New mallet.
Tapped the end so there's no need for a bolt through the side
See
Teip and BBor
Polo
The coveted Joust
Bbor with his new ride
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
To what end do we save lives?
The end is the same, despite our lofty pontifications and costly interventions. We save lives for the sake of the individual, despite the impact on the herd. We save lives to postpone the tears and nose-blowing of loved ones, despite the knowledge that no tears or hankeys are ever spared. Death is a zero sum game.
We save lives because, for some inexplicable reason, we intrinsically value life- however harsh it may be. We value time. Time on this spinning rock. Yet, ironically, we don't value our own lives enough to quit drinking, quit smoking, quit McDonaldsing, quit winding up in the damned hospital. And we don't value our time on this spinning rock enough to value the spinning rock itself.
The end is the same, despite our lofty pontifications and costly interventions. We save lives for the sake of the individual, despite the impact on the herd. We save lives to postpone the tears and nose-blowing of loved ones, despite the knowledge that no tears or hankeys are ever spared. Death is a zero sum game.
We save lives because, for some inexplicable reason, we intrinsically value life- however harsh it may be. We value time. Time on this spinning rock. Yet, ironically, we don't value our own lives enough to quit drinking, quit smoking, quit McDonaldsing, quit winding up in the damned hospital. And we don't value our time on this spinning rock enough to value the spinning rock itself.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Ode to Veterans Affairs
Beards, beards, and beards galore; welcome to the VA. Missing toes, missing eyes, missing the bus to Battle Creek. COPD, PTSD, straight black coffee; welcome to the VA. Diabetes mellitus, old man who yells at us, abscesses full of pus. Delirium tremens, estranged family makes amends, all vets are old friends, come once you'll come again; welcome to the VA. Cirrhosis, thrombosis, please help us. Tote your guns, smoke for fun, terr'rists go'n run, 'Merica's next to none; welcome to the VA. Yessir, Nossir, thankya Ma'amy, firm shake your handy, spank the nurse's fanny, ain't this life grandy, pass me the brandy; welcome to the VA. Fought in war, decub sore, hate Al Gore. Nicest folk you'll ever meet, missing teeth and missing feet, live in trailers live on the street, laughing joking tender sweet- in terms of patients, you just can't beat...the VA.
Monday, June 4, 2012
"Comfort Care": Euphemism of Euphemisms
Mrs. P went comfort care over the weekend. Died a few hours later. She was puffy, swollen, pumped full of a myriad of unforgiving antibiotics and crystalloid solution, a plastic tube jammed down her throat with dried blood at the corners of her mouth. Unconscious, unable to breathe, unplugged, and now unalive.
Her husband, from whom she was separated, was at the bedside soon after she passed- distraught, he prayed with the clergyman assigned to Mrs. P. He wept openly. A broken marriage and a wife stripped of white cells and stripped of life. Which part was he weeping for?
He found no comfort in comfort care. I find no comfort in comfort care. Here's hoping Mrs. P had some comfort with comfort care.
Her husband, from whom she was separated, was at the bedside soon after she passed- distraught, he prayed with the clergyman assigned to Mrs. P. He wept openly. A broken marriage and a wife stripped of white cells and stripped of life. Which part was he weeping for?
He found no comfort in comfort care. I find no comfort in comfort care. Here's hoping Mrs. P had some comfort with comfort care.
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