Okay, more like falling off a bike.
We go to school and we learn things.
We go through life and we practice things.
They are as easy as breathing; as driving; as eating.
Until one day . . .
We stop doing them. Idle hands may do the Devil's work, but idle brains wither and die.
Imagine a world where you learn to write and speak your name. You do this before tests and on all paperwork through your adult life. Now imagine that the world changes and you only need to present a biometric ID or retina display to gain access to classes, apply for a mortgage, or complete forms at the BMV or your prescriber's office. No more talking or writing expected.
Will you still remember how to communicate the old way?
Will you remember your name?
How to pronounce it?
How to spell it?
Will there be secret, underground societies comprised of humans who prefer the old, verbal method of greeting one another?
Alas, poor Yorick.
CPP: CP, where are you going with this?
CP: Sometimes events occur in multiples and you wonder if it's a sign of the Apocalypse or a series of unrelated anomalies.
CPP: And last week was?
CP: A number of offices called us with the same issue and their answers were all eerily similar in their stupidity.
CPP: Blamed the eclipse?
CP: Worse. The software.
CPP: Okay. Tell me what happened.
CP: Prescribers go to school, right?
CPP: Most of them. Others, I'm not so sure.
CP: But they learn how to write prescriptions, right?
CPP: What with electronic records, it's become an antiquated practise.
CP: Indeed. But the majority of prescribers out there had to hand write prescriptions at some point, non?
CPP: Oui.
CP: Then why did we receive multiple calls from (and make multiple calls to) offices whose electronic prescribing systems were "giving them fits" and they "forgot how to write prescriptions"? I can understand certain traits of a civilisation eroding over a generation, but within a few years of practise?
CPP: I see what you mean.
CP: We had a control prescription where the prescriber forgot to write his DEA#, spell the quantity, and date the prescription.
CPP: Outrageous! Of course you called the office.
CP: Of course, at which point I received the obligatory "the system was down" excuse from the phone answerer person.
CPP: Remember our math teachers in school always telling us we won't always have a calculator?
CP: I repeat that often. It's why I still do all my calculations on the backs of the prescriptions after doing them in head. I check myself.
CPP: Before you wreck yourself?
CP: The point is, we can still do this. We don't get flummoxed. We don't get upset. There is no perturbation. We can think for ourselves and adapt and do what's right and necessary.
CPP: You really need to do a post about having the ability to think for oneself. Something along the lines of learning HOW to think as opposed to being taught WHAT to think.
CP: Like the one I wrote last week?
CPP: Precisely.
CP: Of course, at which point I received the obligatory "the system was down" excuse from the phone answerer person.
CPP: Remember our math teachers in school always telling us we won't always have a calculator?
CP: I repeat that often. It's why I still do all my calculations on the backs of the prescriptions after doing them in head. I check myself.
CPP: Before you wreck yourself?
CP: The point is, we can still do this. We don't get flummoxed. We don't get upset. There is no perturbation. We can think for ourselves and adapt and do what's right and necessary.
CPP: You really need to do a post about having the ability to think for oneself. Something along the lines of learning HOW to think as opposed to being taught WHAT to think.
CP: Like the one I wrote last week?
CPP: Precisely.
