Rush to Hospital, Time to Fight Your OWN Demons

Former (he says) drug addict and obese radical right conservative radio personality, Rush Limbaugh, has once again been rushed to a hospital for chest pains. (While vacationing in Hawaii)

The New Year will be a good chance for Rush to step back, be satisfied with his millions, and just relax his yelling. May the new year bring him peace from his demons.

Blind Feeling for Answers During Jeopardy//Discussing a Blog Post

One of my favorite blogs is Groping the Elephant. http://gropingtheelephant.blogspot.com/ Doug B. is the blogger and his posts always make me stop and ponder. I like to wake up to a good brain jolt before the caffeine sets in.
Without the NY Times in my hands, that morning brain shake is missing. Now I have Doug B.
His last couple of posts really got me thinking and I couldn’t stop thinking about what he wrote. My blog comments usually are a swift summation of my thoughts of a post, after my comment posts I usually reread it and think: “What was I thinking?” But, oh well, and that is the world of Blogs. I must ready myself to move on to the next, which will head off on some new topic.

But I could not let his words/ideas go. My brain was debating them all day long. I went all taboo: I spoke aloud to my partner, who was in the midst of playing Jeopardy with me, all that was swirling in my weary, shrinking, brain. What I write in parenthesis is what I was thinking, but did not say aloud.

P: “Who is Nietzsche?!”
D: “Doug says that animals don’t think as we do. I brought up Arthur and I could have…”
P: “Doug who?”
D: “DOUG! Doug from the blog, from…”
P: sighs “Right.”
D: “What do you think? You agree with me right? You know what I mean? The birds, they are really up to stuff and I should be documenting what those birds are doing, people are so stupid about animals and you know what I mean? (Is she listening to me? I have to get some AAA batteries for that recorder I got. Why doesn’t UW get some student out here to watch these birds?! What the hell are students DOING these days? Do I order groceries tomorrow? I better, the holiday is coming.)
P: “What is his idea exactly?”
D: “Did you give me your grocery list yet? Should I get aspirin? It says it expired 3 months ago.”
P: “What?”
D: “Oh, it sounds so hysterical if I tell you. He is comparing body odor to natural actions to logic and…(Oh my God, that sounds so stupid what I just said, she is going to think I’m nuts or he is or I wonder if the aspirin is still ok to use? Look at her face. She is so adorable.) Laughter ensues.
P: “Body odor?”
D: “Yeah, he’s (laughter) trying to, well, I told him millions of years ago man lived by water so it wasn’t an issue. They did right?” (laughter)
P: “Don’t start.”
D: “Start what?” I start laughing.
P: “Do you really want me to answer or not?”
D: “If I had a camcorder I could put you on YouTube and get a million hits and then we would advertise for kitty litter on my blog and be millionaires!”
P: “Kitty litter?! I am NOT funny.”
D: “You said we could get rid of some old photos like the one where you were holding the cat over the toilet.” P starts laughing as I hold up my hands to mimic a camcorder filming her. This makes her turn away and laugh harder. “WHY were you trying to put the cat down the toilet?”
P: “STOP IT!”
D: “Answer the question, Sir.” (I love that scene from A Few Good Men. Was it from a Few Good Men? I hate Tom Cruise. I better check our Netflix queue. He says I haven’t been around undomesticated animals much! How dare he!? I read somewhere that those use by dates are not so important. I’m getting more aspirin anyway.”
P: “I am NOT a sir!”
D: What do you think about the body odor analogy? The age of enlightenment is when we started…”
P: “Is he talking about determinism?”
D: “He is saying we have no free will really, that those are just a construct we humans have made. Wait let me read it to you.” I read his post to her. She explains it to me. I read the comments.
P: “Yes, see, there he basically agrees with you. He says free will is one’s personality. I think that is what you are say…”
D: “No. no. DOUG said that, not Doug, Oh, that is the gay Doug”
P: “Doug isn’t gay?”
D: “NO, not the groping one.”
P: “What? Is he your virtual lover one?”
D: “BROTHER! BROTHER! Not lover! Geez.”
P: “Well try to articulate more.”
D: “So, he thinks there is free will or not? (Good thing I taped this Jeopardy. It must be a month old now. I wonder if they found that missing women. Maybe her unit will be available. Those clouds are beautiful. Oh crap! I forgot to send Aunt Vi flowers. If we had a dog he could carry a pen around his neck. )
P: “Does the Bible say that?”
D: “Say what?”
P: “That we have free will. What does it say about it?”
D: “Uh, I’m not sure now…I’ll have to get it out.” (Oh, crap, I shoved the Bible way down in my chair pocket. I know! I’ll Google it. Easy pleasy. I wonder of those cookies were made today. I am going back in the kitchen. I’ll go early when no one is there. Maybe I’ll stop and get a book. I hope these sprinklers work. We could put a cat box in the den.)
P: “You do that. His suggestion about perfumes being unnatural is wrong. They are made of natural scents. And many people think civilization is an evil, but it holds us together, for example…”
D: “Yeah! The birds go for the expensive sweet smelling seed. Monkeys clean themselves a lot.”
P: “What? Monkeys?”
D: EARLY MAN, you know, if we go with first we were monkeys and then started walking upright, even early man kept clean and besides MUSK, they sell musk.” (We should take the tree down now. I’m for getting rid of it this year. Smaller unit, smaller crap. I can’t believe my cousins didn’t send me any cards, just good ol’ Jay. I miss his dad sitting, waiting, in the front yard.)
P: “Real musk smells bad. It is just an added scent to…”
D: “Let me read you this other post. Man, this guy’s girl is never getting a dozen roses at Valentine’s”
P: “I need to get ready for bed.”
D: “Oh, ok, fine. I’ll let you know about free will.” (I wonder how Ellen will be on American Idol. She has two dogs. I better change my calendars pretty soon.)
P: “You do that.”

