Angel Nurse

My stay in the hospital was no fun obviously, but there was a time when I felt like someone really cared about me. There was a point where I was bleeding my first night in and they had to do an emergency colonoscopy and endoscopy. My blood pressure was so low, I could not have anesthesia. I did not enjoy the torture. I could feel the hose the doctor used and feel them pushing it through every curve and cranny in my body.
I do not know which end was worse the upper or lower gastrointestinal track. The thing made me gag severely and the other just plain hurt every time they moved it in further or twisted it around. It is not a good experience.
There were three big people holding me down and making sure, I did not move, or that I kept the thing you hold in your teeth in place. Those people were effective, and necessary. Much of the movement was involuntary. The language was not horrible, but I was not G rated either. Didn’t get as far as R. They even had me strapped down on top of it all. That was not pleasant to have these people on top of me, and the restriction was irritating, but I really did not protest or mind. I knew what they were doing. Funny thing is I did not even hate the doctor running the hose. I knew she was doing her job. I did not like it and in the end was just begging them to take out the hose. They never found anything, through all the torture.
However, in that time that seemed to be an eternity, there was a female nurse there. I did not see her face; I did not know who she was or where she came from. I did not see her again that I know of. Through the entire process, she stroked my hand gently on the back of it. Even when everyone was telling me to just relax and concentrate on my breathing (how do you do that when your mouth is full of a hose and your gag reflex is going nuts?) she just gently stroked and patted the back of my hand.
Do not get me wrong I was miserable but too weak to do anything about anything that was going on. I even thought, so this is what it feels like to die. However, there was an angel nurse there. I wish I had her name. She seemed to genuinely care and try to make me feel better. I do not know if that is something they train nurses to do to calm people down (I was not agitated, just in pain), or if it is something she just did instinctively. Nevertheless, it was nice and made the experience less traumatic.
It is interesting even though I was very low on blood and blood pressure, I never passed out and I always was intellectually there, if not always able to speak. The only time I really went out during the whole ordeal was when they gave me the drugs to do so. I was not prepared or expecting that. I remember the whole thing. When the Paramedic wanted to get me to respond to him, I had my eyes closed and he wanted me to look at him. I did and I told him I was there and answered all his questions, I just could not move and wanted my eyes closed, and never passed out. I really appreciated too what the paramedics did, they had to get me down the stairs and I was just too weak to do it myself. They brought in a chair that rolled me down the stairs. I felt bad for them, but they did a great job too. I believe they saved my life. I hated the ambulance ride though, very bumpy. Picture yourself riding in the back of a pickup truck lying down.
I am almost back to normal, still a bit sick and dizzy, but up and about again. Thank you my angel nurse and paramedics.

Hospital Hell

I spent 10 days in the hospital recently. I don't recommend it. I can't figure out why it's necessary to wake someone up at 3am to weigh them. The nurses at the third hospital I stayed at would let you sleep, oh maybe three hours, then wake you up to puncture you, or give you a pill, or weigh you, or just to wake you up and chat. This third hospital also insisted on this very annoying tube down through my nose into my stomach. They wanted to make sure the bleeding wasn't going on there. I told them we had done plenty of tests and diverticulitis in the colon was the problem, but they still insisted on the nose thing. Not only did it give me a 3 day headache, but it accomplished nothing but make me angry and feel like I was going to puke any second. The one good thing that came out of it is I didn't have to drink a second gallon of this stuff called Go Lightly. That was like drinking a gallon of dish soap. I got even though. I asked the Dr. to at least give me something so the thing didn't irritate me. Morphine and some relaxer put me out cold. They pumped the stuff in and I pumped the stuff out the other end...but of course I was not awake, so they got to clean me and the bed up. Unfortunately the Dr. didn't get the joy of his results. I went a week without food or water. They wouldn't even give me ice chips for most of it. Finally some nurse had sympathy on me. I finally got a liquid diet on a Friday. First food since Sunday. Boy did that Jello taste good. But then they kicked me out. Food was suddenly OK. I was back that night and spent the weekend and most of Monday at the hospital that never sleeps. It's been about a week now and after 12 units of blood, I'm still pretty weak and dizzy when I walk around. But at least I can sleep longer than 2 hours, and the IVs are disconnected. Things could be worse.

Florida: Land of no people

I went to Florida and it helped my obvious depression. It was too hot, but it was somewhere else. The Gulf of Mexico was 85 degrees. I like warm water. I don’t know the temperature of the Atlantic at Cocoa Beach the day we went but it wasn’t as warm, but certainly nicer than the Pacific. The waves were bigger though. I thoroughly enjoyed the places we visited. We didn’t do Disney…they are just prohibitively expensive. Too bad I like the concept at Disney. They have finally priced themselves to the point I just won’t pay it. The Kennedy Space Center is very interesting. And there is a ride at one of the Universal Parks that was worth the trip by itself. The Spiderman 3-d was amazing. The best 3-d presentation I’ve ever seen.

