Show Us Your Guns!

Has 10% unemployment, three dollar gas, and arctic temperatures got you down, Spunky? Do what I do; go to a gun show. For seven dollars you can have your faith in America renewed.

I showed up at 9 am and the line to get in was 200 yards long. It was eight degrees and the wind was a nasty 10 mph. So we all lined up and huddled together like an Obama bread line. We looked like a rag-tag militia of armed Americans carrying everything from black rifles to Boer War Martini-Henry's.

When I got close to the door a handicapped vehicle pulled up with Vietnam Veteran plates. Two old guys got out (one was blind and the other walked with a cane). They looked at the line stretching half way to Terre Haught. I said to them "you get in line right here, no veteran is walking to the back of the line today". We finally made it to the doorway and felt the wonderful heat. The line moved slowly because everyone had to unload their firearms and have the actions banded. I really appreciated that because in a crowded place it's hard not to point a gun at someone.

I lucked out and found some powder I was looking for and some brass. I saw some old Enfields and Mausers I might have paid a hundred bucks for ten years ago going for four hundred dollars. I even saw my father's old 32 Smith and Wesson. Last time I saw that gun was when it went flying out the window because the cops were called to our door over a domestic argument.

It was better than a gram of Prozac. It was like the antidote for watching C-Span. I'm reminded of what CP says "no matter what happens in Washington our military is not going to turn their guns on us." I saw that today, as through a glass darkly.

2009 in Review

A great year:
10% unemployment
3 trillion in new debt.
5% inflation
10% drop in real estate value
crude oil $80 a barrel
3 terrorists attacks
2 U.S. automakers moribund
U.S. dollar approaching the peso
stimulus package creates 10 jobs
federal jobs increase
private sector jobs decrease
Olympics in Rio
ammunition scarce
medicare gutted
abortion federally funded
racial divide widens
policemen assassinated
jails emptied
congress for sale
president a Marxist
director of homeland security a moron
treasury secretary a tax cheat
unlimited bailout for fannie and freddy
borders wide open
supreme court justice a racist
mullahs with nukes
swine flu hoax
taxes on tanning beds
government owning banks
global warming blizzards
speech replaced by texting
language replaced by Twitter
life replaced by Wii


That's all I can think of offhand.

Healthcare Got Run Over By A Reindeer

The hospital becomes a weirder place during Christmas. I'm not sure if it's because it contrasts so much with the holiday spirit that bombards us everywhere else. I just know that things are going to get 'looney tunes" until the new year. There is an unwritten law that no one is supposed to die between Thanksgiving and the New Year's especially on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. This leads to a form of health care psychosis in the staff who realize that death and disease never take a holiday. It's bizarre the things that go on to avoid death on a holiday. These non-death holidays occur throughout the year but in December they morph into a season. I wish I could take off during this time to avoid all the emotional angst and return when the level of mental illness returns to baseline. I prefer the other 330 days of the year when people are not burdened with the expectation of this special season.

In the meantime I'll take a deep breath and realize that people will eventually return to normal on January second. Besides, there is enough desserts and chocolate laying around to give me a serotonin buzz.

Bo's Thanksgiving

Ben takes the best Bo pictures; he makes Bo look pleasant.

The Island of Misfit Christmas Trees

I heard my first Christmas Carol on the radio. It wasn't a real Christmas Carol per se; it was more on the order of Grandma Got Run Over By A Snowmobile. In a couple of weeks another seasonal tradition will begin: The Island of Misfit Christmas Trees. As soon as the turkey carcass is in the trash an army of people will descend on the factory grounds to decorate trees into collages of ridiculous themes that have nothing to do with Christmas. Every goofy group will be represented with the possible exception of the Satanist (there was an upside down tree one year). By the time this funky forest is complete it will draw people from all over to see everything from UFO's to Nascar portrayed in Balsam Fir. There is no amount of drugs that can prepare you to see a Christmas Tree with a plastic head of Jesus come out of the fog at 6 am.

Our town has decided the theme for its Christmas Parade will be A Green Christmas; pardon me while I puke. I guess the Area-51 theme was taken by Asheville.

Patients Bill Of Anesthesia Rights

The Patient has the Right to:

Have their anesthetic performed anywhere in the hospital (including the loading dock).
*No matter how overweight, have General Anesthesia in any position without a breathing tube.
*Be free of all anxiety, pain, hunger, nausea and stress (even if they are "ALLERGIC" to all sedatives, narcotics, anti emetics, gas, anti inflammatory drugs, oxygen, hypnosis and acupuncture).
*Be alert and able to quote Shakespeare within five minutes after surgery.
*Have any procedure including open heart surgery and liver transplant without an IV.
*Physically and verbally abuse the staff (including spitting, biting, scratching and punching).
*Have at least ten family members and friends present at all times.
*Quote at least a dozen articles they read online and in the tabloids concerning how to do anesthesia.
*List at least five family members who have been paralyzed by a spinal anesthetic.
*Eat,drink and smoke right up to the start of surgery.
*Wear all their clothes, jewelry, make up, acrylic nails, body hardware, dentures, hearing aids, wigs, glasses, hats, raincoats and glitter to surgery.
*Show up a day late at admitting and still get their operation.
*Refuse any preoperative test you ordered.
*Ignore any preoperative instructions.
*Drive themselves home.

Ah, Patients! The beloved enemy.

A HIPAA Free Zone

If you put four Southerners in a small room within twenty minutes you will have a an ice cream social without the fat. I'm sitting in my Doctor's waiting room with four other strangers reading the book I brought and waiting "for the call". I'm looking at the heavy older gentleman sitting across from me and giving him my ten second medical assessment. I notice the thin skin, the spidery veins on his cheeks and his overall "Mr. Clean" appearance. I automatically put him in the "sick" category and suspect he's taking steroids for something. Across from me there is a young lady about thirty five with that Northern N.J. transplant look. Next to me is a slender, no-nonsense looking thirty year old "power-chick".

I'm sitting there about two minutes and I can feel it coming. My guess is the old guy is going to kick it off, and he does. He is suffering from prostate cancer that has spread to his bones. The Jersey girl had lung cancer; and she never smoked a cigarette. The power-chick is a few years out from stage three ovarian cancer. I'm at a loss here because I'm sitting there with just a little hypertension ( I have to come by every three months for a follow-up in which my doctor checks my blood pressure and then talks to me for twenty minutes about my dog). Obviously I didn't need to bring a book. During the hour wait I probably talk more than I do in a week. I now know all about these people and the hour has passed quickly. Perhaps it was the lousy magazines or the lack of a flat screen, but somehow the boring waiting room has become a point of social interaction. The "Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act" (HIPAA) doesn't apply to a doctor's waiting room. It's not hard to understand. It's a Southern thing.