Whelp... that's the end of another tour, and about semantics

In the 'wonderful' Hospital World of Dizzy-nyland... And RenB wouldn't be RenB if he didn't wait too long and blow getting info at the last minute.... It IS Suday, after all...

Actually, I wouldn't have tried it at all... except... last evening I saw that a colleague had looked in and visited my blog. So I called over to the ho-tel, and it wasn't who I thought it was. Although another friend and former colleague, and we had a fairly longish chat. He is a communist, politically. And I was going ON, about my doubts and fears, and so on, because I am not getting information on Peter and the doctors, and rights, and so on.

'You go over there tomorrow and tell them you are his life-partner and demand some answers!'

Hmpf... Life-partner. Actually, after thinking it over, I sort of like that term, semantically, I do.

'Significant other' still smacks of hiding in the closet.... But 'life partner', yup, that is ok, sums it up and can apply to any two people who aren't 'married' no matter what the constellation. Yeah, it fits. Lebensgefährte, someone who accompanies you on your road in life... Nice word.

As I have often said, I do not have the legal right to learn anything about Peter's condition, but I thought, 'Ok, worth trying...'

As my Mom used to say, 'You got a tongue in your head... use it.' Often enough I have gotten so shut out, and I don't have the 'rage against the machine' in me, not like I had in the past, at any rate... But a bit of it still... a bit...

So I told Peter I was going out for a cigarette. Which I did not want or need. And marched down to the nurses' station. Only to find three attractive young women who looked like they should still be in high school. And said 'I am Peter's life partner, and want to talk to a doctor.'

Well duh... it is Sunday, and the one on duty didn't have timeto listen and symbolically hold my hand. The nice thing? Not one of them batted an eye. They were very nice. We had a little talk. I expressed my concern that this wasn't like the last times, y'know, the three amputations, the stroke, the heart attacks, the pneumonia, and explained that I have a very bad feeling.

And that not even our GP will talk openly with me, because it is against the doctor-patient rule, which I respect, but sometimes they can overdo it. It isn't as if I would sue him or something...

SO... nothing to be done today, but at least it wasn't hurtful, as has happened in the past... That is progress of a sort, wouldn't you think?

All I could think of was Keith Olbermann's mind-boggling special comment a few days ago. It involved having discussions regarding end-of-life care with patient and family. They have the same here.... except... I don't get the luxury or solace of sitting down and setting out guide-lines--- ever.

Yup... the thirty-five years do not count. How fucking wonderful, and how hateful.

And it isn't the people in the system. It is the government, and especially the 'Christian' Dems who have effectively blocked all this for decades. And apropos... big scandal in Admont, a priest who molested young boys over many years. My eyebrows don't even lift any more. Disgusting.

Bitter? Oh yes, I am bitter.

Tja... Peter kept thanking me for being there every day. Until I snapped at him, and said, 'Just stop it, ok? It wasn't anything 'special...'

Well, after a while, I had to get out of there. Last day or not. This stuff just drains me emotionally.

I took the tram back and stopped off at the supermarket there, which is open on Sundays to get something I thought I would maybe eat, not that I have much appetite these days. And to get back to semantics... a seventy-something dumpling of a lady asked me, 'Are you the last?' She meant: 'in line.'

And I knew that. But the devil got hold of me, and I said, 'Oh yeah, I am the LAST.'

Now, that would seem to be innocuous, in English, right?

However... in German it depends on the inflection in the way you say it. If you say, denigratingly, 'You are the last!' it means you are a piece of shit and deserve to be ground down under someone's heel. Otherwise it can mean 'are you the last in line?'

The poor woman got all flighty, and said, 'No, I didn't MEAN it that way!' And I smiled and said, 'I know, it sort of got to my funny-bone, and I am sorry. I've had a bad day, sorry.'

And she went off into giggles, and said, 'Oh I was so worried... people nowadays can be so rude.'

And I said, 'Yes, I know.... and I guess all we can do is try to be civil to one another.'

There was silence till we got out of the check out. And I said, 'I wish you a very pleasant Sunday.' She wished me one too.

Tja... semantics. Words can often have many meanings, and the inflection of how they are said can be an insult or a compliment. Language can be dangerous, believe me.

Just another friggin' day

visiting the hospital...

With an unpleasant surprise when I got there.....

To find an empty bottle of Coca-Cola Lite on his side table. Uh-huh...

To help the unititiated understand, that shit has more sugar in it than anything you can think of, and it may read 'Lite', but the only thing worse is the regular stuff... and one liter of the latter has the equivalent of 70 sugar cubes in it, and Peter has diabetes.

So you can imagine my ire, and I had a 'suspect' in mind... the son of a freshly arrived patient across the way, and the guy was out in the corridor. (More on that in a minute...) So I told Peter I was going out for a cigarette on the balcony, and confronted the guy. 'Excuse me, but did you get that man in bed number four a Coke??? Because he has diabetes...' He was clearly taken aback, and surprised, and said no, he hadn't. So I excused myself for bothering him. He has some serious worries, believe me.

He said I should talk to someone at the nurses' station, which I was planning to do anyway. So I marched over there, told them what I had seen, and one of them said, 'We know, that is why we can't get his blood sugar down.' And I said, 'Well, he isn't getting that shit from me, the worst thing I bring him is a mild corfee with extra milk. Keep an eye on him, because I can't figure out WHO he is bribing. It isn't as if he can get up and run around on his own...'

Upon which they sort of laughed. Swell.

Yeah, just call me 'bull-dog'.

Now, about the new guy in the room. He is SO badly off, it hurts to look at. Just out of intensive care station after being there three months, and I cannot figure why he still isn't IN intensive care. His son seems to be mid-thirty, and is ALWAYS by his side. Oh, he'll go out, and make a call on his cell, or just get some temporary relief, but I already feel sorry for the guy. His Dad is so frail... His son sits there and reads the newspaper to him.

As much as I HATE hospitals... they do have a tendency to put things into relative perspective. I know that sounds odd. Peter can converse half-way cogently still. And then I see those other two, and think, 'well.... it could be worse....'

And I feel sorry for his son. And that guy is listening to what we talk about, and must think we are fully nuts. 'I ratted you out at the nurses' station'. 'You did that before, and it didn't help.' 'Well grow up, for Chrissakes!'

They had a new arrival in Bed Number Two. Long questionnaire from the nurse, very professional, and Peter muttering imprecations the whole time. She told the guy he has to stay in bed. And off the guy went, meandering ten minutes later. And Peter says, 'Look at that, they dress people like Kasperls (Punch of Punch and Judy, read: clown.) And I said, 'Well what did you expect hey, Armani?' And he comes back with 'No, Karl Lagerfeld.' Whereupon I said, 'You are SUCH a brand-name whore.' The son across the way nearly choked. It's our Abbot and Costello act.

I was still upset, so I went to the balcony... and missed the newbie getting caught in the act of wandering around the corridors, and getting a super-vile dressing-down by the nurses who slapped him into bed, and hung up a sign above him: 'ABSOLUTE BED REST'.

