ha moment. I have definitely stored up a bunch of brilliantly technicolor memories, and only left a few of the dark ones, in sepia tones, to lurk in my brain.

There are certainly times I've done someone wrong - and hopefully I've made whatever restitution I could by now. But there are still those memories! 

And then there are the dark times more recently in my own experience...feeling like a very depressed individual, wanting to sleep many more than 8 hours a night/day...having no appetite, fighting a recurring fever than went away in a day. Yep, I know that happened to me off and on for months. 

And I know the antidepressant meds didn't really solve the problem. But coming off them (over 2 weeks time) I actually felt better. It's like they had grabbed something inside my brain/emotional center...and took it out. I still wanted to sleep at least 10 hours a night...but didn't on the days I had something in the morning scheduled.

Me attending a concert when I was about to be dianosed with pneumonia.


And then I got full blown pneumonia...the fever coinciding with lungs on second Xray having some things that hadn't appeared back one the one in December. And 5 days of heavy duty antibiotics gave me clear breathing and no fever. I was back able to function normally in a couple of weeks time. I had an amazing lack of my usual daily coughing as well.

I still was aware of not feeling any joy. I wasn't feeling particularly anything.

Then suddenly the other day, I said to myself, what if there's just a joy button, or a specially sized opening in my being/brain which lets in the feeling of joy? Maybe I don't have to come up with it from inside myself, which seemed to be the message from other people. Maybe I can just sit here, my normal vegetative state, and wait for it to come hitting that spot in my brain.

I like that. And I think I've felt a bit of joy since that concept. I sure can get sillier now. Relax better. And you've noticed all my photos of blossoms this spring. Now I feel the joy of their colors against the bright blue of skies.

I find great joy in having fresh air coming in my windows, right off the many leaves of the maples outside. That's a nice hit of oxygen I think! 

And being with productive people who are doing amazing things. It's so nice to know them, observe them, and maybe support them as best I am able. From authors to craftspeople...so much creativity!

Then my dear orchids finally started dropping their blooms. They have lasted a really long time this year. The cycles of life!


And of course I'm getting my cataracts removed, so now I have another joy...seeing the true colors of things! The second eye is healing nicely.

Yes, I'm very grateful too, for this newfound sense of joy. I do intend to keep that little spot that welcomes it wide open to new things.


Wednesday, April 26, 2023

The fears are real, as are the love and support

 NOTE: This whacky blogger posted tomorrow's blog today, so there won't be one tomorrow.


Today's quote:

The higher up you go, the more mistakes you are allowed. Right at the top, if you make enough of them, it's considered to be your style.

 -Fred Astaire, dancer, actor, singer, musician, and choreographer (1899-1987)

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And unfortunately we all know how tRump exemplified that truism. 

His style continues to be expressed by Republicans in Congress...doing the crazy things that don't represent the majority of American's wishes, trying to create an autocracy rather than following our current constitution which created a democratic republic - a democracy.

You know how I feel about gun control.

I also am doing what any 80 year old grandmother can do in a small town in North Carolina to see that the climate crisis may be still averted. And if not, sharing grief with those who know how it's going to be happening to all of us.

Has there ever been a time like this? Maybe as Rome fell. Perhaps in other conditions where food was scarce due to drought and fires and floods. In older times, a local crisis didn't impact everyone in a region. But this is a much bigger, earth-wide scale.

So some thugs will still have guns. And their fears will result in the deaths of many innocents. (This is not my wish, just my observation from current events.)

And some rich people will wall themselves up in their estates and live for a little while longer than the masses who can't escape the poverty and starvation and diseases from the climate crisis when it impacts everyone else. In a way I think the richer 1% have already started doing this.

Maybe the rich people will be confronted by the fear-filled gun toting gangs...or maybe the air will be so contaminated that nobody can breathe at all. Maybe there will be corpses of vehicles strewn along unused highways when there're no more fossil fuels. This is similar to the impact of an electromagnetic pulse, written about by a local author, William R. Forstchen in "One Second After."

See, there are those scary scenarios that go through my mind sometimes. Then I bring myself back. Today, I have fresh air and sunshine that offers me health. Exercises, good food, friends with supportive ideas and touches, rest and relaxation as needed, and music, and art, and blossoms of springtime. 

I will continue to do whatever I'm capable of to support a continuation of earth mother as she naturally is, with humans existing in harmony with nature.




Tomorrow I'm scheduled for eye surgery to remove the cataract in my other eye. I'm feeling pretty good about it, having a positive experience for the first one. I may have to stop reading blogs depending on how my new lenses focus. So far the new one is clear to read here, so while the second one heals, I expect the first will suffice. 



Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Eye exam

So my annual eye exam was yesterday.

Usually this is a breeze, but there was some concern about my right eye.  It continues to not test into the 20-20 range.  It's about 20-25 according to Dr. Smith.  I really wish it would behave.  I came in with 4 concerns, and most of them couldn't be solved by new glasses.

First my present frames don't have a nose-bud setup, so they sit right on my nose.  I didn't know that would be a problem, but it means they also sit on my cheeks when I'm lying down. I only lie down to read before going to sleep, but inevitably my cheeks leave some skin oil on the glasses, and that means cleaning them off several times when I'm trying to get sleepy.  So to solve that, I'm going back to my previous frames with nose-buds.

Next was my peripheral vision problem, which I've blamed on the glasses.  Not so, said Dr. Smith. I've got droopy eyelids, and they are worse on the right eye.  Well, yesterday I was surprised to see how much droop I had.  I hadn't noticed in my latest photo at all. But that's cause my eyes are crinkled up with a smile.  So I took a selfie while waiting for my eyes to dilate at the optometrist's office.  Dr. Smith said they weren't bad enough to need surgery, but sometime down the line I might consider that.

Last week smiling.
 This week checking my eyelid droop.
Later at the auto parts place when I got new wiper blades (raining) I tried raising my eyebrows.  Doesn't help much.  But my pupils are still dilated!

Anyway, there were a couple of other problems, which I forgot by the end of the exam when she said my glaucoma test showed a raised pressure level in the right eye.  Poor right eye, at least it still works.

But the reason I'm giving all this information (I know, who really cares) is that I'm approaching a time of having problems due to cataracts growing slowly, but they aren't yet operable.  So I'll continue to have night vision problems (and can't read the Jeopardy questions without their having halos around the letters on TV) until they reach a stage where they are really bad, and thus can have surgery.

Same with the glaucoma pressure.  I need to be monitored more often than once a year, so am going back in 6 months.  But it's not enough to do anything else about, yet.

This body will be almost 77 when I go back in August.

I'm so glad it still walks around ok, though my knees frequently go ouch when going down the porch steps.  I haven't fallen in years (knock on wood!)  If it weren't for frequently coughing till I gasp for breath, I'd say I'm doing fine.  I think I'll say that anyway.  I know there are women my age who could run circles around me. And there are some who are having more problems.  So I'm grateful for the condition my condition is in.