Y2K a new Decade is here. Karakoram Awaits

We are approaching a new year, a new decade. Wow, so much has changed for me this year, moving to an assisted living home has been the biggie. Living without the MS drug for spasticity, Zanaflex, after taking it for a decade was pretty huge. All the ER visits, hospital stays of my partner are not so unusal, but I wasn't all alone here. Losing a dear friend was devastating, but she appeared when we needed her most and now we will survive.

After those events it is Obama who will mark the beginning of the new year. He has brought us back from the brink of financial and world opinion disaster. He is fighting to save our military men and women. Health care reform is a reality. He has taken on a fixer-upper and there is still much work to do, but with him as our leader I have faith he will reach his goals. I am so proud to be alive in the USA right now.

Yes, the KKK is trying to recruit, religious fanatics are tainting faithful followers, terrorists are gathering their troops, jobs are still in hiding, the rich are still getting richer...but I feel hope with my president in command. That is something I hadn't felt in the previous 8 years.

1999, Dec.31, I was staffing the phones for the city of Seattle. (Public Utilities, water, sewer, garbage, electricity, drainage) People were freakin' out about Y2K. Most were older women, perhaps living alone, and the most asked question (all callers were close to hysterical) was: "What will I do with my poop?"

I stayed on the phone with one distraught woman for many minutes, her questions were endless. I kept trying to assure her that nothing would happen. (Though after 10 hours these people were starting to make me wonder...NO, I refused to go there.) I told her this and I believed it: "Whatever happens I have faith in the citizens of Seattle and my co-workers. We will all work together to make things okay, no matter what happens."

Y2K came and went like any other New Year's day. But, those of us who lived it will have stories to tell ( and I hope lessons learned) about how paranoid the world got. If we follow like sheep we may find ourselves falling off a cliff. Let rational thought, sound reason, faith in your fellow human beings and common sense guide you.

Happy New Decade to the world! May we find a way to accept our differences. May freedom ring from the towering Mt. Karakoram in Pakistan to the Iranian oil wells and from the Oval Office to every large health insurance company. Let the ringing deafen the ears of those who live in greed and blind the eyes of unscrupulous lobbyists. May bloodshed be exchanged for compromise and brotherhood. Let the ideals of freedom engulf you without hurting any other living soul.

Together we must find a way. Happy New Decade!

Lil Wayne Prison Time to Rhyme

Poet (some say Rapper) Lil Wayne will be making new poems in prison. Only one year and he will be back. "I'm nothing without you," he told the screaming crowd Monday at the New Orleans Arena after opening the concert with "A Milli," which last year earned him a Grammy. He was arrested on a weapons possession charge.

Brother's Spirit From Grave Helps Kid Sister

This is Prairie Grove Cemetery in Fort Wayne, Indiana. A member of my family has been on the board for as long as we can remember. My Uncle Arthur was buried next to his wife and he had added his beloved sister, Violet's name, to the head stone, thereby saving her the cost. He was well off and financially savvy. He went so far as to fill in Aunt Vi's date of birth 1907--19 Leaving only the last two digits to be engraved. Who could imagine she would live into the year 2000? (Especially since her dead family members were calling her back so often, since I was 10, so she was 60) It was something we would laugh about. What if...? Sure enough it is 2009 and Aunt Vi is going strong.

A decade ago we began talking about how we would pay for the correction. Aunt Vi and my mom found out it was not cheap. On my one visit back to Ft Wayne, I took a photo of the headstone and ha ha, isn't this funny. I showed all my friends.

Then earlier this year, a cousin from Indiana calls and tells me the stone only has her birth year on it, AND she never heard or saw any other 19. I call the cemetery head, who I had spoken to about it some years earlier, cost involved, etc.---she denied ever seeing any such date or speaking to me about it. Uh-oh. What matter of sorcery was this? Had my brother fixed it? How nice of him. I called him, he never remembered any such engraving. (My brothers did not ride to the cemetery every week with Mom and Aunt Vi, as I had.) Uh-oh

Who could I ask? Aunt Vi couldn't hear me. Mom lost her memory. WAIT! I took a photo of it! I rummaged around until I found the...Holy Grave Yard!, there was my photo---no death date on it. Had I lost my mind? NO! We talked about it OFTEN over MANY years!!

This past month I have reconnected with Uncle Arthur's niece and she remembers! Whew. Sooo, how did the engraving change? I know. Barring, an unknown relatives intervention, I firmly believe Uncle Arthur took care of this for his kid sister. It is so HIM. (AND so HER)

Laughing with Mom in a Nursing Home, The Alzheimer's Timeline

Once again I had to have a staffer hunt down my mother. Mom had fallen asleep after dinner, didn't hear her phone ring. Luckily, her roommate is near deaf, so I don't bother her.

Mom has lost her timeline. She believes that she has only forgotten, "lost" she says, a brief period when she had to leave her last apt.---the only time she got to live by herself and she loved every minute of it.

We want something and think that in time we will have it, but we wait too long and it slips through our hands. Mom could not have known she would get Alzheimer's. (I say Alzheimer's, though one can only know at autopsy; she did show on MRI with "water on the brain." which can cause same symptoms as Alzheimer's, but Mom refused treatment/surgery--a shunt to drain, so who knows what might have been?) Lesson we hear again and again: Do it NOW. Tomorrow may never come.

Mom recalls people and events when I prompt her, but she struggles more now. And each time, over and over, "My brother is dead? How did he die? I wondered what happened to him." Homer, wow, seems like just last year she was visiting him, playing cards with him, telling ME how he was doing. So, I tell her the whole story about Uncle Homer once again. Once again she makes the same responses, "Really?!" "Oh my." "That's a shame." and so on.

