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Friday 21 March 2014

DANIEL OMAR


With the plane still not found (if you said ‘what plane?’ I truly envy your ability to block out the world) and some people round the world celebrating the passing of Fred Phelps (I’m sorry for his family as he was someone’s son and I’m trying to be kind, but good riddance to all that hate), I thought there was no better way to ring in a Friday than with an inspirational story. 

Today’s comes from Los Angeles, by way of the Sudan. Mick Ebeling, the founder of a company called Not Impossible Labs helps build devices to assist people facing insurmountable physical challenges. After reading about a Sudanese boy in Time magazine named Daniel Omar, who lost both arms in a bomb blast (being a father himself to three boys) he found it hard to sit there and do nothing. Ebeling also understood the cruel reality that despite the fact that thousands are losing limbs in the Sudan from bomb blasts, fitting them with prosthetics is not a priority for humanitarian organizations as it can be a very costly venture.

But not one to give up, Ebeling traveled to the Sudan in November of 2013 to find Daniel and build him an arm in a more economical and technologically advanced way. The amazing part, it would be a prosthetic arm built from a 3D printer that he was taking with him. Apparently (as this is not my area of expertise!) the 3D printers that create the prosthetic's plastic parts is really just a simple, mechanical device (simple to Ebeling; Me, not so much). “The arm works by using movement to trigger cables, threaded throughout the plastic structure like ligaments. When the user flexes and bends the remaining portion of their arm, this motion tenses the cables, which in turn curl and uncurl the fingers at the tip.”
Ebeling and his company deemed the undertaking "Project Daniel," but the hard part would be locating him as Daniel lived in a remote and war torn part of South Sudan. There were also concerns that when they did locate him he would not be keen on the idea of receiving a prosthetic arm from some “tall, bald white dude,” as Ebeling described himself.
At first a bit hermitic and shell shocked to say the least, Daniel warmed to the idea and soon enough was wearing this new fitted arm, and coming back into himself and the world. Ebeling describes Daniel’s transformation by this £60 device that takes several days to build as life changing. "Getting Daniel to feed himself was a highlight that was right up there with watching my kids being born."



Ebeling’s other goal whilst in the Sudan was to share the 3D prosthetic building techniques with Dr. Tom Catena, who works as the only qualified amputator in the area. Soon enough, the idea caught fire and the community rallied around the hope that this new technique could bring. Before Ebeling even touched down back in Los Angeles, two new prosthetic arms had been built. In fact, since Ebeling has returned home to the States, one prosthetic a week has been printed, thanks to two 3D printers he left behind and the training of the locals who are customising them for those in need.


It’s stories like these that inspire us on many levels. Firstly, that there are people out the world like Ebeling who are not willing to just sit there and do nothing when they have the ability to change the lives of so many, and more importantly, that we realize that sometimes it does not take millions to change a life, but £60 and a few individuals eager to help those in need.

Happy Friday All.



Thursday 20 March 2014

THE MIGHTY C


[One from the archives today. New blog tomorrow!]

I’ll be honest. One of my favourite things about Britain may surprise you (it's not the free medical, but that's definitely high on the list). No, it’s not the scathing wit or cutting edge music, or even the quaint old buildings (some of them are just old, and could use with a little upkeep). To be perfectly frank, as I know you can handle it, it’s the widespread use, and general acceptance of the C word. Yes THAT C word. Fine, the Queen doesn’t say it, but you know Charlie boy lets it roll off the old tongue once in awhile.

It took me about a month to really register that was indeed the word I was hearing. But alas! Do my subversive little Yankee ears deceive me? You people are saying the forbidden word of all words. Where I come from, this little nasty gem is up there with the nastiest of words. In the mighty land of free speech, [stop laughing], this word could actually get you incarcerated. It must be said that I grew up with a Father whose profound embrace of the F word meant that I learned to use it as a noun, adjective and verb by the age of seven, so you can understand my excitement. [My mother, thank god, was the picture of refinement and elegance so I turned out fairly balanced].

So there I was, virtually skipping through the streets of London shouting it from the rooftops like Dick Van Dyke’s alternate gendered evil twin: “C----!” I’d combine it, “F----- C----!” Use it in a sentence, “Could you believe that f------ c---!” [My English granny was definitely rolling over in her grave]. Just feeling it roll off my tongue would send me into liberated hysterics. I started hearing it films, not Merchant Ivory of course, but you’ve seen one you’ve seen em all, on talk shows, at dinner parties ‘Hey, c---, could you pass the Camembert’. (Fine, I may be exaggerating now). In fact, recently, four different forms of the word c*nt have just been added to the English dictionary (c*nty, c*ntish, c*nted, and c*nting). That is how revered this mighty word now is (revered and yet still very much feared in some parts).

It’s hard to forget the time I returned to the States and used it in front of my mother, my English mother, for that matter. (Yes she’s been Americanized, but the woman still drinks tea like it’s water). She about barred me from returning to London, ‘that was not how we spoke when I lived there!’. I of course, bathed in my new uber cool anglophilia, told her to chill out, assuring her that everyone says it now. “I promise Mom, It’s like her majesty’s version of ‘have a nice day”.  My English friends finally had to burst my euphoric bubble and tell me that not everyone said it, and yes, it was still deemed offensive...I suppose some of the reactions I received started to make a bit more sense.

Fine. I’ll save it like a precious piece of Parisian chocolate only to make an appearance for the very deserving. You’re out there, and know who you are!

C u next Tuesday.


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