Oh, how that brought back memories! (They have one for relative bed rest as well, there are stages.) I had ABSOLUTE for eight weeks once. And I was fairly good at it, using the bottle to pee... but crapping in a bed pan? I tried it... once. After that it was, 'NO FUCKING WAY..' So I would wait, and as soon as the coast was clear, would race out to the WC, and it was such a reilief...

And I always got caught returning to my prison/bed. Man, they could just freak out, it was amazing. I'm sorry I missed this one, but maybe better so, I probably would have broke out laughing.

Then a nurse came in... with some pills. Anti-biotics. It was crass, he went fully 'Nope, no way, not gonna take them.' And demanded to talk to the head nurse, who was certainly gone for the day. And I said, 'Oh, for chrissakes, it is just a pill, not gallons of IVs!' (He got those after his last heart attack, and getting four liters of that shit a day. They gave him uncontrollable diahhrea, and he is afraid of a repeat performance.)

I was really, really irritated. 'Don't yell.' 'Hey, when I yell, you are going to KNOW it.'

Cracked the son of Bed 1 up...

I said, 'Listen, I am going out on the balcony. Think about it.' 'Are you leaving?'' 'No, am coming back--- and that is a THREAT.'

Son of bed nr. 1 choked on imaginary food....

Tja, somewhat later I left and came home. Not before politicising with my tobacconist, and getting something to eat for this evening... Hardly home, the phone rings. Did I get home ok? Tja, would I be answering???

Ten minutes later... the phone rings. Seemingly, there was a problem with the nurse, and his taking an antibiotic pill. 'Should I take it?'

(through clenched teeth....) Peter, it isn't liter sized IV's that will give you diahrea. It is small. They won't make you get the shits, so just TAKE it... OK?? Just take it.'

'Ok...'

Sigh...

Nice to know I have some sort of influence...

Just another day at the hospital. Tja...

I did see a fun thing on the way home in the streetcar.... A ca. ten year old kid with a unicycle. That was 'odd'.... In a brown hoodie, no less. Man, how 'cool' can you get, hey... But he topped it... yup, the kid did. Just before his stop, he got ON the unicycle at the streetcar door, and when they opened, he jumped out on it, and cycled up the street. Austrians are sorta kinda crazy. But it made me smile, when smiling wasn't on my agenda. Cool...

I would like to see...

Marsha Blackburn bitched-slapped into the next century. If you go into a debate, you should be prepared, and not armed with empty rhetoric, and terribly faulty logic.

The live-feed just ended. And the president did a magnificent job of actually putting down most Rebublican idears on 'health care' without being offensive or devisive.

I didn't hear it all, but there was a lot of Repub whining, while still trying to portray themselves as so caring to their base... it was pretty sickening.

The last ten minutes of this 'Volksfest' was interesting. Obama summed it up, really gave out some hits at people even if it was not so overt, and whaddaya know..... something might happen.

'Turtle Man', aka Mitch McConnell looked like a slapped puppy. That was nice...

But I didn't make any popcorn. It was 'interesting'.

The whole process disgusts me. An interesting aside... the House of Representatives have passed 290 bills, that only need to be passed in the Senate, and they are just sitting there, and many of them passed in the House with lots of Republican support. Many of them are important. So what does THAT tell us, huh?

I hope that something good comes of this.... too many people are hurting badly, and there are too many assholes out there, and I don't mean just the Repubs.

Oh, it is so much fun...

Watching all these ass-hats returning from break and being all 'high school'.

Amazing....

I would like to throttle them. Symbolically.

Ooo... what the hell is going on here???

I have the live feed from the so-called health-care summit.

They just broke, because the members had to go vote on something. Really.... ????

And all I can think of is Bruno Kreisky. He was the Best.Chancellor.Ever.

He was a Socialist. And he compromised in a way that was odd to me.

The first week I was here, he came out with a law that all school-books were to be free of charge. Even for the rich.

It was the subject of discussion with my friend's family, who took me in, and made me feel at home. And I really didn't get it, not then, not now. And I thought, in my naivité, that it was WRONG. That they were supposed to help poor families kids so they could keep up with the rich ones....

But that was naive.... And these people kindly told me that you make comprimises.

I was so without a clue as to politics, and they were 'Christian Dems', of the good sort.

After listening to the suck-up stuff on the live-feed at the health-care summit today, two very famous off-the cuff-remarks of our late Chancellor came to mind. After getting the most assinine question I have ever heard, he called the opposition 'Mastdarmakrobatiker', as regards their tactics. (Lower intestinal acrobats). And so far, what I have heard, are Mastdarmakrobatiker. From the oppostion, whiners and paid idjits.

And late in his career, he got another one when he was very testy, and grouchy, and the question wasn't founded in fact? 'Lernen Sie Geschichte, juner Mann...' 'Learn your history, young man. He didn't tolerate superficiality. Everyone loved him. Mostly..

It is very interesting, to see what the people America paid to represent their 'interests' do. Because they are NOT representing their interests in most cases, but mostly their pockets.

Tja.... it is interesting. Peter wants to know what I am watching on this issue, knows that I have been very active in some ways, and it fascinates/fascinated him so far...

I never know from one day to the next what he will remember....

Mensch, mensch, mensch....

The past couple of days haven't been very good.

Gamlitz... holy crap. Peter will be transferred to a place in Gamlitz. Because there aren't any open places for three months in Graz or the periphery. Gamlitz is south of here, and west of Leibnitz. It is near the Slovenian border. Tiny village. Some of you have ridden through it on the Weinstrasse, it is a blip on the map.

Social Services is really pressing him on it. The hospital isn't doing much and he's taking up bed space, and that is a bad sign. This is where he will be. Link here. In German, but you can check out the pictures....

Getting there per public transportation is going to be a bitch, and cost-wise, I will probably be able to get there once a week.

They told him it would be a three-month stay, to get him strong, so he can go back 'home'. Hope dies last...

Right....

All the signs point at 'Endstation'. And everyone in the nephrology dept. have been very kind to him, and he isn't doing his usual 'rage against the machine' number the way he did last time. He got so 'mild', says 'thank you' for small things. He's never done that, ever.

All the fight went out of him lately, and his voice has somehow gone off the past few days. It got weak.

I am NOT happy with what I see regarding his general condition, and there will be reasons they are going light... but I cannot, am not allowed to discuss that with the personell there.

Last night, Keith Olbermann had the special comment to end all special comments, nearly fourteen minutes long. Tea-baggers in Dallas challenged him to verbally spar with them, and he declined because he could not leave NY, and they called him a coward for it.

His father has been in intensive care in a NY hospital for the past six months. And he described in the most graphic way, what that had been like.

It made me cry, because I so know the feeling, but his experience is so far worse than mine, even in the darkest, most horrible experiences. His father asked him to kill him. Keith had an ulterior motive for putting out his very, very personal experiences on national television. He is not an exhibitionist, and wasn't self-pitying. And I haven't been putting all this out here because of some exhibitionistic streak. It was about health-care reform, and end of life discussions with family and doctors, and being prepared for whatever life is gonna deal you.