She has forgotten a recent reunion of sorts with many of Homer's children. She loved them and spoke of them often as I was growing up. She hesitated trying to remember my brother's names. With a small prompt she had them. But she is unsure where they are in space and time. (The oldest cherishes his privacy, I guess, whatever, and frankly I am not sure where he lives and I no longer care. So, I make up a new location each time she asks. I've used up most of the states, I think I'll start placing him in Canada or Germany. Her response is always the same: "Oh, really? Well, that's nice." She always wanted her kids to be and do whatever they desired. That was important to her. She might find our actions crazy, but if we did them she would outwardly support us.

She still asks each time, "Where do you live?" A new twist this last call, she wants to see photos of herself when she was younger. Interesting, and I shall oblige. She doesn't know if she got the book I sent, but she loved the candy. I doubt everything she tells me now. Too often I believed her in the years leading up to her brain collapse, now I doubt, but now it doesn't matter.

We laugh. Her voice sounds as clear and fresh as it did when she was 40. I sing to her and hear a smile in her voice. That is all that matters now.

Canary at Retirement Home

Fiesty, the canary in our social room. He sits next to the piano and sings all day.

http://www.theviewpointe.com/about.html

Detroit. Hidden in Condom, No Banana, a BOMB

What will happen now? Was it a man's fear to run or feel another man's penis that allowed the terrorist who had the bomb in Detroit to pass through searches? The report is he had it in a condom on his body. I'm surprised the GOP didn't jump all over this: NO SEX EDUCATION IN SCHOOLS with bananas and condom examples. IF WE DO, the terrorists win.

"Too PC...." the poor, lonely congressman, King, from NY (who serves on a Homeland Security committee) said of our current searching rules. Maybe he meant we need to drop the homophobia? HA!

And I suppose, once again this is all Pres. Obama's fault. (Shall we mention all the suggestions in the 9-11 Commission Report that, under the GW Bush administration, were IGNORED for so many years?)

Poor Today show, off on holiday and unable to interview the heroes who jumped the suspect and held him down while simultaneously putting out the fire on her, er, leg. Hey, man, don't mess with Detroit. Detroit is really pissed off right now and a bomb is the last thing they need. By the way, where were the Air Marshalls? Oh, so many questions to be unanswered, lied about, and misdirected!

Bistro Quiet at The Viewpointe on Aueen Anne in Seattle

Bistro and me at the Viewpointe on Queen Anne. I like quiet mornings used for reflection and drinking.

Terror in Detroit, Facts Please

Looks like there was an attempted terrorist attack on a Delta plane that landed in Detroit. But who knows?? The TV media has the C- anchors on and all the A List are on holiday. (NOT in Detroit---surprise.) I have now watch some person in a gray hooded parka go up plane steps almost 20 times, just keeps repeating while dopey anchor on CNN (must be Jewish or gay, we always work on Christmas) somehow grabbed a dude on the plane---my gawd, talk about putting words in the dude's mouth! He wants more DRAMA from the calm fellow and so he keeps restating the already answered question.

Oh oh oh, now CNN is hopping---THEY GOT A Republican guy from NY who caption says is "...member of homeland security committee." hahahahha I bet that guy is thrilled he stuck close to home today. Sad, just sad. REPORT FACTS and if you don't have any---SHUT UP. Drop the rolling rerun of a photo you don't explain. MSNBC is playing some special they had canned and FOX is showing Madonna...hmmm. Real concern abounds. I might as well be watching an aluminum helium balloon floating. THAT at least got coverage...if you can't tell me---show me.
AARRGGHH

Jen VS Jolie Brad VS Christopher Plummer HELLO?

Hello! Bring me your lonely, your bored, ye atheists and ye Jewish, ye of little faith and ye whose faith-cup runneth over----here we are, just you and me. Whilst others are opening wrapped packages, drinking wine and/or beer, snapping photos of family members and new puppies...we are here. You and me. mano et mano...or, er, womano und womano---oops some German slipped in. I shall make up my own language! Who cares!? It is just us. You. Me.

Now, what shall we discuss? I am happy the health care bill is off the blocks. Warmed my cockles (I hope that is not a dirty word)(OH WHO CARES! Poop! There, I said it. Va-jay-jay. Dinglehopper. HA!) to see our elected officials have to work so late. Welcome to the REAL WORLD. Now you are at your vacation homes, "summering," your trips in first class to visit your family. You are drinking fine wine and making love to your spouses, friends, mistresses. Good for you. Life is short.

They say one fighting point is still abortion. Here is my thought(s): 1. I never KNEW abortions were covered by insurance and I couldn't care less. I have paid into health insurance without using any for decades. I am glad to know abortions was something my money helped pay for. It is not like somebody decided to have an abortion for fun! (Like the Viagra I pay for.) Some of my money probably paid for some anti-gay, KKK members life-saving heart surgery. So? I'm OK with that. I like living in the U.S. And I love the differences in people, am fascinated by those who murder, hate, need power, are humble, help others and throw stones at cats. People are a never ending mystery. 2. Why not have a box to check on your health insurance that says you agree part of your money may be used for abortions or no, your money may not.

Wouldn't that solve the problem? And if you ever had an abortion for any reason other than rape, then you must always check "yes." Simple! Look, fight Roe VS Wade if you are so moved, but right now it is the law. Ok, I solved that.

Jen VS Angelina, I can't believe some people are still upset over this. Look, I heard Jennifer Aniston say on some interview, "If Brad ever got the chance...with Angelina...I told him to go for it." It was all in the beginning of Jen/Brad marriage and oh so ha-ha; but see what can happen, ladies? My opinion: Brad wanted more. Some actors turn to drugs. Brad wanted to build houses. Jen was nagging about his project not being done. I saw the end coming, don't tell me Jennifer didn't. Brad wanted kids. Jen wanted her slim body. She didn't have to worry about giving up her career---she was LOADED! She could have made the same Indie movies after some babies. She just didn't want the whole kid-thing; Brad did. Meeting Jolie was his dream come true. UN Ambassador(meaning), kids (family), a match made in heaven as the song says.

