Lately I have contemplated my beliefs and God. The following thoughts belong to me. If I offend you, then please defriend me or take whatever actions you deem necessary to live your life.
Hypocrisy : 1) a feigning to be what one is not or to believe what one does not; especially : the false assumption of an appearance of virtue or religion. I think a religious leader who makes more than $600,000 a meeting, seminar, etc., and does not say where the money goes fits the definition.
I believe true acts of charity remain anonymous. Those who brag about their good deeds seek attention for themselves not for the ones they say they helped.
Man's governments and rulers use religion to control the masses. We do not seem to learn from history and our mistakes. Each translation of the Bible, and there are dozens and dozens over centuries, reflects the thinking and biases of the translator or those who commissioned the translation.
Before we judge others, we should examine ourselves. If you believe the Bible, Torah, ancient writings, etc., how can you say imperfections reside in any of us?
I admire the zeal with which you believe. My relationship with God or a higher being belongs to me. I will not try to change you; do not seek to change me. I can want to learn. To learn, I need to hear everyone's viewpoint.
Everyone shares some common ground. If nothing else, we all fit the category of humanity. Let us emphasize our commonness and learn to overlook the flaws.
You have a permanent place in my heart, Dude.
Later.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Veggin' out
The foodie in me kicked in again. A full tummy means more strain on the lungs, so I am learning "grazing." I did not snack much growing up in the three-meals-a-day generation. So I ate big meals.
Eight to 10 meals a day pose several challenges:
I am working out many of the problems, i.e. fresh foods. I will budget money to spend weekly.
I discovered bosc pears. I experimented and devised this recipe:
http://livinthegoodlifex2.blogspot.com/
You are not the only one, youngin'
I had abundant hot water when I washed the dishes yesterday morning. Sometime before 5 p.m., we had no water at all. After dark, one of the maintenance guys told me no water until "tomorrow afternoon," meaning this afternoon.
Leaks continue because the complex needs a pipe transplant. Maybe we should conduct a fundraiser. The geriatric complex's health teeters on the edge.. The owners will let the N******** Apartments die a natural death.
No yahoo
I lost Yahoo Messenger yesterday. I am sure Google's changeover caused the disappearance. I will see if I can rectify the situation soon. Fortunately, I learned early on to save copies of messages, yours included.
I miss the fun we had in the EPL and the matches we shared. I miss your wisdom, your vulnerability, your bluntness without bite.
The CDF plans another event in Chicago. Your family wants my help to line up silent auction items. I need to organize a concise email and a list of restaurants and chefs to solicit. I also need a date or ballpark date. I am excited to help and know that excitement extends to you wherever you are.
Later, Dude.
Eight to 10 meals a day pose several challenges:
- After two days or so, the same foods becomes boring.
- Some foods do not freeze well.
- A low-salt diet eliminates some options.
- Buying once a month limits fresh foods.
I am working out many of the problems, i.e. fresh foods. I will budget money to spend weekly.
I discovered bosc pears. I experimented and devised this recipe:
http://livinthegoodlifex2.blogspot.com/
You are not the only one, youngin'
I had abundant hot water when I washed the dishes yesterday morning. Sometime before 5 p.m., we had no water at all. After dark, one of the maintenance guys told me no water until "tomorrow afternoon," meaning this afternoon.
Leaks continue because the complex needs a pipe transplant. Maybe we should conduct a fundraiser. The geriatric complex's health teeters on the edge.. The owners will let the N******** Apartments die a natural death.
No yahoo
I lost Yahoo Messenger yesterday. I am sure Google's changeover caused the disappearance. I will see if I can rectify the situation soon. Fortunately, I learned early on to save copies of messages, yours included.
I miss the fun we had in the EPL and the matches we shared. I miss your wisdom, your vulnerability, your bluntness without bite.
The CDF plans another event in Chicago. Your family wants my help to line up silent auction items. I need to organize a concise email and a list of restaurants and chefs to solicit. I also need a date or ballpark date. I am excited to help and know that excitement extends to you wherever you are.
Later, Dude.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Intermezzo
So, I was sick.
Connie called a few times asking questions and finally said she would bring me some soup. When I let her in and crawled back onto the couch, she asked if I had called Doc. I told her he was out of town and I had tried to call his colleague. This exchange was Jan. 3; the New Year's holiday fell on Monday. I called Doc on Tuesday. Connie called an ambulance.
The nightmare begins ...