And called them 'Life Panels', not death panels....

If you hear one thing in your life, call up 'Countdown' from yesterday, and listen and watch that, because it was extraordinary.

I don't know how he got through it without breaking down.

I guess he's got a lot of stamina.

Back on the home front... I had gone and withdrawn fifty Euros from his account and put it in his drawer in the table near his bed in his wallet. Said he 'needed' it. He wanted me to take some loose change, and get him a coffee from the vending machine today. All that was left was 20 Euros.

So I asked. 'Where did the other 30 go?' And he hemmed and hawwed.... And said he had had such a gusto, he ordered a piece of Strudel from Café Sacher delivered per Veloped. Uh-huh... He 'forgot' that he told me his former neighbor had visited the night before, and said neighbor had lent him money when both he and I were maxed out. For food.

Somewhere inside, I found it sort of funny. He'd rather rat himself out for his addiction to sweet things than rat out his friend and former neighbor. Who is actually a nice person, met him once...

Am listening to a live feed of the so-called 'health-summit'. I haven't heard so much slime and hypocrisy in decades.

Horrible.

End analysis? I am LIVID.

I get NO information, I cannot ASK anyone what the fuck is going on, and WHY they aren't doing what they usually do, or what the prognosis is, or 'have that talk' and get ready if this is the end-game.

Just shut out. Game over.

I can visit at will... oh, what a 'comfort'.

This isn't fucking good.

I can watch it from the highest seat in the bleachers, with binoculars.

And that is how things fucking ARE.

Whelp, that didn't take too long....

Right down the memory hole. There is so very little news regarding the last Supreme court decision regarding corporations. Why? Not so sure...

Except it will make a huge difference in the next election cycle, and the people, the voters, will become so disenfranchised, they won't have a say in anything. Too much going on for the 'media' to cover it. But hey, they can go on and fixate on Tiger Woods, and his faux apology, (probably written by Nike), and WOW, that is 'news' that even stopped Wall Street trading. Uh-huh...

In other news, a look at the future if the GOP gets their way. The newly elected Republican governor of Virginia rescinded their anti-discrimination laws on hiring and housing, and so on. The link is here, and the focus was on gay rights issues, but the full text includes race, sex, sexual orientation and other things. What are they gonna do next, reinstate separate drinking fountains and wc's, and begin to re-segragate people? Women can be denied a job because they are women? African Americans or other people 'of color' don't have a chance despite qualification? It sucks.

That was shocking to me.

On the home front: I STILL get really angy--

Every morning I go out and get cigarettes and 'breakfast'. And there are swarms of little kids running around getting their school 'lunches'. And I do mean a LOT of little kids in the supermarkets. And I get angry when I think about their 'parents'. My parents were both often working, but every morning, you had your little brown paper bag, and your lunch in it. And it was nutritional. These tykes can get split into two groups. The ones who had some sort of nutritional coaching from their parents, and the ones who know no boundaries, the latter being buying high-sugar sodas, candy, and nothing else of any value. And tend to be overweight already. The ones who buy sensible lunches are normal in weight, and they tend to ask for the receipt to show their parents so they can see what they bought. The hypers do not. It is just something I have been observing the past months.

It irritates me to the max. It created a bond, like being home for mealtimes, and your family would interact. And even as a child, you knew that you probably didn't have the 'coolest' thing in your little paper bag, but you knew that it was the best they could do, and good for you.

When I first came to Austria, Everything closed at 12 noon, and re-opend at 2:30 p.m. Yeah, that was sort of 'weird' to me at first. But do you know why? So that families would go home, make a major three-course nutritional meal, and then go back to work. Evenings were just snacks, bread and cheese, or some other small thing. And that model is probably the best I had seen up to that point. And probably the most sensible solution. Big meal midday, snack in the evening...

Today, we got Westernised. If you work, you get a half-hour to grab something, and get back, and commerce goes on and on... give me a break, hey.... and get home and don't have the energy or the will to do what was done back then. I do not see that as progress, on the contrary.

Because a lot of those little kids I see running around in the supermarket in the mornings are going to become diabetics. Tja, how fascinating... and tragic. Sometimes, I feel like someone from a parallel universe, and wonder when it happened, you know?

What was the pivotal moment?

As to diabetics... well... social services called me today. Frau Schlachter. The name means 'Slaughterer' . I don't trust her. She needs a bank statement of how much his pension is, and how much rent he pays. Yahoo, hey. She is someone you get an instant animosity toward, believe me. But she is in a branch outside the central office.

Peter won't let me bring his bank report to show her... because I am pretty sure he isn't paying his rent.... I have been on his arse for over a decade now. 'GO to your bank, have your running costs automatically deducted, and what is left is what you fucking HAVE for the month, and LIVE on it, for Chrissakes! You do NOT get bills, or have to remember to go to the bank to pay them on time, and not have to WORRY.'

Well, I have a wall in front of me in back of my pc, and I could talk to it and get the same friggin' reaction, hey... it ain't gonna answer any time soon.... And banging my head on it won't help... all I could get from that is a concussion.

Whatever--- he goes from hospital to a nursing home for three months, 'and then he can go back home'.

WHAAA?

(And I am thinking, 'this can't be true, this can't be true'...)

I wanted to ask her if she were out of her fucking mind... but she hasn't seen him recently.

Struggling to find simple words.

Then being cogent, and then slipping. There are DAYS, Preciousses, when I just don't know if I can do this any more. But that would be cowardly. Got stopped like the speed bumps they put in at the county horsepital to keep the waahmbulances from going so fast.. (I guess...)

There are DAYS, when I look at the world around me, and really don't want to know what is going to happen next.

And there are DAYS... I really do not want to be here any more... I do not.

damn, damn, damn....

Avendia....

Is one of the most widely used medications for people with Diabetes II. And the FDA just issued a warning that it can cause heart attacks, among other things....

The report was on 'Nightly News with Brian Williams' yesterday.

For quite a while now, one of the posters on Americablog who lives in Paris has been going ON about the FDA, and how there is no regulation, and they dropped the ball some years ago. Seems he was right...

The thing is... the pharmaceutical company that makes it sells it world-wide, only under other names in other countries. It is a big seller. So guess who is going to his favorite apothecary tomorrow? This guy is exceptionally nice, even delivers way across town if a patient can't get to him. And he has this book for tourists in trouble, who lost their meds, and need a prescription filled? And if you give the english name for it, he can find out what the german name for it is. Really, have done that for some of my US guests in the ho-tel.

I don't know if he will tell me if he filled a prescription of that for Peter. Even tho he knows that we are very close. Confidentiality rules bind. As it should be. However... once I find out what the equivalent is, I can always go to our GP and inform him.

Today was a downer... Peter called at 8:40... 'Good morning, how are you?' Yadda, yadda yadda. 'Am leaving at eleven to fetch your mail, and then bus over to the hospital.' 'Good.' 10:15... 'Good morning, how are you?' 'Errrm, Peter, you already called and asked me that...'

'I did? I forgot, I guess...'

Tja.