I called my mom. She is in the denial phase. Her memory is fine except for one lost period. This is how she is rolling and I shall play along. People have a right to roll as they chose. Life is short.

Have decided to pod cast something. Now, must learn how tis done. My computer (I just found out) is all ready to go. Another cop, two actually, were shot again in Seattle area. This time they lived, but are not in great shape. The shooter's 16 year old daughter jumped her dad and pulled the wounded officer inside their house, probably saving his life.

There are lots of toys for tots but not enough PEOPLE to deliver them. That sucks. PEOPLE! Get off your butts and do more to help others. It is fun! It is rewarding! It is exercise that you don't PAY money to get.

Did you ever have a Mr. Potato Head? I did, Aunt Vi must have bought it. Mom never had money for too many toys when I was little. When I was 10 and my brother was 18, or 11 and 19, she got a TV cheap from her job, for me! It was small, black and white. Super cool. My brother was furious that I was being spoiled, since he never got a TV. SHE HAD LESS MONEY THEN JERK. My brothers hated me. One tore the head off my favorite stuffed dog. He also broke my only real doll that I liked---Chatty Cathy. He ripped the string out. He wasn't a jerk though, he was the middle boy and he suffered from not being the favored jerk too. I seriously feel bad for the jerk, he didn't ASK to be favored. It suffocated him as he grew up. Aunt Vi did it to him. Giving too much was a flaw of hers. She made a few jerks. Both my brothers are good men...mostly, no women hitting or child beating, good men on most accounts. They can't help the genes they got. One got a set that the other didn't. They fascinated me.

Vitamin C speeds up cell repairs. Hmmm, I need more C, though I have watermelon every day now in the retirement home. Love me my watermelon.

So, how's life with you? Do you ever get tired of reading blogs? Ever just keep your laptop shut or computer turned off? Or does it draw you in? Am I addicted? Where would I get my news? Hear from friends? Hmmm, I bet they will make a pill for this.

Finally watched Glee on TV---big deal, been there, done that. I was a drama nerd in HS. Made me think though, I haven't watched The Miracle Worker since I was a kid! I'll try Netflix...why isn't it run on AMC? We watched The Sound of Music last night. Wow. They can never remake it, too perfect. Chistopher Plummer---H O T, they don't MAKE leading men like that anymore. Sing, dance, hell, they don't make performers like that anymore. I know they are trying...but, Peggy Wood? No way.

I am going to write a musical, songs and all. Yes, I already have it story-boarded in my head.

OK, nice to talk to you. (Though it felt very one-sided.) Emails are more personal, more private. Face to face is a bit gamey now. We lie, hide true feelings, see facial expressions we don't want to see or show. No delete key. Oh well, all good among friends. Peace out.

Snoopy to the Rescue!

bing or Google? GOOGLE to the DEATH

I hate bing. I love Bing cherries and Bing Crosby singing White Christmas. I love the bing of a doorbell (JEN). But Google or bing? PLEEZZZZZZZZZZ I will Google till I die. They sold their stock to US, us little people, when it went IPO. Good people. bing doesn't even know me...sniff..I'M NOT BITTER! I just refuse to be coerced. bing just SHOWED UP on my bar. Nasty business that. I will not bing green eggs and ham I will not bing it, GOOGLE I AM!

Connecting the nerves on an atrophied MS leg!

A momentous event just happened again. It is 3:30AM on Weds. morning. I woke up just to write it down this time. It happened Tues., and Mon., also. My lift leg lifted up at the knee all by itself. I was laying on my back, sleeping, just woke up and stretched---it lifted! I was so shocked I didn't know what to do. Looking down the hall to see of my partner was awake, no, the apt. was dark. Should I lift it again? Should I grab my computer? I am writing a story about my attempts to walk, this MUST be apart of it---while my mind was spinning, I fell asleep. That was Monday. The time was 3:15AM.

Later throughout Monday, I could not repeat the feat. Did I dream it? Then Tues. at about 3AM, it lifted again! This time I fell asleep quickly. Now I was bragging of success while doubting its validity. This morning I would not be fooled! It lifted. I turned on my light and lifted it again, knee to my chin, while reclining. Then I grabbed my computer and there you are.

My morning workouts, have improved, involve lifting TEN POUND weight now, and more time pedaling the mini-exercise bike. The only big addition has been standing at the long wall bars in my bathroom. I rock back and forth to shift my body weight and Weds. I could feel the left leg calf muscles stretch---I haven't felt that in years! What a glorious feeling.

Progress is slow, but faster than anyone imagined. My caregivers are astounded. It was just a year ago I was being released from the ICU and unable to lift a magazine. YES! I am beginning to allow myself to feel happiness and the depth of possibilities.

Perhaps the miracle of Christmas Eve is upon me. Do you believe in miracles? Well, do ya?
Ho Ho Ho H

Award for a Cranky Caregiver: We Stay Strong Together

This is one of my favorite blog awards. My partner designed it to show the gathering of support we all give to each other who are broken in some way. It comes from the idea behind Richard Cohen's (He has MS and has authored one of my favorite MS books: Blindsided.) book, "Strong at the Broken Places" which chronicles his meetings with several people who struggle with chronic diseases---it is inspiring and reminds us how much we all have in common, those who are ill and those who care for their ill loved ones; we all must become strong at the broken places.

This award goes to Musings of a Cranky Caregiver

http://musingsofacrankycaregiver.blogspot.com/

"Family caregiver to a wonderful woman who's had MS for more than 20 of our 28 years together. "Mother" to two wonderful dogs, mini-dachshunds."