The one thing I wondered while we were there is where do the people live? I came to the conclusion no one lives in Florida. Those who claim to are really shipped in from somewhere else or are robots. We did see one little town called Celebration. There were actual Town Houses there, and it almost had a feel of being a movie set. The place was clean and no one on the street, while doing its best to be a prop. There was even a police car on the side of the street, with no one in it. We went to see the Harry Potter 5 film at a small theater, with free refills on the popcorn and soda. We went the day after the movie release. It was a 2 theater complex. There were maybe five people in the theater with us. I could not believe the emptiness. Where I’m from you have to stand in line still to get into the show.

There was no one there from Florida. People from Scotland and England, and Poland, and Wyoming, and Ohio…there were no Floridians. So who created the voting problem in Gore vs. Bush? Where were all the Potter fans? The news said there was a small plane that crashed into a couple houses somewhere in Orlando while we were there. We saw some smoke. But we saw no houses anywhere. We saw an alligator and a lot of water. There were tons of tourists. Maybe that was the problem, no one really lives in Florida and so no one really voted. The ballots were not really punched at all. I think the place is a pretend state. I’ve seen thick woods in New York and Connecticut. But there if you drive around a little you at least see some houses nestled in the trees. I guess I wonder about everyone who supposedly retires to live in Florida, where do they go? There were a ton of people at Clearwater beach the day we went, but none of them were from Florida.

Is it possible that Floridians avoid the beaches and the tourist areas? I saw a commercial about some political proposition to do something for the residents of Orlando for a change, now they have created a tourist Mecca. I would have voted against it. The idea was to raise taxes on hotel rooms so that visitors would pay for whatever it was the locals wanted. I can’t pass judgment on that we have something similar going on here where I live, but if no one really lives there who is going to vote for the proposition? The tourist can’t vote. Sounds like taxation without representation to me. There was one place in Wyoming we found that was at least honest about its local population….2. We met the entire population of that town that day. They were surprisingly enough from Wyoming. Florida needs some towns like that. They need a place where the visitors can go look at Floridians. I enjoyed Harry Potter without all the crowds, but it’s un-American to sit alone in a blockbuster without a bunch of others. Maybe they take the Harry Potter is evil movement more seriously than I do. But I suspect that must be programmed into the robot locals, by some anti Harry person. The one real person who lives there must hate Harry. They probably didn’t even get the last book.

Somehow that seems weird to me. Harry has grown up with my kids. I love the series and the books. But I’ve also been told how evil I must be to enjoy such trash. Somehow that comes off hollow to me because that same source loves Disney, with their witches, dwarves, beasts, and a mouse who is some wizard’s apprentice. So maybe that is what happened to the Floridians, they weren’t blown away by hurricanes, they were put under a spell to remain hidden from the tourists. That’s why the prices at Disney are so high, the overhead necessary to maintain the spell. Which explains the warm water in the Gulf…Florida is really Hell. It explains how hot it was down there. It also explains why people retire to Florida and are never seen again. It is really Pleasure Island from Pinocchio where you go and have fun, but in the end you’ll just pay the taxes for the devils that are hidden from view, the locals. It is in the end the reason why Florida doesn’t vote well. They are really evil voters who are thrust to hell after their lives in New York. Don’t get me started about the evils in New York.