Yesterday, the whites of his eyes were clear, and he was perky. Today? The left one was bloodshot on the right side. And he had a big black and blue mark on his left bicep. So I asked, 'what the hell is THAT???' And he said, 'Oh, they gripped a bit too hard lifting me.' (in a tone of 'no big deal'.) My first impression was that they gave him and injection and missed the first time.

Am not happy about that, whatever it was, no Preciousses.... not at all.

To top it off, one of his letters was from the Pension people, and they informed him that his pension would be attached, for a tee-vee service he never had, and it didn't phase him at all. Bottom line? ONE THOUSAND, ONE HUNDRED SIXTY THREE Euros. I only saw that because he couldn't open the envelope himself.

I freaked. 'Jeebus, Mary and Josef, what the FUCK were you thinking of???? I told you to cancel that a year and a half ago! Because it didn't work, fer gawwd's sake!'

And he doesn't care.... just doesn't care....

Am gonna go bang my head against a wall for a while now.. maybe knock some sense into it. Who knows...

I really do hate Sundays....

errm... say what? The public option is back on the table?? MORE Kabuki?

I haven't done much posting on health care reform, because I thought it was dead.

And all of a sudden, it is back into consideration after the greediest, biggest, private insurances thought they were safe, and hiked premiums up 39% and above because they thought they had won????? And that people would go along with it, and just take it or drop out and be uninsured?

Alan Grayson was right. 'Don't get sick. And if you do, die quickly.' How very succinct. Wellpoint is dropping ill people from their coverage as fast as they can to make even more profits.

If Dickens were alive, he'd get another aneurism for 'outrage'.

I don't trust all this posturing any more, I really do not. Tja, elections are coming up, and despite what John Bonehead Boehner says, a majority of Americans want to have a choice. Polls show that... It is all over the internets, and am sure the polls are correct.

And Washington is just spineless. This past year has disgusted me, and I have good reason to compare.

My friend Peter is in hospital where I am. It was 'five minutes to midnight', he was told, and I had to fight like never before to get him to agree to go there.

I'm not relating this to garner sympathy, or anything personal. Really not. I have a point to make.

As I have often explained, we have a single-payer system, and have explained how it works.

A public option is a good start toward getting things in balance.

As I write this, there are hundreds if not thousands of people who are losing their insurance, incurring costs through co-pay, and going bankrupt and not able to afford seeing a doctor. That is fact.

I had a mail with a series of questions regarding my friend, and they floored me. Regarding the sanitary conditions at hospital, and were they leaving him in his own defecation, being disrespectful, and on and on... She has had some very major surgeries, and I never want to be in a place where she was, if that is the case. Some of those questions shocked me.

To the point where I was just fucking speechless.

So.... to answer the questions.... I go in at different times of the day. And no matter what time I go in, everything is very very clean, and his bedding is always pristine. The personell is very kind to him, and polite, and never impose on his privacy or what he wants. They don't put up with 'shenanigans', and remain polite even still. They are professional, and you can see they aren't exactly thrilled to change his urine bottle... but they are good to him.

I have no issue whatsoever with the care he is getting.

He started getting physiotherapy to make him stronger so he can get out of the bed and into his wheelchair by himself.

He will be 71 next month... if he makes it.

And he won't get a bill... or be financially hurt by it. Which is why I am even writing about this.

I think.... after watching this kabuki for more than a year.... it is all grandstanding and worrying about being re-elected, than really DOING something, and it makes me really angry.

And for all the talk about 'oh, that is Socialism', thus BAD?

Humbug. Socialism is not communism.

And I like what Bernie Sanders is doing.

I hope this isn't a Kabuki move....

ugh.... da media...

For a month or so now, have been clicking in to the 'Morning Joe' programm on the internets. Former Senator Joe Scarborough mouths off ALL of the time. It is 'conservative', but he's an ass-hat, in my opinion. And interestingly enough, he has a lot in common with 'liberal' Chris Matthews, aka 'Tweety' in some ways. Both of these show hosts seem to demonstrate what is wrong on that side of the aisle.

Both seem to have been close to power once, and never got over it. They just do not. And half of their shows reference the 'work' they did in the House and Senate.... in the 90's. When the Clinton health care proposal died.... and oh boy, are they so full of themselves.

'Tweety' thinks he is a 'liberal'. He's a diabetic, said so himself, and that explains his odd behaviour, so I can understand why he reacts the way he does sometimes, but he is sort of pathetic.

Scarborough is a blowhard, and I want to stick with him right now. He lurvs to apply his experience from his 'glory days' to current events. It is like listening to the high school football star missing his moment in the spotlight and then having to be a used car salesman.

His 'partner in media crime' is Mika Brzinzski, daughter of Zbigniev. She got relegated to being the one who can never get a word in side-ways, denigrated to saying, 'Oh wow', or 'stop it', and you would have to believe she has cotton candy between her ears, except here and there she gets a zinger out, and I would think she is not so superficial as one might believe. And probably more liberal than she lets on. Having to work with that blowhard (Joe) every day can't be fun. And the show is sponsored by Starbucks, so hey, corporate interests at work.

Lately, they have been having panels with the spaced-out, absolute intellectual lightweight Peggy Noonan. I believe she wrote speeches for her idol Ronnie Ray-gun. I don't know what was in the Kool-aid she was given, but she sure drank it all up. And never got over it. It is excruciating to listen to. The most spaced-out woman I have ever heard...

The show I saw today involved the CPAC convention in Washington. It was the oddest thing I have ever seen....

After a while, I wanted to turn it off, but couldn't in horrified fascination. Who ARE these people, and why do they have this sense of 'entitlement'? I worked for someone like that, so it hits home, it really does. People living in their pasts, and running about telling everyone how much EXPERIENCE they have, and running over their credentials constantly.

It's like saying, 'I was important...... once.' And they can't get over it.

And yes, that is the feeling I get when I take a look in at Hardball or Morning Joe.

And why would I bother watching, you ask? Peter's adopted 'mother', who left everything she had to him, grew up as Austrian in what is now Slovenia. Our chambermaids were mostly from there, and she would report everything they said, but she never spoke the language with them, although she could have. And my friend asked her why she would do that?

She said, 'You have to know the language of the enemy.'

I always thought that was a clever. if sneaky answer....

And that is why I check in with those people.

But sometimes the above people make me want to throw bricks at them.

And oh yes, their network is decried as 'liberal'. Uh-huh.

I recently re-connected with a dear friend...

It is too long a story to go into. I am just happy, that I heard from her after so long a time. And she forwarded me a video clip from 'Britain's Got Talent', which is like 'American Idol' and the dreaded Simon Cowell is on both juries (!!!!), and asked WTF??? I'd seen the clip. It was a counter-tenor. Way back, like in the 1700's, 1800's, there were 'castrati' in opera. Yes, kids would be castrated before their voices broke, and some of them were like today's rock stars.

Turned out not to be necessary. There was this guy, Klaus Nomi from Berlin in the late 70's early 80's, who was a counter-tenor. But he didn't sing opera. He was this 'thing' from outer space who shocked, but had a pristine voice. And just as he was catching on world-wide... he died.

