Saturday, July 20, 2019

Just for fun

Who is this handsome guy? Take your guesses. I will tell you who later.

Saturday, July 13, 2019

Nursing Humououour

By:Kelly Bybee Savage

(shamelessly stolen from a nursing fb page by yours truly)

What happens when you drink 10 oz of Magnesium Citrate? I'm glad you asked...

12:05 pm: It's time. You shotgun a 10 oz bottle like it's a lukewarm PBR and you don't want to be a coward in front of your older brother's friends. It's suppose to be grape flavored but it's becoming quite clear that whoever led the R&D team that day has never actually tasted anything grape in their life. You are already regretting this decision.

12:06 pm: You deep throat a cupcake like you've been saving it for the apocalypse because let's face it...that time is here. It's going to turn to liquid form before it even clears your throat but you don't care. All is right in the world at this moment. Hold on to that. You're about to enter a very dark period in your life.

12:37 pm: First sign of life. The pressure is growing. You already have 5 lbs of crap in your colon and you basically just drank the "safe for humans" version of Drano. You feel a poop coming on finally. You think it's time. You're wrong. You get a little snake turd as a teaser. Take note...this is the last semi-solid thing you will see leaving your body for the next 24 hours.

12:57 pm: That little science experiment you got cooking is about to reach it's boiling point. Your stomach is angry now. It hates can feel it. You have exactly .3 seconds to make it to the nearest toilet but you can't run... NEVER run! You pray to god there is enough elasticity in your butthole to keep the gates closed 5 more steps as you start to preemptively undo your pants to save valuable time. Almost there. 3...2...1...

12:58 pm: Sweet Mary, mother of this real life? Your cheeks barely hit the seat and all hell breaks loose. The crap / water mixture you've just created comes out with such force that it actually sprays the back of the toilet bowl at a 45 degree angle thus deflecting it in every direction but down. Is that blood? False alarm. That's just the remnants of a cherry pie you ate at Thanksgiving...when you were 5. The smell is horrid...the sound is frightening. You try to clench whats left of your butthole to soften the blow but it's not working. The whole house just heard your liquid shart as it gurgled out of your ass.

1:06 pm- 8:30 pm: Everything's a blur. You have shit out everything you have ever eaten since the day you were born, everything your ancestors have ever eaten since the early 1800's, and your butthole now feels like you have a flaming hot Cheeto and the tears of a thousand Jalapeno seeds stuck in it. You're now curled up in the bathtub ugly crying because you have to remain within arm's reach of the toilet at all times. You have the poop sweats. You meet Jesus.

8:37 pm: Your family will never be able to unsee the things they've seen in the last 8 hours. You're broken. Your butthole's broken. Your spirit's broken. Life as you know it will never be the same. But...tomorrow's a new day. You're going to wake up, throw on the only remaining pair of underwear you have that doesn't have a shit stain on it, and you're going to run up to Target with the last shred of dignity you have left...and buy yourself a new toilet brush. You've earned it.

Saturday, June 22, 2019

Dear God, Please wrap Your arms around our dear friend Don and keep him in Your care. We love you, Dances.

Wednesday, June 19, 2019

The Mystery Person

Sometimes you meet people and you wonder who they are. There may be some tantalizing hints but nothing to give you a full explanation, especial back in the days before the internet. Just as people asked as the Lone Ranger rode away, "Who was that masked man?" you may have questions for years during which time you get more information but it may take even more years before your questions are completely answered.

Thursday, June 6, 2019

75th Anniversary of D Day - 6 JUNE 2019

How do we even begin to say thank you to the men and women who made D Day possible.  We shall, and will, not ever forget.  The sacrifices were unimaginable.  I thank them for my safety and for my freedom.  Their bravery and actions made my life possible.

Thank you seems so inadequate.

In the first photo, my mother, in WW11, drove a bus. Born in 1919, she was 20 when WW11 began and 26 when it ended.

My father, in the second photo (middle) served as a water tank driver in North Africa.  Born in 1908, he was 31 when WW11 started and 37 when it ended.

Although neither one of them were directly involved in D Day, they, like many others, served so that we may live.

Bravo to the D Day heroes:

Saturday, June 1, 2019

Joe Everson

If you haven't heard of Joe Everson, you should have.  Amazing.

Amazing voice.  And amazing talent.