Skip, with MS, has been hospitalized and life is difficult right now. I hope you will pay Cranky a visit and give her some support. It is not easy being strong at those broken places.

Senator John Kerry's Wife Has Breast Cancer

Teresa Heinz is being treated for breast cancer and is speaking out in support of women continuing to get mammograms. She is 71. She said she has not spoken to John Edward's wife yet. I know with her money and power she will shed light on this horrible cancer. She is a strong fighter and I found her to be very brave during the election battle.

Reasdmore from NPR on Twitter

Blog Awards Invisible Illness and MS//Howl at Moon

And the award goes to: Invisible Illness CFIDS/FMS http://fibroviv.blogspot.com/

"I am disabled with Chronic Fatigue and Fibromyalgia. My goal is to share my personal tips, tools, and pain management experience. I admire creative people, music, art and creative writers. Reading and writing on other forums enables me to understand other points of view."

Also: Howling at the Moon http://zoomdoggies.blogspot.com/

"Born in CA, I arrived in Seattle, WA, 14 years ago via Portland, OR and Lansing, MI. After a short and unremarkable career as a zoologist, I recently retired on disability from a 20-some year stint writing technical documentation for various software companies. I live with my partner (Scarecrow), our daughter (Tuffy), a variable number of retired racing greyhounds, and a whippet. "

Awards Zero in, wheelchair dancing

Tis the season to give! Here our your awards! Living-With-MS http://living-with-ms.blogspot.com/

"Love myself first and most. Avoid negative sources, people, place, things, and habits. Believe in myself. Read, Study and Learn about everything important in my Life. Take control of my own destiny. Visualize it. Want it more than anything. I am a one of many unique child of God creations, nothing can replace ME. I will continue to zero in on my target and go for it!"

And: Wheelchair Dancer http://cripwheels.blogspot.com/ I know you don't have awards on your blog, but giving you one anyway! HA! this is an inspiring and humorous blog filled with the trials and tribulations of wheelchair dancing.

Inspire Me Blog Awards: Pregnant with FMS, Life with MD, MS Glue

And the Blog Award goes to: Fibromyalgia and the Tiger within http://fms-tiger.blogspot.com/
(She's having a GIRL!)

Also: Life of John http://johnrsf.blogspot.com/ If he doesn't inspire you, no one can.

And: Brass and Ivory http://brassandivory.blogspot.com/ To know one can live with MS and RA and STILL do all you do---a true inspiration. You are the glue that holds MSers together in the blog world.
Congratulations All!!!!!!!!!!

Santa in Plastic Mask Scares Child to Death

Oh come on, don't tell me a Santa in a PLASTIC MASK wouldn't scare you too! I screamed my head off moments after this pic. Never sat on Santa-lap again.

Proud to be #1 Seattle Loves to Read

Yes, once again Seattle tops the list for: TA DA "Most Literate City"
1. Seattle
2. Washington
3. Minneapolis
4. Pittsburgh
5. Atlanta
6. Portland, Ore.
7. St. Paul
8. Boston
9. Cincinnati
10. Denver
Source: Central Connecticut State University

I think we also still have the most bookstores per capita. (We have Amazon.com after all!! )

Diane Sawyer First Night Grade

Sawyer is too dramatic, just the facts please! Oh, how I long for Walter Cronkite. Sawyer, save your grimaces for home, just deliver the news. First night (excusing saying president for presents) grade: C-

Did you watch her? What did you think?

Seattle Living by Pike Place Market and Near Lake

Seattle dresses up well for Christmas. The Space Needle has a lighted tree shape on its top. The picture above is a decorated Pike Place Market. This was my backyard for 6 wonderful months in 1992. Each morning I walked to work, stopping for an egg wrap, Starbuck's mocha, and NY Times. I walked home for lunches and sat on my balcony, 14 stories up, watching the downtown traffic and Puget Sound ferries. On weekends, I visited with farmers bringing in their fresh produce, picked up the days fruits and vegetables, flowers, and after returning them home; off I went with cane to a small bookstore two blocks away, had a freshly made cup of coffee, sampled the newest books at a table inside and bought two. It was my 2nd year after MS made me legally blind, and had restored my sight, so I wanted to read as much as I could. My vices all met: Mochas and books!

We remember those 6 months as our 6 month vacation. I never took a weeks vacation in all of my 18 years with the city. All time off was for MS---IV treatments and recovery or taking care of several surgeries and those of my mate's. It was, as we call it, "a tender time."

Now, we look out onto Lake Union and houseboats. The houseboats are decorated with lights. A tourist cruise ship is decorated and has a choir aboard---it is fun to watch that pass by. Our tree is up and our railing leading to our front apt. door is covered with lighted, red, garland. The complex, of course, is fully decorated and each day there is some activity to celebrate the season.

As we look back on our lives, I don't think any home will compare to our vacation 1200 sq ft at the Pike Place Market. Visit Seattle if you ever get the chance. You won't be disappointed.

Brittany Murphy Dead at 32, Tornado Heart Attack

Brittany Murphy died of a heart attack today. Only 32 years old, always so shocking and out of nowhere like a tornado in Midwest Springtime. I loved her sweet performances and her darling voice of Luanne in King of the Hill, and her role in Happy Feet. 8 Mile and Girl Interrupted were stellar acting performances. She had so far to go...these sudden deaths seem to be happening more and more.

No Compass, Donut Hole in Ship, Health Insurance Where Are You?

I won't bore you with the details of my long phone calls to insurance companies this past week, trying to decide which company to go with. I have no drug coverage right now, just Medicare. Since I have been on Medicare in 2006, I would guess it has paid about $3 worth of coverage. My employed partner's insurance was primary. Now I'm on my own with Medicare.