Seemingly, he went under my friend's radar at the time. So she didn't know the context. Meanwhile, there are three counter-tenors that I know of, but they only sing those roles in operas which were written for the castrati. It can be a bit unnerving. But Klaus Nomi took it to the top, and I think enabled them to have respectable careers, as unnerving as it is to listen to sometimes.

Here is what she sent... and then the original.

Ash Wednesday... hmmm.... just another horriday?

Seemingly....

Peter wanted a 'red' herring salad, as he suddenly knew what day it was. So I brought him a small container of it to hospital. It is herring, and onions pickles, some cut beets, and mayonnaise,very tasty. His coordination is not so good, but I try to let him do it himself... And only do things like opening up an apple sauce jar, or the stubborn new caps they have on milk cartons, stuff like that....

And, of course, he spilled a bit on his johnny. Just as a rather robust woman came in to mop the floors. And she overheard, and just grinned from ear to ear. Because I said, 'I saw that coming, and NOW you're gonna get it, and they will ban me from visiting.' She kept mopping, and I offered to get out, but she said, 'No, dear, you just sit there, and lift your feet.' Which I did. Peter was just finished, and for some reason, there is no waste basket to be seen, so I wanted to dispose of it in the one next to the corfee machine in the 'visitor's room', and she winked and whispered, 'Give it to me, I'll get rid of it', smiling all the while...

I went out and thanked her.

So far, and I have been in lots of hospitals, I have never seen such competent, understanding personell as where Peter now is. And friendly, and kindly.

There are new people in his room. One of them is very funny, although he is on dialysis every day. He seems to be fairly cool. The second is probably worse off at the moment. Very quiet, but his wife is nice and caring, and his daughters are funny. The fourth is non-communicative.

Gawwd, I hate hospitals.

Now comes the bad part. I got home, and found a note scribbled on my lap-top from W. Y'know, the French Foreign Legion guy. 'Please call me'. Uh-huh.

He still has some stuff in my apt. and a month ago I told him to take it and get the hell out of my life. But he still has the keys.

Oh, he didn't take anything, but with all the uproar, my place looks like a nuclear bomb struck it, because I am always running.

It is pretty bad. And the depression didn't help any. And you know how it is, you get in, emotionally exhausted, and look around and don't know where to start, and you say, 'Will start tomorrow.' Which is the worst thing you can do.

What can I say? I went from fastidious to slob....

Interesting....

After a day full of bad news, I tried to distract myself with 'good' news. Somehow I landed on Bill Moyer's Journal, a PBS broadcast. His guest on the 12th was Bill T. Jones, an incredibly gifted dancer and now choreographer who specialises in modern dance.

http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/02122010/watch.html

I like Moyers' show. He is a thoughtful and very interesting interviewer. And I like Jones' choreography. And I once had the good luck to see Arnie Zane here in my little burg, who co-founded the dance troupe with Jones, and was an astounding dancer. Zane died waaay too young.

Jones has a new programme out about Abraham Lincoln. The 50 minute video was fascinating, just what I needed to take my mind off of ugly things. With lots of clips from the program. (I love modern dance... if it is done without endangering the dancers like the horrible John Forsythe ...)

The interview was very illuminating. And surprising, the connections Jones made to our era, and back then. It isn't what you would think someone would do in that context. And about a lot more than just Abraham Lincoln...

I'm going to have to bookmark that site so I don't forget to watch again.

Ya know... it really is ironic.... and saddening...

That things never are what you thought they would be...

I was 'talking' with Peter's Aunt last night. She is 90 years old, lives in Frankfurt, but Peter is her favorite nephew, and she mails me to ask what is happening. Her husband died slowly, and had dementia at the end...

She tells me things that can make it easier for everyone around.

And she loved him muchly.

So... I want to THANK everyone, who responded to the posts down below privately via e-mail to me. All friends, and one special relative.

They were immediately THERE.

And that was wonderful.

Their moral support and prayers were something I could lean on, and sometimes you lean on something when everything around you crumbles.

Thank you all...

Even in 'virtual', kind words mean much.

What hurts is the non-reaction of people who have been here... and not one word.

No matter what you all thought... well, I just do not want to go there right now.

You think you can count on someone, and they seem to turn away.

Doesn't reflect well on me, now does it.... I must be really horrible....

YES, I am so angry, I could go out and punch someone in the face.

And I wouldn't CARE if I got knocked out.

That is what you all did to me in one way or another... ignoring, being denigrating, being absolutely ignorant of what was happening. And I am no better for not having explained it because those were different times, so am also culpable....

So bring it on...

I ended the post with a saying we have here: 'You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family.'

Good on them...

And bless my friends....

Frustration continues......

This morning, the phone rang in the middle of the night, and my heart nearly stopped.

Only to hear 'Good morning, my dear friend, it is 8:30 a.m. Put on my glasses, looked at the clock and said, 'Peter, it is 3:3o in the morning.'

Of course I went to the hospital early this afternoon, and they were just changing his Depends. Great to behold, hey... (The door was open a bit.) His 'perky' nurse was on duty. Yesterday I also had to wait while they changed the bandage on his foot, and she said, 'Now you can go in young man...' And I did a rubber-neck, and said, 'Young man??? Where???' She laughed and excused herself, she is half my age... I found it funny.

Today she came out, and looked at me sternly. 'Are you bringing him Coca Cola???' And I said, 'Whaaa? I would never bring him that. Ever.' (A liter or Co-Cola has the equvalent of 70 sugar cubes in it... just so's ya know... it would kill him.)

'Well, he said you were...'

Uh-huh...

So I told her about the 3:30 a.m wake up call, and the rest of it.

'I can't breathe.'

'Call the nurse to renew the oxygen.' (which is all they are giving him so far...)

'I can't, I'm in another room, (panicked) and I need to get out of here.'

Whereupon the nurse said, after relating this surreal call in the middle of the night... 'Don't go any further, I get the picture.'

However.... we have the upper denture mystery.

There was a second call, ya see, this morning. 'I lost my upper dentures', and the nurses were supposedly looking all over for them and could I come down and help them find it. Beg pardon???

I didn't beleive that for a second.

But after arriving... his uppers were still nowhere to be found.

So I rummaged around in his drawer, there is no one else in the room, so they could only be in his bed, and I wasn't about to rip that apart with him in it....

And instead marched down to the nurse's station, and said, 'Herr P can't find his upper dentures. Said there was a 'search' and you couldn't find them????' And one of them said, 'I gave them to him this morning, they must be in the bed somewhere. And there was no 'search'.'

Uh-huh...

And I went into Austro-mode, and said, 'Well it would be nice if you could find them for him...'

Herrgottnochmalfixsakramenthalleluja....

There is no diagnosis clipboard anywhere that I can surreptitiously look at... I have no idea what is happening... it is sort of disconcerting.

All I can assume is that he has to be stabilised before they really can DO anything concrete.

It's a mystery...

Sigh.... I don't even know how to title this...