Thursday, May 30, 2019

Katie Hopkins On Fire

I've always been kind of middle of the road with Katie.  While I mostly agree with her sentiments, I was never comfortable with what I identified as her sensationalism.

And then there's this.  Katie on fire.

Plus I never knew she was and economist and a Sandhurst graduate (for you  'mericans, Sandhurst = West Point).

The video is almost an hour long.  But worth every minute of your time.

Wednesday, May 8, 2019

Industry On Parade

The title is from a 1960's television series. One of those Sunday morning documentary programs designed to fulfill the 'public service' portion of a broadcast license requirements. While extolling the virtues of American industry and business, with no labor unrest, no liability lawsuits, or environmental concerns. A sunny day in America.

A higher level of those was 'The 20th Century' as narrated by Walter Cronkite. It was higher budget and gave a very cursory review of history still within the memories of much of the populace. Again, with no discouraging words, no mention of Jim Crow, no word about the slowly devolving cities or the growing discontent among the young. Another sunny day, not a cloud in the sky.

But, that's neither here nor there. The point of this pointless exercise is to decry the industrialization of American healthcare.

Some may remember my episode of falling flat on my face last January. Since then, I've been to a few specialists, including a cardiologist associated with a large Pennsylvania hospital chain, spreading, ooze-like, across this state. Consolidating into larger building and turning smaller hospitals into band-aid stations.

They gutted the services available at my small town's hospital just one year after pushing news stories about how much better it was doing financially under the new ownership. After all, we're sure you won't bleed to death from that crushed femoral artery while we drive you in an ambulance across the highest point on interstate 80, at 2 am, in a snowstorm, dancing our way around jack-knifed tractor-trailers, and people up from Florida who don't yet realize that this white stuff on the roads is actually the traction equivalent of lithium grease on a mirror.

But hey, why should I care? After all I recently moved from my small home town into the neighboring big(ger) city which has the hospital that the ambulances now come to.

They've been engaged in a one-company building boom, adding a big, shiny new emergency/trauma center. In fact the very same one I released myself from, AMA, last January. Along with a new trauma center has come an amazing number of helicopter 'life-flights' - a certain number of which make a final approach directly over my house, daily. And nightly.

But hey, crushed femoral arteries wait for no man, right? But, that's really not here or there in my tale, either.

To segue back to my main point, such as it is.

I was referred to a local cardiologist, whose name and appearance simply do not come close to matching. An old English name mated to ancient Calcutta genetics. I do not hold that against him. He is friendly, he is intelligent, he is obviously highly competent and knowledgeable in his field. He was the one who ordered the EEG (no organic damage) and the week-long joy of a carry-along heart monitor which showed a pure sinus rhythm. Based on those, he switched around my BP meds, changing one that always worked for me into one that had my Blood Pressure cycling between 176/102 down to 124/81. Within 24 hours. In one day. Sigh.

So. all afternoon Sunday, I was having palpitations (what a quaint word for such a frightening occurrence) matched at time by dull pains in the center of my chest and sometime sharp pains in the center of my chest and upper back. The same continued Monday morning. I got myself up, showered, deressed, while ignoring shaving, and went to work. The manager demurred when I suggested she keep a watch over me in case of a major coronary infarction (I've always wanted to use that in a sentence) and sent me home, instead. Sigh, again.

I'd already had a follow up appointment with my cardiologist for 2 pm Monday, so I kept that, fluttering and twinging all the way. And NOW, we come to the point, finally.

I arrived for my appointment, was not kept waiting for long, and was taken in for the standard pre-examination things, weight, blood pressure, etc.

I explained to the office nurse about my wildly fluctuating pressures over the last few days, as well as all the dozens of chest twinges, flutterings, palpitations, etc. She seemed concerned and said she was going off to find my doctor.

Twenty minutes later he arrived, moving with the speed of a demented hummingbird. I started to tell him the same I'd told the nurse, he talked over me less than halfway through my first sentence. About the pressure not the heart, and added a second pressure med. I started again, and he again talked over me, dictating order for the nurse to type into my records. He apparently was listening to the extent that he diagnosed me with angina, as well as something else I did not recognize the name of.

He told the nurse to set up blood tests, and a chemical stress test. This to be done in two weeks. He offered nothing for the actual symptoms of the angina. As the nurse was getting things set up for the tests, I had two more jolts. Then two more as I walked back to my car. I could do nothing about them, as he'd done nothing.