Tick Tock

Tick tock the game is locked and nobody else can play; for if they do, we'll take their shoe, and keep it for a year or two. Hickory, Dickory Dock the mouse ran up the clock, the clock struck one and down he run Hickory Dickery Dock. Time, where does it take us; towards death, and then what? Time is of the essence. The hands of time move as the world turns. There’s the timely death, time robbers, Time Barons, Time magazine, time to call it a day. His time was up .It’s Time to come home to papa, Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme (no wait that doesn’t belong here).
I sit and watch the clock go, while I wait for calls about my resume. Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick. The program 60 minutes has nothing on my wait. That stop watch ran out a long time ago. I ran out of time to wait. Yet it still marches on and there’s not much else I can do. You see after a certain age and certain amount of education, time is not on your side when looking for a job, because the game is locked. Good jobs are only for those who have them. And it can take a year or two to luck into something. I thought more education would make it easier to progress. I thought I could get a better job. But, I’m too old now. My experience isn’t in a good job area. So, I’m over qualified or under qualified, or have no experience. I’m no longer picked by either captain. I’m not last, I just can’t play anymore. Or so it seems.
So I watch the time go by. I have a lot of resumes to send every day. But as I’ve mentioned before, the phone just doesn’t ring. When it does its an insurance company wanting me to sell for them. I don’t want to sell insurance. Insurance is another game people can’t play, they can only pay. If you do play or don’t pay enough then you’re locked out and they keep your shoe…the money you spent with them they are investing and making more money than you’ll ever see with.
I watch my 1 year old and his biggest concern is who is watching him now. What can he get away with next? Where is his security blanket? Where is mine. Unemployment rots a marriage, because not only do you have no self confidence any more, but no one else in the family has confidence in you. Well the one year old does as long as you keep his pants changed. But it isn’t long before he will think you can’t possibly know anything. I’ve learned how to let them think that. It makes the teens feel better. I don’t have anything to prove anymore. I did my time in school and have a GPA to be proud of, but I can’t get a job because I don’t have “experience.”
Interesting thing about experience, you can learn tasks anywhere on any job, but you can’t learn that certain wisdom that comes with putting your time in. I don’t really care what position it is you had, as long as you had it, and learned from it. True there are some things that must be learned before you do them, but for most jobs you can learn that on the job and pretty quickly. How you survive in a job though, that is what experience brings you. That takes time. I’ve had plenty of time in positions of all kinds. But the game is locked. I’m not the best candidate because I didn’t do this or that or don’t know a certain program. The fact programs are easy to pick up and this or that is too has no bearing on the decision, but it is the measure.
I’d give up if I didn’t have to feed the family. The one year old is someone else’s major responsibility, but they’re playing in the game. So I get to watch him while their off playing. Me I’m watching the hour hand go around. Typing up my complaints for no one to read or care about, and waiting for my time to be up. I’m waiting for someone else to determine my fate. I can only look and network and apply. Someone else gets to decide.

A Chilling Tale

I get in my email…nearly daily now…someone having a fit over illegal immigration. I am not for illegal anything, but immigration is of course not only a hot topic, a fad topic, and a very difficult and hard to resolve topic, but it is becoming something of a hate issue. I get things in the mail saying there are so many illegal aliens in our prisons, so many have violent history, only so many really pick the crops (not as much as you would think), but then there are no sources, or just a general source saying such and such a newspaper has these facts. No one is going to check those unless they are involved in some way in the policymaking. Therefore, I can only hope they are somewhat accurate. Of course, the other word that always accompanies such emails is “chilling.”
This will chill you to the bones. If this is not chilling information, I do not know what is. These chilling facts are going to open your eyes. Send this email to all your friends and relatives so they can learn these chilling facts. I almost feel like its Eskimos who are doing the illegal immigration, and they are bringing chilly weather with them. The truth is of course they are coming from the other direction; the south instead of the north, so there is not much chilly about them…perhaps chili is what we are all supposed to feel. However, that gives you a nice warm fuzzy feeling, so I doubt that is the context.
No the real context is bigotry I am afraid. As much as the loud mouths want to make it, otherwise they really just hate Latinos. I have many friends and acquaintances from south of the border and quite honestly find them a lot better people than some of the white folk I know, who can’t stand the thought of someone else trying to better themselves. Now I am not here to endorse illegal immigration, far from it, but it is a reality and until wiser folks than I can figure out how to stop it, I am not going to participate in the bashing. It is a serious problem and it needs immediate attention.
I for one would like to see companies stop providing services in Spanish, and the Government needs to lead the way. I understand there is a need in some respects for some forms to be in Spanish, but if a company in the United States has to provide Spanish language services, and then they are not doing the country a favor. Should we expect people to learn English? Yes. Should we expect them to follow the law when coming to this country? Yes. However, until we have the national will to enforce such actions, we will continue to have the problem. I think the will is there among the electorate, but not with the politicians who have to cater to the Latino vote. Congress is where the backbone is weakest, and needs some type of brace to sure it up. However, bashing illegal immigrants and painting them as the villains of our time, is not the way to go about this. Instead of sending your bigoted emails to me, send them to your Congressperson. Let them sort out the will of the country. The problem is you are going to have to be rational and credible. So far, you are not showing that to me, and I do not even matter!
We are all children of the same God and we should treat each other with the type of respect that deserves. Helping them stay home and providing for their families is probably the best resolution. How that is accomplished, I do not know. We need to calm down our bigotry and bigots or we are going to see something akin to the 1960s riots or worse, a civil war.