All the ads you see on TV, in magazines, I called them all. I got on all the web sites (THAT was a nightmare, no elderly or mentally challenged person could possibly absorb the data, let alone NAVIGATE the sites!) and I will just tell you one story.

I asked one rep. about the donut hole. He (or she, I talked to so many) had no idea what I was referring to. Ugh. Then I asked another how should I deal with the Obama reform? They had NO IDEA any health care reform was happening. "I don't pay attention to that sort of thing."

WHAT?? I knew then and there that it was a lost cause. My choice will be by roll of dice. (The one I liked best has only FOUR customer service reps....FOUR!! sigh) I consider myself more on top of politics and health care, drugs and insurance than the average person...so WHAT IS THE AVERAGE PERSON TO DO? sigh

Is Life With No Brain a LIFE?

Is it sane to believe a baby born with no brain is a human? Will the baby have a life? Today a baby in Colorado marked his first birthday without a brain. His loving family gathered around him on TV, mother in tears, he is her miracle from Heaven. Usually such babies die stillborn or within days at most. His mother says, "It's hard to know that I'm going to be burying my son soon, but it's wonderful to know he's made it a year."

Are we alive without a brain? Isn't this miracle just for the mother and those who seek miracles? The child will never consider his life a miracle. The baby will never "see" hear, suck, sit up , crawl, or exist as a thinking, feeling being. What do you think?

Author's From Voices of MS Posts

Check out some author's (from Voices of Multiple Sclerosis) posts:


http://labricoleuse.livejournal.com/118188.html

http://www.trapezediaries.blogspot.com/

http://endlessknots.netage.com/endlessknots/2009/12/self-and-nonself-voices-of-ms.html

http://endlessknots.netage.com/endlessknots/2009/12/voices-of-ms-sells-out.html

Tomatoes Banned Thanks to Palin Visit at Costco

Costco has had to pull tomatoes from stores near cities where Sarah Palin is signing her book. Shoppers are leaving unable to buy tomatoes. Saving Palin from tomato attacks is more important than feeding families. (Not afraid to shoot a moose, from a plane, but those tomatoes...)

Voices of MS--SOLD OUT 1st Printing---Fastest Ever

The first printing of Voices of MS has SOLD OUT! First in their series to ever sell so fast. More copies being printed, and the NMSS FINALLY decided to acknowledge the book. Maybe my local chapter will care now.

Cat Scans Increase Cancer Risk

Letting the cat out of the bag: CT Scans may cause cancer. CT scans are overused on healthy patients in ERs. Oh swell, I had every inch of my body CT scanned a year ago, when I spent 5 days in a local hospital's ICU. I finally had to say, "ENOUGH." Now I am just angry, once again I allowed the medical community boss me around and I just took it. Even though Aunt Vi was screaming in my head: DON'T LET THEM DO IT. RADIATION--BAD

No more dental X-rays every 6 months, and I won't be guilted about it.

GREED WINS AGAIN

Well, once again (They played same game when Hillary Clinton tried to reform health care.) the winner is...TA DA DA DA---BIG PHARMA! INSURANCE COMPANIES! And all their expensive LOBBYISTS!!!! The untouchables, always one step ahead of our politicians, always light years ahead of the little guy, the middle class---WAVE YOUR FLAG! You got your way once again. Thanks a lot for caring about the people you provide services to. Sleep well on your money filled pillows. Good night and Good luck.

By Request: Here are my Grandfather's brothers/sisters. Father was William

My grandpa is back row, 2nd from left.
Edward, Martin, George, Frisbee
Sitting Sisters: Salina, Martha
1921

Written on Photo back, 1921.

Am I m reading it right? William is Martin's (my grandfather) father. Donna, I hope this clears things up. Do you have no photos at all of William? So...how are we related? Did William own any Indiana land? Were all his children born in USA? Good luck with your search!

Can Atrophy be Reversed? Shetland Dog Tails

"Your legs and arms have atrophied. No, there is nothing you can do about it, no, you can not reverse it."

Leaving my neurologist's office that day was like leaving a cage with no where to go. I had multiple sclerosis. I was secondary progressive. I was done for, there was no turning back.

That day was a real downer. A caregiver went with me and she reported to my partner that it looked dire and I should consider a catheter. (This notion was derived from my neurologists assuming I had one in.) Then I got really angry. What about astronauts? They come back all wobbly-legged, yet in a year they are running. Was it a time thing?

Then I thought of Ali. Ali was a Shetland Sheepdog that my mom and I spotted in the back of a pet store. I drug mom into pet stores, even though I didn't have a pet. I loved pet supplies, so much so that even into my 40s I would buy some and give them away to passing dogs, wild birds, meandering cats. There were always a few doggy treats in my pockets.

Ali was a pedigree dog and had been kept for over a year in a wire crate tow sizes too small. She was horribly skittish and when the store clerk let her out, she couldn't stand for more than a minute, slumping like a rag doll to the dirty linoleum floor.

Neither mom nor I wanted a long-haired dog, and these are like miniature collies; I never liked Lassie. But without discussing it, we were on the same page: we couldn't leave this dog to die after living so abused. The clerk even told us they were waiting to put her down. Ali would go home with us that day. Our hearts over took our good sense, neither of us could care for such a dog.

Her pedigree was long and Love Story was my favorite book then, so I named her Wee Lorelei of Shetland, nickname: Ali (for Ali McGraw, star of the Love Story movie.) The clerk warned us that she would never walk again. Once home she scooted around on the carpet. After some time, she stood, then walked, then ran...just like any normal dog.

As I continue my attempt to walk again, there are good days and bad days. On the bad days I think of Ali and I know I will walk again. My life, this moment is so rich with all before, during, and after. Why do people give up? Don't ever, EVER, give up. Anything is possible.