Yesterday was exhausting. Snow, slush, overpacked public transportation, and got out to the hospital. And that complex is so huge, it took me over forty minutes to find the building Peter is in. I thought I had found it, but landed in the onkology ward (cancer patients) and was told to get into the elevator, and press -2 level and there would be a connection to where I wanted to go? The elevator had -1, -3, -4... but no -2. It was like Alice in Wonderland, hey....

So I wandered on outside, and finally found the right building.

Only to find him in a four-bedder, watching the clock and worrying that I wouldn't show up, as I called before I left the house. I told him I got lost on the grounds, which he could understand. (And I did ask, trudging through the snow and slush....Most personell seem to only know their own buildings...)

He was on one of those oxygen things. No tee-vee, quiet, and a stick without the dead man over the clock.

He seemed to be half-way cogent...

Today was another story. While there, I had to leave the room, and wait while his foot got re-dressed. And he wasn't cogent at all. Said I wanted to go home, and make something to eat because I hadn't eaten anything all day, went to his place, got some things he wanted, and then on to the LKH. (Landeskrankenhaus) 'Wait another five minutes!' So I did.... and wanted to leave....

And he said, 'NO, I need to get into the wheelchair.' So we did that, and he wanted to get wheeled around... And I said, 'ok...' And we wheeled through the corridors, and he wanted to go down to the ground floor... he is on the third, your fourth...

And I asked, 'Why, there is nothing there to SEE....' He got petulant, so we took the elevator down to the ground floor, and there was nothing there to SEE... just ambulances arriving. 'I want to go out.'

'Peter it is COLD out there, dammit.'

So I said, 'Ok, but just for a minute.' He has been so disoriented, because he doesn't know where they really put him, and as above, that is one huge complex. So I wheeled him outside for a moment, and around the corner so he could see that his building is next to the very tall building where the helicopters land, and what it looks like where he is from the outside. That seemed to calm him. 'Oh...'

And then I wheeled him asap back into the building, he was only in his johnny with a sheet over his legs....

Not before he said, 'Let's go shopping.' Or telling the nurse when we were leaving, 'I have to go to the bank.' Uh-huh.

I have no idear what the hell he wanted to buy... but my heart got more ice-struck than the cold outside....

I have a LOT of questions. But no one will answer me if I were to ask... am not family. Why the hell is he in nefrology (kidney station) when the main problems were with heart and lungs??? Why isn't he getting intravenous drips, although he has a so-called 'pipeline' inserted into his hand??? Or maybe he gets them, and doesn't realise it?

I don't know, and am not allowed to ask.

He said they are going to start doing a lot of things with him on Monday. And that 'the doctor' said he would be able to help him.

(Where have I heard THAT one before???)

Sorry, am cynical at the moment.

The people in that building seem to be very respectful, and treat patients so that they retain their dignity. And that is a good thing. The male nurses seem to be kind to him, but everyone is empathetic.

In other departments, that wasn't always the case....

Am still waiting to hear what the fuck happened. He'd complained about heart pain two days before going... or better said, getting sent there.... And I saw a thing that heart trouble can affect the lungs on the tee-vee yesterday, coincidentally... So why the kidney dept.???

Well, they will know what they are doing....

I hope my hair finally goes white....

Finally success, after a 'conspiracy'...

I was gonna reveal my plan yesterday, but was really uncertain how our GP would react...

So just call me as stubborn as he is, because the past several days were horrific, and Peter was losing it fast. Wednesdays are not 'Spaghetti Day' at his place... It's 'the doctor makes his weekly house call day'.

Peter threw me out of bed at 8 am, 'come quick, I can't breathe...'

Tja, 'quick'... it is still snowing like crazy, traffic was bad, one of the busses threw everyone off at the 'museum of perception' stop, and I had to hoof it half a mile to get there. He was in the worst shape I ever saw him, and slightly incoherent at intervals.

Soo bustling about from the bed-sitter to the kitchen, I took a moment to write the following note: 'Dear Dr. W, check his lungs because I really think he has pneumonia.' And slipped him the note when he arrived. Our GP was already unsettled last week, but this time he went into action.

We went out to the kitchen, and he said Peter had to go to hospital asap. I said, 'I just can't watch this any more.' And he said, 'I know what you mean...' I told him I had been to the social service people, and that they had been there, but seemingly didn't see what was what.

And then he handed over the papers... to me. Wow, just... wow...

And then, THEN, he told Peter he had to go to hospital. And Peter began yelling, 'You're both conspiring against me!' (Yahooo...) And I said, 'If you don't, I will never come here again.' And the GP said, 'Mr. P.... if you are not in a hospital by tomorrow morning, Mr. B is going to call me and tell me you are not. And then you WILL go...' Peter wanted prescriptions for things that had run out. Dr. W. said, 'You'll get all that.... in the hospital.' And refused to write them up.

Finally, finally!!!!

The Dr. left... and then came the not-so-fun part. 'I'll go in.. later today, gimme the papers.' And I said, 'Oh no you don't, you are going NOW.' And called the waaahhhmbulance. How he was yelling, hey. It was like 'stroke day number 2', and he was angry with me, but I didn't care.

Then came the same-old, same-old, 'We can't hospitalise someone against their will' number, and that is a very good thing in most cases. (And Peter was yelling 'I don't wanna go' in the background.) BUT... I had a back-up. Said, 'Listen, his GP was just here and said he needs to go in.'

So the guy asks, what's his doctor's diagnosis. And I looked, and doctors here have a penmanship that is so horrible I couldn't decipher most of it, but very clearly, 'suspicion of a heart attack.'

BINGO, JACKPOT! 'We will be over right away.'

I ran around packing the most necessary stuff for him. They came in about eight minutes. And couldn't get this huge stretcher on rollers into the room as the entries are too narrow. Wrapped him in a sheet, and asked me to help them carry him out into the entryway, and heave him onto it. Oh man, dead weight, hey.

So now he is where he should have been a week before Christmas, and we wouldn't have had all this fuss.

And oh... just got 'the phone call'. Cripes, he is in the kidney dept of the 2nd med at the Landeskrankenhaus. What the hell that means, don't know, but he isn't angry any more. And is on oxygen.

I shut up his apt, turned the heat down somewhat to save him some costs

And went up the street to get the bus home.... his recently moved in next door neighbor was struggling to get up the street. He is paralysed and in a wheelchair, snow coming down, and the slush was tremendous. Hard going. Some neighbors asked if they could get anything for him from the grocery store, and he said 'No, I have to get to an appointment.' And they went on....

So I went over and said, 'Hey, you want a power-push in all this mess?' And he said 'Oh, yes, thank you...' So I got him over to the bus stop, and we talked for about ten minutes. I was pretty sure he is from the Middle East, from how he looked.... Didn't matter, it took my mind off my troubles for those moments. We didn't talk about anything important, mostly the awful weather.... So the bus came, the driver didn't let down the ramp, as per usual, and I heaved the guy into it. Asked him where he was getting off, and he said, 'Jacki'. So that was my transfer place too, and I eased him off the bus, and said, 'by the way, my name is Ren, and you are????' 'Guido'. 'You gonna get to your appointment ok?' 'Yes thanks...' And off he went in the slush.