I do not remember much of the ambulance ride, going into the hospital or seeing a doctor. I am not sure how long I lay in the ER before the doctors sent me to ICU. I do not remember the trip there or the shift to a bed, being connected to monitors or the nurse putting in the IV.
I saw this dude on the television, which was not turned on. He morphed into an image I cannot describe except I could not quite see the muted moving colors.
The chair in the room, which caught my peripheral vision, had a man sitting in it. I feared the man as a mouse fears a cat he can sense nearby.
I glanced out the windows and saw people looking in and floating on by, even though the distance from the roof below to my windows must have been 15 feet.
Now you see (and hear) them, now you do not ...
I could hear people talking. Women who I assumed were nurses talked about the man next door.
The man and his wife, who were in their 80s, were traveling across country. He fell, she tried to catch him with her walker and he died because the staff failed to see the blood on his back. The couple, who were wealthy, were transporting a Mustang, which had never been driven. The wife asked one of the staff where the car would be safe in Amarillo. One of the male nurses gave an address near the central part of town. I "heard" the pair had been semi-famous actors who lived in San Antonio.
Later, I heard the man had a stroke and died.
The ICU staff dressed up to perform a ceremony they did especially for the widow and her elderly friend. The women stood outside the room where he died while eating cake. A jockey-size man dressed in a silk football jacket with staff written on the back walked in front of a gurney covered by a velour blanket. On the blanket was a card the staff had made and some glitter. A pudgy, older gray haired nurse, who wore a gray suit, followed the gurney. She gave a eulogy.
Another man kept wailing because he had taken steroids all his life and became paralyzed when he was lifting weights and stretched his neck. He kept begging forgiveness.
One of the nurses got fired because of a secret life. In a drunken state, she shot her pimp outside a nightclub. She sat dictating her story to another nurse so she could remember details of the incident before the police took her in.
Another nurse, who was pregnant, sat just outside my door. She talked about teenagers and how they bragged about their baby mamas. The number of pregnancies became a status symbol, she said. She later held up wind chimes the size of pipes for an organ. She said thieves sat on rooftops near ATMs and listened to the beeps when customers did transactions. The youths then used the wind chimes to figure out the tones and subsequently the numbers punched.
I thanked a male doctor for coming so late in the night. He was clean shaven with long, dark curly hair, and dressed like the orderlies in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." He told me coming was his job.
A nurse tried to change my IV site in the dark. One of my youngin's came to take photographs while the nurse worked. The nurse must have hit a major artery because blood gushed and she yelled because she had no backup.
A nurse came in to tell me one of my friends called. At first I did not remember knowing her, then I denied I did. I heard one of the male nurses saying I was an undercover journalist trying to expose something at the hospital. His back to me, he mocked me and made gestures to the others while I watched.
I remained in ICU four days. I suppose I drifted in and out of consciousness. On the fourth day, I was moved to a regular room. Eight days later, Connie came to take me home.
Addendum ...
* The ambulance driver noticed my Tracleer, told Connie it was gold and said his daughter has PH.
* I never could spit for the lab to get a sample. They gave me a vacuum, it did not help.
* A couple of nuns came to visit me. One had had a stroke and just smiled. The other one told me we suffer to show others how to endure.
* A couple of Shriners dressed as clowns came by to try to get me to laugh. One had an "invisible dog" on a leash. He told me the dog was vicious. I reached my hand out to the leash and said, "You are not a bad dog, are you?" The one clown told the other as they left the room he had never had anyone do that before.
Moral of the story: Never wait until you are sicker to call the doctor. I will not.
Later, Dude.
Connie called a few times asking questions and finally said she would bring me some soup. When I let her in and crawled back onto the couch, she asked if I had called Doc. I told her he was out of town and I had tried to call his colleague. This exchange was Jan. 3; the New Year's holiday fell on Monday. I called Doc on Tuesday. Connie called an ambulance.
The nightmare begins ...
I do not remember much of the ambulance ride, going into the hospital or seeing a doctor. I am not sure how long I lay in the ER before the doctors sent me to ICU. I do not remember the trip there or the shift to a bed, being connected to monitors or the nurse putting in the IV.
The chair in the room, which caught my peripheral vision, had a man sitting in it. I feared the man as a mouse fears a cat he can sense nearby.
I glanced out the windows and saw people looking in and floating on by, even though the distance from the roof below to my windows must have been 15 feet.
Now you see (and hear) them, now you do not ...