Myelin Repair Gift for Holidays

Girlfriends Hanging Out in Indiana 1922

Aunt Violet was such a friend magnet. Born in 1907 (she is 15, "My first year at GE," in top photo) she always made friends easily wherever she lived or worked. At Christmas she hung a card holder that was always over-flowing with greeting cards from all across the states. What WAS it about her? She was certainly unconventional for a woman of her times. She loved to travel, hop trains, own her own car, mix a whiskey sour, bet some poker, laugh and give her opinion. Most of the time it seems people don't appreciate others opinions, but people SOUGHT out Aunt Vi's. She has a heart as big as Texas and a tongue as sharp as a cactus. I might say, "There will never be another," but surely that can't be true, yet, I have still not found anyone like her.

Happily Married from early 1800's (Ya Think?)

Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Smith: My great-great- grandmother's brother on my mother's side and his wife.

Santa and Me: Trust No One

Here I am for the Santa photo that probably only two people ever saw or cared to see. My older brothers told me Santa was fake and I was furious with my mother for the lie. Thus was born the doubter in me. Trust no one. Question authority. I can hear my brother's laughter like it just happened. I am wearing a dress, so it was all a photo op. A few years later JFK would be assassinated. My memories of childhood are covered in questions about the motives of adults.

Kill Gays, Who Will Be Next?

Seriously, who wakes up in the morning and thinks, "We should kill gays." Uganda is wanting to pass a bill that would make it legal to execute homosexuals. Our religious conservatives of some underground "Family" group has done all they can to promote this idea. I just can't understand that person who wakes up and spends any moment of his day thinking, "We should kill all the gays." Seriously? Can't people spend their brief time on this planet helping others? Sharing love, laughter, a hand? What kind of mind lives to hate another human so much that they spend time figuring out ways to change them or kill them? Has science no place in 2009? Has love no place?

"First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a communist;Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist;Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew; Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak out for me." Pastor Martin Niemoller

Stitched Christmas Tree Skirt from 1961

Aunt Vi when she was about my age. See the hand-stitched tree skirt? She stitched one just like it for me when she had glaucoma and could barely see. I will treasure it always.

101 Killed, Medics Remove Woman Tiger Woods

101 killed in "Mission Accomplished" Baghdad. Woman taken by medics from Tiger Wood's house. Which will we be talking about today? Right.

Breeding Ground for Insanity and Cruelty: On the Job

More job people: One lady just seemed, well, crazy---examples: during a Diversity class as we went around the table introducing and identifying our diversity (I, for example, said "Newly disabled" and talked about MS) there were about 30% African Americans at the table and when it came time for crazy to speak she said something like, "Well, that is just like you people..." throughout the class she sighed every time a black co-worker said something until one of my friends stood and with all her dignity in tact, she simply walked out. (I don't know HOW the other African Americans endured it, just because we all knew she was crazy; I kept waiting for the INSTRUCTOR to do or say something, but no.)



When we got a new African American Department Director who had a limp from polio, we attended an opening introduction speech by her and crazy sat in 2nd row, raises her hand and says, "What experience can a colored women bring to this job?" (This was when "black" was still cool, but "colored" was out about 40 years before! My jaw dropped.) Our new leader was strict and very professional, she just ignored the question and continued on. As I am remembering this story, I now recall crazy used much worse slurs of bigotry than I am writing off...remembering it all makes me sick. Luckily, she is not a character in my book's story; I just want you to get a feel for the throat burning atmosphere that was Seattle City Light in the years I worked there.



Once when crazy didn't show up for work, a meter reader was sent to her house and she had fallen; the meter reader had to walk on a bumpy carpet to get to her, yeah, her dead dog was under there. Ewwwwwww



This is one example of seriously disturbed employees who worked at City Light, and supervisors did NOTHING. Did this mentally disturbed (I think she was, how could she not be?) person get satisfactory performance evaluations? Why didn't a supervisor in those rooms tell her to leave?

One co-worker took 100 calls a day in my unit, bright guy, and when his probation period ended he sat popping his pimples all day in a mirror strategically hung to see if the boss came down his aisle, his call count stayed steady at 60, but only because he left the line open---calls would ring through and he just sat there. You could hear the customer shouting, "Hello? Hello?" I took at least a call every day which began, "I just called and I could hear people laughing in the background but nobody would answer..." It got to be disturbing to workers around him, they complained to boss, pimple-popper was told to not do that and on he continued. (When a merge with the Water Dept. happened and City Light employees were told how strict the bosses in Water were...he killed himself with a shotgun. He had spent months before wondering around, staring out windows, chatting, when he should have been doing something he stopped doing years before---TAKING CALLS, did any supervisor DO anything? NO)

One woman who looked 65 in her long dresses, tight bun hair-do, black granny shoes, but was in her early 30s I guess, would answer the phone so softly that customers couldn't hear her and she pretended not to hear them, so the callers would finally hang up. She got the call counted toward her days total, never made a billing mistake on computer (since she never used it) and how jolly she was. CRAZY. I was told that she did this, but refused to believe until I sat next to her one day and sure enough---all true. She was VERY religious and sang for the Pope! For this she was rewarded with fans and write-ups in the City Light newsletters!

Most of these people were in some way rewarded. Trouble makers were promoted to get them away from people who actually did their jobs well, so that they would not bring down the morale. Obviously, not many grads from Wharton were in City Light management.

Brad started an awards program! Great idea! Committee formed, exciting first award goes ...to...(are you one step ahead of me yet?) BRAD! Awarded for spending time away from his job making an award program that rewarded being away from the job---it was a joke to those of us who really cared about the callers, who took the calls, made the billing corrections, did the work---still, management was clueless and morale sank lower and lower.