The Nothing

Headache…pound, throb, hurt, can’t stand the noise, can’t stand the light, can’t stand my head. Aspirin doesn’t touch it. Sometimes analgesics work. Thump, Thump, Thump. I can’t get away from it. Put cold on it. That helps, but it’s still there. The caffeine is starting to work. It doesn’t hurt as much, but the pressure…yes the pressure is still there. I have relief, I still have a headache. Don’t feel like moving. Feel depressed in fact. Don’t want to think. I can’t think really. Want to sleep, but I’m not tired, thanks to the caffeine. I want to disappear, but I can’t, I have a headache. Every noise is so irritating. I don’t want to move. I don’t want this headache. It goes on for three days. Sometimes the pain is so unbearable I want to evaporate. Then it eases, but it still throbs. My eyes hurt. My skin hurts. My stomach is sick. I want to scream but that hurts. I sneeze and my head feels like it will blow apart. I wish it would and get it over with. I’m depressed. Nobody cares. No one should. I am not a winner like I grew up believing. I have talents no one wants. Please don’t let the phone ring, I’d have to move. I want to dissolve into nothing. I can’t kill myself; it would take too much effort. I’m a coward anyway. No one matters to me. Oh, my head. I’m a loser. I can’t win. I never win. I’m not worth the space I take up. I want to get out of that space, because it hurts. Not just my head hurts, I hurt everywhere. It’s not emotional. It is physical. I hurt everywhere but nowhere. Ice packs wouldn’t help. I’m hungry. I don’t care. Moving, well I know moving would help, but it hurts to move. I can’t see really. I’m too much inside myself. My head, my spirit is in there somewhere, but where? Looking deep for the spirit, maybe there’s some relief there. It hurts to pray. It hurts to think. Don’t think. All I can think of is I don’t like where I am. I can’t move. I can’t comprehend what I see and hear. It’s a black hole I am in and I can’t get out. I should get up and take the pill. I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I’m such a slug.
The headache it is gone, the pressure and pain are gone. I feel better. I still hurt. I can move. I can see. I can comprehend. I can move. Take the pill. Lie down to wait. Sleep. Awake. I don’t hurt. I can think. I can move. I am back. I am a child of God. My spirit is there. I can pray. I can give thanks. I work and produce. The next headache will come, but I don’t have to wait for it. I can function. I can hope.

Ring-a-ding-ding

I’m sitting by the phone. I’m waiting for it to ring. It isn’t. When it does ring, someone on the other end wants me to spend money. So for all intents and purposes the phone isn’t ringing, it’s mooching. I pay the bill, well I have until now, but since I’m not making any money right now (and Blogging doesn’t help much either)…I might not be doing that soon. Then the phone couldn’t ring. It’s not that it wouldn’t or shouldn’t but at that point it couldn’t. Ringing phones drive me nuts. I hate the noise and I usually don’t want to talk to whoever is on the other end. But I want it to ring now and it won’t. Why not? I pay good money for it to ring. When it does I’m getting nothing out of it but annoyances. So why won’t it ring for me?

When the phone rings at our house it used to be everyone would race to answer it. Now as the kids grow older the only person who really wants to answer the phone is my wife. It’s usually for her anyway. She has a lot of irons in the fire and everybody likes her. My oldest son has people he calls. But that isn’t usually constructive. Then when the youngest is home between him and his friends the phone is in constant use and ringing somewhere, but not for me, never for me. I don’t bother to get up anymore to answer it. I do have it sitting next to me during the day, hoping that it will ring. The only ring I want to hear right now is a multi-million dollar job offer. That won’t happen so a normal job offer would be a welcome ring.

When you think about it the phone ring is really a ring through your nose. It leads you around your life pulling you where it wants. I always thought a service was supposed to serve. Instead the phone ring dictates. Like a wedding ring when it rings you must be faithful and answer it, after all you paid for the thing. If you aren’t faithful and let it go to voice mail, you get the huffy who hang up after two rings, the people who have real and good reasons to call you, and those who hang up on the voice mail. Those who hang up on voice mail are the dregs of the world. They are too important to leave a message. I don’t want to talk to them anyway, so stop calling. Those who are too busy to wait for the four rings are too busy for me to care about, so I wish they would stop calling. Those who leave legitimate messages want to talk to my wife…so call her cell phone and leave me out of it.

I wish the phone would ring, but there are some conditions to it. I pay enough money for it that it needs to do its job…so I can have one. Otherwise, just don’t bother to call. My wife isn’t home anyway. She’s out working so we can pay for the phone I don’t want to talk on. I guess I’m paying for one phone call. You’d think the price would go down, it doesn’t. If the right phone call comes I can afford to keep the phone around, and eat, and have heat and all that fun stuff.

I wish the phone would ring. Any phone ringing would be nice, even the cell phone, which I never answer. Please don’t call me, unless you have a job for me. I’m too busy playing Bejeweled.