I could hear people talking. Women who I assumed were nurses talked about the man next door.
The man and his wife, who were in their 80s, were traveling across country. He fell, she tried to catch him with her walker and he died because the staff failed to see the blood on his back. The couple, who were wealthy, were transporting a Mustang, which had never been driven. The wife asked one of the staff where the car would be safe in Amarillo. One of the male nurses gave an address near the central part of town. I "heard" the pair had been semi-famous actors who lived in San Antonio.
Later, I heard the man had a stroke and died.
The ICU staff dressed up to perform a ceremony they did especially for the widow and her elderly friend. The women stood outside the room where he died while eating cake. A jockey-size man dressed in a silk football jacket with staff written on the back walked in front of a gurney covered by a velour blanket. On the blanket was a card the staff had made and some glitter. A pudgy, older gray haired nurse, who wore a gray suit, followed the gurney. She gave a eulogy.
Another man kept wailing because he had taken steroids all his life and became paralyzed when he was lifting weights and stretched his neck. He kept begging forgiveness.
One of the nurses got fired because of a secret life. In a drunken state, she shot her pimp outside a nightclub. She sat dictating her story to another nurse so she could remember details of the incident before the police took her in.
Another nurse, who was pregnant, sat just outside my door. She talked about teenagers and how they bragged about their baby mamas. The number of pregnancies became a status symbol, she said. She later held up wind chimes the size of pipes for an organ. She said thieves sat on rooftops near ATMs and listened to the beeps when customers did transactions. The youths then used the wind chimes to figure out the tones and subsequently the numbers punched.
 |
| Image from Rotten Tomatoes |
A nurse tried to change my IV site in the dark. One of my youngin's came to take photographs while the nurse worked. The nurse must have hit a major artery because blood gushed and she yelled because she had no backup.
A nurse came in to tell me one of my friends called. At first I did not remember knowing her, then I denied I did. I heard one of the male nurses saying I was an undercover journalist trying to expose something at the hospital. His back to me, he mocked me and made gestures to the others while I watched.
I remained in ICU four days. I suppose I drifted in and out of consciousness. On the fourth day, I was moved to a regular room. Eight days later, Connie came to take me home.
Addendum ...
* The ambulance driver noticed my Tracleer, told Connie it was gold and said his daughter has PH.
* I never could spit for the lab to get a sample. They gave me a vacuum, it did not help.
* A couple of nuns came to visit me. One had had a stroke and just smiled. The other one told me we suffer to show others how to endure.
* A couple of Shriners dressed as clowns came by to try to get me to laugh. One had an "invisible dog" on a leash. He told me the dog was vicious. I reached my hand out to the leash and said, "You are not a bad dog, are you?" The one clown told the other as they left the room he had never had anyone do that before.
Moral of the story: Never wait until you are sicker to call the doctor. I will not.
Later, Dude.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Delirious: Or how I met Dante and others
The bizarre near end began in November with bronchitis. Doc ordered a round of antibiotics and prednisone. I took the prescribed germ fighter and promptly diarrhea came to visit. I quit taking the prednisone.
I felt kinda bad but Christmas came and went without a doc visit. Finally I admitted to myself I was not well. I had stayed in bed for six days. I felt so bad I did not eat. Then thirst overtook me. I drank distilled water because I did not have to get up. I use distilled water in my CPAP.
Clue #1: thirst = fever.
The weather changed and the heat was not on. (Previous days were hot.) I lay on the couch with a comforter and blanket covering me while wearing a nightgown and a long-sleeved shirt. I slept and slept.
Clue #2: cold = not good.
Then the vomiting began. The first time I made it to the kitchen sink. The next time I did not. The fourth time I got to the sink again. I brought a pan back with me to the couch.
To be continued.
Later, Dude.
I felt kinda bad but Christmas came and went without a doc visit. Finally I admitted to myself I was not well. I had stayed in bed for six days. I felt so bad I did not eat. Then thirst overtook me. I drank distilled water because I did not have to get up. I use distilled water in my CPAP.
Clue #1: thirst = fever.
The weather changed and the heat was not on. (Previous days were hot.) I lay on the couch with a comforter and blanket covering me while wearing a nightgown and a long-sleeved shirt. I slept and slept.
Clue #2: cold = not good.
Then the vomiting began. The first time I made it to the kitchen sink. The next time I did not. The fourth time I got to the sink again. I brought a pan back with me to the couch.
To be continued.
Later, Dude.
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