Don't take me wrong, I actually like and respect this doctor. He is obviously very skilled in his field, as well as smart, funny and friendly. But what he also is, is far too busy to take the time to actually talk to his patients, even to the extent of minor reassurance.

I drove home, sat for a while, had another small jolt, ten called the cardiology office and fired him.

My Primary Care Physician is now scrambling to find me a cardiologist to replace him. It will have to be in a nearby town, as everyone in that field here is also associated with this hospital and cardiology group.

I felt, and feel, as though I was a product on an assembly line. That the whole purpose was getting me in and out with minimal time spent. I felt, and feel, as though my concerns simply did not matter, my fears were ignored, as were my symptoms.

Industrial Medicine On Parade.

Oddly, after firing them, I went for more than a full day without a single twinge or jolt, worked my regular hours Tuesday, and felt fine. I've had a couple very minor since then.

As of 12:16 AM on May 9th, my BP readings were 132/77 with a pulse of pulse 90.

I am going to post this with proofing, too tired.

Saturday, May 4, 2019

Control of the Marketplace

Note: in the interests of proper attribution I am giving the links in the open rather than using hidden links.

Standard Oil is considered the bogey man of monopolistic companies and its breakup under anti-trust laws in 1911 was considered long overdue. The company was founded in 1870 by John D. Rockefeller. Rockefeller surrounded himself with a number of outstanding associates and together they operated a company that emphasized “economic operation, research, and sound financial practices.” They bought oil directly in the field rather than from jobbers. They made efficient use of the oil, getting more kerosene out of a barrel of oil than did their competitors. They cut the cost of refining by about 85% between 1870 and 1885. For their efforts they were accused of predatory pricing.

Kodak put photography into the hands of the common person. They held a dominant part of the market for years. This put them in hot water on at least two occasions. In 1921 Kodak entered into a consent decree in which they agreed to rid themselves of what were called “exclusionary practices.” One aspect of that decree was that Kodak could not “private label” film — a restriction that is still in place. In 1954, Kodak owned 90% of the color film market in the United States. The price of a roll of color film included the cost of processing, giving Kodak control of 90% of the color film processing market by default. I don’t know if they are required to do it anymore, but I remember seeing notices on rolls of Kodak color film saying that the cost of the film did not include processing.

Years ago, during the “studio era” of Hollywood, the studios not only owned the means of production of films, they also owned many of the theatres as well. There were independent theaters, but the studios engaged in a process called “block booking.” That meant that theaters had to bid on a group of films. They could not just show a blockbuster, they also had to show whatever dreck the studio had made. Studios were found to have an oligopoly, where a small number of companies control the market. U.S. v Paramount Pictures 1948 resulted in studios having to divest themselves from the presentation end of the motion picture industry.

Today three companies have an oligopoly in the social media market. Google, Twitter, and Facebook all hold dominant positions of their particular markets. There is prima facie evidence to suggest that these three companies have engaged in systematic blocking of conservative viewpoints. Both liberals and conservatives have argued that since those companies are not government it can't be said that they engage in censorship.

I am willing to accept that argument. However, their control over the exchange of ideas cannot be overlooked. As shown, other companies have been broken up because it was felt that they had too much control over the marketplace. I strongly believe that the social media marketplace is also under the undue influence of a limited number of companies. I do not, at this time, advocate breaking up those companies. What I do propose is to declare those companies as “common carriers.”

The Free Dictionary says
A common carrier is legally bound to carry all passengers or freight as long as there is enough space, the fee is paid, and no reasonable grounds to refuse to do so exist. A common carrier that unjustifiably refuses to carry a particular person or cargo may be sued for damages.
In other words, if it isn’t illegal, then they cannot refuse to carry it.

In 1980, Barry Commoner ran for President. He knew he would not win, but he wanted to bring attention to his cause. To achieve this he made a radio commercial that used the word “bullshit.” That word used one of George Carlin’s seven dirty words, so how was Commoner able to use that, at least back then? Simple: U.S. broadcast stations did not have the right to control the content of commercials in races such as the Presidential race. They had to run that spot. They had no choice.

I believe that social media should have the same constrains placed on them. They are too powerful to have the ability to pick and choose what people say in the marketplace of ideas providing those ideas are not illegal. As demonstrated above, there is legal precedent that private companies can not do whatever they want.