So seemingly Italian... see how perceptions deceive? And don't anyone come at me with references to 'Jersey Shore'. Am not in the mood, and yes, have seen clips of that idiocy.
(You have to keep SOME sort of sense of humour, or you go bonkers....)

I have been meaning to say this for weeks now...

Kentucky Fried Chicken folded in my city. They lasted about four months...

Starbucks had to pull out of Austria last year....

I was fucking thrilled.

To the CEO's of both companies: what the hell were you thinking?

You come into the country that INVENTED 'coffee house culture' and think you will corner the market, or invade the one place that is famed for fresh fried baked chicken, and think you are gonna corner the market? And when people go by, they know that the frying oil is old, and stinks, or rumple their noses at the idea of vanilla in coffee? And drinking it out of plastic cups?

Well, buh-bye... And before the door hits you in the arse beforehand... to quote the most wonderful chancellor we ever had, 'Learn some history'.

Now... if we can only get MacDonald's to leave and go down the drain. Yeah, I have an issue with them. The only kids with acne hang out there. That should tell you something, if you have eyes in your head....

Tja.

I just don't know where to begin...

I don't...

Were you ever in a situation where you had NO control, and thought you might die? My tonsilectomy, ok? Piece of cake, happens every day. EXCEPT... I had the most inexcusably inept disastrously dumb team working on me and it was the most frightening experience of my life.

They used ether back then.

It began ok, breathe in and count from ten backwards. And I was almost gone.... But... I heard the doctors joking, and they said, 'Ok, now let's do it', and I was still conscious. I was in sheer terror. And I couldn't move. You cannot imagine it. Struggling to give just one sign... and I found I could still move the little finger of my right hand... and make it tap and tap... And the anaesthatist said, 'Wait'... and finally put me under.

I later learned I was on the table for over three hours, and had died in the meanwhile, for short moments, because the ass hole doctor had knicked an artery and I nearly bled to death. Now, y'know... everyone has all these wonderful stories about lights in tunnels, and you see wonderful things and want to go back someday when your time comes?

Well, Preciousses.... I must be some very very baaaad creature. I won't go through the whole thing, but it was very weird. And ended up in a place where black was so black, and silence was so deafening, it was terrifying.

Was it Purgatory? I don't know... I was only thirteen years old, for fuck's sake...

I jut don't get the whole religion thing,...

oh... Betty White....

How can you be 88 and take a hit like that? She is wonderful...

This is why I can get despondent....

That teacher should be fired, tried for ruining someone's soul, and when I see stories like this, it isn't any wonder that I think I got of lucky, even if my experience wasn't as terrible...

Link Here.

That poor kid...

Who dat?

Anyone who knows me will tell you I could give a rat's ass about American football. I have never understood the game completely, nor particularly liked it since my brother got all his teeth kicked out playing it, nor ever seen one of those gladiatorial bread-and-circus events, even on the tee-vee.

I can understand why America goes hyper for excitement over it, though... But only after seeing how Europeans seem to lose their senses when the soccer World Cup Championships take place. They are even more insane, and the whole thing takes longer... You would think the world had stopped, or something. For weeks.

And I wish anyone the experience of being on a night train from Rome for twelve hours in the night after the final World Cup game back in the 70's, sitting on your luggage near the WC door and it was so overfilled, people were trying to sleep on the corridor floors, while everyone was screaming and going through all the pivotal developments in that series with one another. You want a nightmare? Get caught up in something like that. It will give you nightmares for weeks.

However.....

This Superbowl meant something more political, and saw some good background on what it meant to New Orleanians on the nightly news show last week. And when the insidious Joe Scarborough was rooting for the Colts, then I KNEW... The Saints would win. And they really did. I still don't care about the game... at all. But I do care that it will give people in NOLA a morale boost, and I know that the team members do a hell of a lot to help the city.

And so it made me very happy for them.

Bad weekend.....

So was too discouraged to post. That can happen...

Today was only worse... And went off the charts for angry at Peter's. Now I know he has pneumonia...... Just the effort to get from the bed to the wheelchair to the wc and back had him huffing and puffing, and making wheezing noises out of his lungs that make my little occasional asthma sound like a hiccup in comparison...

And the spells of confusion are coming faster, and longer than they were. One minute he is cogent, can kid me about Obama or Sarah Palin, and the next? Total blank, hey. And mixing things up? Oh.... get me a bucket to barf in, hey...

Oh, we just had telepathy writing this. He just called for the second time after I was there for hours. He finally wants a hospital bed. And asked me if I could be there if the 'youth services' come over there tomorrow about setting that up. Right, youth services... uh-huh. He did correct himself and said he meant social services, but these slips are getting really frequent....

There is more, but do not wish to get into it.

I told him if he didn't get himself into a hospital, and like yesterday, I will not visit any more, because I am sick and tired of watching him die.

This... is heart-breaking...

Some of us have been through some of what this man talks about in one form or another, but it is a horrific look in what can happen when things get very extreme.... And I think it is worth talking about... especially when the impetous for such vile draconian things comes from the US so-called Christians. And if you think, 'that can't happen here', well, there was a recent nut-job who would like to get the Supreme Court to outlaw same-sex of any sort, and put you in jail for it. I believe it was Senator Cornyn, or whomever, it was despicable.

Don't EVER think that things 'have gotten better', or 'that can't happen here'. EVER. There is a fringe who are so friggin' nuts, they would do anything hateful, anything at all...

I have read that this man is controversial...

And I normally don't really go into 'religion', I think they are all sort of nuts. But I do think that Bishop Robinson of NH had a good take on the whole prayer breakfast event that 'the Family' hosted in Washington two days ago. It was well said, and Rachel Maddow let him speak, as usual...
BTW... Jon Stewart had a zinger sent her way some days ago, she rebutted, and yesterday, he did a hilarious thing regarding that, about how she 'eviscerates' people. Rachel Maddow is one of the most respectful, intelligent people I see on my internets, and the turn on The Daily Show was very funny. I suspect they like one another.... although not in the biblical sense....

However... this was a serious topic, and I liked the episcopalian bishop's take on it.

Watch.

This is fascinating....

although some people will use the implications for their own agendas, I fear...

Link here.

Oh, just one other thing...

On DADT.... I was in the Civil Air Patrol, and on an air force base for schooling when I was sixteen. And I knew I was gay... although I wouldn't admit it to myself....

So let's go there, for a moment, very brief... Naturally, in that situation, you get up in the morning and have to go to a communal shower.

Now the Repubs think you will go salivate over everyone there....

And slap the make on someone, or something, or wait for them to drop their soap.

The stupid really hurts, sometimes.

The reality was.... you kept yourself TO yourself. You washed up, did your business, and got outta there. Because there was a lot of stuff to do to get your gear in order and appear on the runway looking perfect. Because if you didn't... it was going to reflect badly on the rest of the men in your group. And they wouldn't take it kindly.

And you were sort of welded into a group.

And never had the time to even think about other things.

It was about taking care of one another, and seeing that no one fucked up. It was a group thing.

I never got that far, but I think it turns into a routine. You are there, given a goal, and you strive to achieve it. Not more, not less.

(I had thought of going into the Air Force after high school, but Viet Nam sort of nixed it for me, I couldn't think of doing that, thought that war was senseless.)

Am sure people in the military go on their own sort of bender when they get free time in various parts of the world, in their own way. Everyone needs a vent, hey.

HOWEVER: when they are in their units, they are disciplined, no matter who they are, or whom they love.

And I DO think that some people on the dark side are reading really horrible porn to even hint at what they 'think' goes on.

Will admit, I only had a very small glimpse into that world.... But I know....

Don't Ask Don't Tell deserves to be relegated to the garbage dump of history.

They don't need to 'study' it for another year.... It's a no-brainer. 25 allied countries already repealed their ban. What's to think about?

Tja, always playing to the grandstands, I guess...

Sometimes I get so disgusted....

I just laughed my butt off...

Sigh... The Daily Show from yesterday, and Stewart's take on the Don't Ask Don't Tell hearings in Washington.

Jon Stewart got on with John Oliver, and twisted it into one of the funniest things I have seen in a very long time, probably because it is a theme that interests me, I guess. Turning the theme upside-down, and demanding that old people get out of the Senate, and using the DADT arguments to cement their decision. It was just brilliant.

I stayed home today, and slept till four p.m. Feeling un-well is something I just hate.... And the air from all the coal being burned seeps into my house, scratches my throat, and drives me absolutely nuts.

So for anyone looking to destroy everything, just keep it up, because there won't be many of us left, and more for everyone else. 'Clean coal' my arse! It hasn't been this bad since the Seventies, hey....

Am going back under the bed....

Cripes... just can't sleep....

Is it any WONDER???

I don't NEED nightmares which turn out to be real. And are, in actuality... worse.

Yup, it was one of those days....

Peter's foot is a mess. He said he can see 'bones' in his wound.

Stopped my heart.... And nope am not gonna look in there... I know what I am gonna see. He's gonna lose it through sheer cowardice and stubbornness, and nothing I have said or done is gonna make a difference.

I have been yelling, whining, cajoling since before Christmas, and he has been the most stubborn-headed, idjit I have ever encountered, and wimp for being afraid.

He won't eat. Hardly. The GP was there, and said, 'I don't like what I am seeing.' (OH, he had his eyes open this time... he only checks his blood pressure and sugar level, both of which were ok...) I'm going DOWN there tomorrow, and 'wash his head', which is a local version of telling him off.

Am so frustrated.

He wouldn't talk to me about him at first... doctor-patient confidentiality, and I yelled at him.

'You can't be so stupid as not to see what is going on.'

Yeah, stupid RenB can be very hot-headed. He doesn't have rights, but he still has a tongue in his mouth, as his Mom used to say, and USE it where necessary... to SPEAK up....

And rights, he was afraid of getting a court case....

The friggin patient comes first. I would have thought....

So this is where our system gets stuck in the mud.....

It is admirable that doctors and social services have rules respecting patient's rights, and do what the patient wants.

In most cases, that is more than fine, and very good.

However, when things get life-threatening, and the people assigned aren't trained to see that, and the doctor is afraid of repercussions..... that is NOT good.

Peter hasn't been able to make a sensible decision in weeks.

He needs to go up in the hierarchy of the care system.

Whatever happens... he will lose his remaining foot, and if he is seeing bones when he tries to dress the wound himself... well... I'm not gonna look. I've been through that 'show and tell' too many times, and if it is that bad.... it is gonna be gone.

Am not whining here...

It is unfortunate, and destroys me inside, but am not whining... just feel horrible. If he had remained in hospital last year, they would have been able to save it. I doubt it will be possible now....

So how was your day?

I just took a wild time trip.... in my mind...

The New York Times had a piece up about videos on the HAIR website, with after-show dancing. I seemingly clicked the wrong link, and ended up on the main page of the 2009 Tony award winning revival site, with lots of clips and reports about the show.

The revival was after FORTY YEARS, which sort of freaks me out... where the hell did the time go???

But I realised I still love that show, and the music and the message. I guess I was too disciplined to be a dirty fuckin' hippie back then, don't know. Wanted to be... Did a few things with an activist group that wanted to get an alternative to our town's local rag, used my free time to do some fun things....

My favourite was asking people to sign a petition on 'Main Street'. And everybody said, 'This is Communist! No WAY I am gonna sign this.' And I said, 'Excuse me???' It was the Declaration of Independence, re-framed into modern language as it was spoken in the Nawth.... The ensuing article in the alternate paper... had the all-powerful one run them out of town, and they are lucky to be alive.... if they are...

I was very sorry to see them have to go. They were way cool...

That show embodied the spirit of an era, looking back.

However... the show went viral, and I guess that is like viral YouTube videos today. A global hit.

I never saw it in the US, although they toured... no money at the time...

I saw it in Graz, a touring company about 17 years ago. (I had seen the film, and liked it well enough.)

But that night, that little theater was filled with young people, and what was on stage had little to do with the film, other than the music. What left me spitless was that the audience was mostly all mid-twenty, and off the charts for enthusiastic. They knew ALL the lyrics, sang along, made out with each other in every form, I was ..... errm... more than surprised. Delighted, but surprised. Thinking, 'how do you KNOW all this, you weren't even a spark in your parent's eyes when this all came out.' It was excellent, by the way.... and libidos were up to the explosion point by the end.

Saw it again when they did a limited edition in the Raimund Theater in Vienna with Peter. It was terrific.

And so... some things follow you through your life, and affect you, I guess. HAIR is one of them, and I still love that music.

And OH... my tracking site tells me that I got called up by the House of Representatives, and wanted to see what I had about Alan Grayson. I am so proud.....

Interesting....

Hewlitt Packard is accused of racism. The demonstration in this YouTube clip does seem to prove it... Now if they develop software for video security systems, would it work the other way around???? I think it would be problematic either way....

Oh... here we go again....

Quarter to five in the morning.... phone rings... 'Good morning, it is nine a.m.'

'Really... uh-huh...'

Since I got to Peter's... gawwd, he is such a mess... Calling the ambulance? Not gonna let me. He fell out of his bed last night for the ninth time in very few weeks. His left arse cheek is one bruise....

He doesn't know what day it is, most of the time....

And on other fronts, on last night's nightly news with Brian Williams, there was a disturbing report about a baptist group in Haiti who were arrested trying to take 33 'orphans' from Haiti, and sell them for adoption in the Dominican Republic at ten thousand dollars a pop and they only wanted them to find 'God's love'. Uh-huh.....

The group is from Idaho, btw.... just call up last night's episode on Nightly News... chilling.

Use Google.

I had to turn off yesterday's Press the Meat when 'orange' John Bonehead' aka Boehner sent my blood pressure soaring. So disingenuous, and made me so angry, I couldn't watch any more....

And I do NOT like David Gregory. nor the pompous Chuck Todd.... They feel so damned 'entitled'... And have feeble intellects, or are bought.