One employee slept under her desk. One spread poop across the restroom walls. One took triple her break times, every day. One jerked off at his desk. One took turns with another (both from The Men's Club) on Saturdays watching the others phone sit with an open line, while he would be gone for FOUR HOURS, then they would switch. I witnessed this one Saturday, reported it and never heard another word about it; but the game continued and both eventually promoted.
I reported smelling marijuana in the restrooms---nothing. I was struck by a co-worker while passing her in my scooter---nothing.

Yes, this will be the backdrop of my story. Looking back, it seems impossible many worse things didn't happen than the true tale I will share.

Zulu for Christmas is Safe, But Where Will You Find One?

The Zulu is on! The toy of the season got the A-OK from our federal government. The testing from an independent company was faulty, a company spokesperson admitted. So, now just try to find one! Ebay might score you one at 3x the retail price. Hamsters are more expensive though and more trouble! My hamster escaped and made many mousters in our basement when I was a kid.

Introductions on the Job--First Day

You must know the characters in the story: My first day on job a trainer-type person (I shall now change names---remember this is not my book you are reading, but you will get the idea, oh, my Word is still not speaking to Blogger, so excuse the grammar blips), Estelle, took the newly hired group of we, five, around the 9 story building to meet people we would be dealing with.



Out of all the first day introductions I have had (and by way of my numerous jobs, I have had many) this one was extraordinary. Perhaps comparing it to Perez Hilton and Whoopi Goldberg morphed into one person best demonstrates the absurdity of it. It was so strange, I loved it! I was not in Kansas anymore, er, Indiana, and this day was proof.



With each person we met, Estelle smiled sweetly, then as we walked to the next she would tell us all the gossip/dirt/history of that person. It was just the weirdest thing. But it was so...real. In fact, over the years as I came to know all those people, there was not a single fact Estelle got wrong. She told us who was having an affair with whom, who was a liar, who we should never trust, who was upstanding, who was insane. Estelle struck me, that day, as the craziest person I'd ever met and I felt like was flying over the cuckoo's nest, until we reached OUR floor of customer service reps., that's when I was in for a surprise.



My unit was a circus. Blinking red lights on the phones meant that a caller was in queue, waiting, to be helped. There were more red lights flashing than at any Christmas party. The employees were sitting right there, ignoring the phones, laughing, eating, talking to other employees who were walking around aimlessly. They were talking on another phone line (each phone system had several lines, silly me to think it was a business reason) or reading MAD magazine. What I didn't notice ONE rep. doing was talking to a customer.



There were two supervisors, seated in a cubicle up to their neck (everyone could see everyone else over their dividers), located in the middle of the ring, er, office, and they both were busy working on paperwork, both very earnest, yet, were they clueless? My mind was racing with, "I am sooo going to smoke at this job! I will promote! This is going to be a cake walk! Yipeee!" and "I can't believe these people are getting paid so much. No wonder electric rates are high." (The exact same thing my former boss at Bethlehem Steel said to me the day he tried to give me a raise to keep me.)



What Estelle said about the two supervisors, one a sweet, upper 30s Filipino woman that Estelle was a good friend of, and one a somewhat younger obviously (to me anyway) gay guy, is so personal in nature and crude as only Estelle could be, I won't repeat it here---but both were apparently in denial, beaten down, or burned out. How many times can you tell someone to "get to work?"



Here are some who will figure prominently in the event that my story is based on. Let's start with "The Men's Club" members. The year was 1986, and City Light was in the media and in court for discrimination charges from African Americans and women. City Light had a big problem and Seattle and City Light knew it. Nooses on lunch boxes, female line workers accidentally falling off poles, shifty promotions, on and on. When I heard there was a "Men's Club" in my unit, yeah, I couldn't believe it. They were not hiding behind white hoods, no, they were proud and recruiting openly. I just HAD to meet these goof balls.



My chance came quickly as I was seated at the desk of Bradley to "listen in," to his handling of phone calls. He was a hulk of a man with a voice deeper than a rumbling earthquake. In the future I would transfer complaining customers who, "...want to speak to a man. " He sounded like he could pulverize any super villain, yet he was as gentle as a teddy bear. That day, while waiting to hear my first call, his second line rang and he answered it.

"Hey, motherf*****! How..." CLICK Bradley swiftly hung up on his friend. My facial expression didn't budge and Bradley let one of the many waiting calls from customers come through. A month later, Bradley would pull me aside in the stairwell and tell me in his deep voice, "You are taking too many calls. Slow down." He was not joking. I was not impressed, in fact I was furious and from that day on made it my goal to take at least 100 calls a day. (The average was around 30 from most of the cuckoos, and their reasons why were nothing short of amazing.)

Jim was tall, like Bradley, but thin. He was quiet, soft spoken, and took breaks with Brad in between their many whispering conversations. They often held The Men's Club at one of their homes. No women were invited and no blacks, or any other minorities I'm aware of. So, I did the only sensible thing---I asked if I could join.

This sent TMC into a lather and after much discussion they told me, of course, after all, all they did was play games. In later years I would learn the extra discussions that went on during and after these games. My point was to put them on notice. How they got away with being so brazen with their"club" for so long was a mystery to me, except that someone higher up thought it was A-OK. The superintendent at the time was Randy Hardy, and I liked him a lot, so it was lower ranks that found the club innocent.

Tom was an openly gay guy who often sat with his feet on his desk, red light flashing and in the years he was there I never ONCE heard him speak to a customer, not once. (And I sat next to him for some months, as the newbies had no permanent desks, as a matter of fact I started as only a Temp status, though we all were eventually hired permanently.)

Joe took about 20 calls a day. I couldn't wait to sit in with him. His supervisor could often be seen trying to tell Joe how better to handle a customer, but Joe always fought back. He often accused me of not handling the account processing part of the calls properly. (New people---surprise---always took many more calls than the permanents. It was a given that once we were in the Union and permanent, then we would wise up and goof off.) To Joe I said, "prove it" and he and I would fight this fight for over a decade. His proof never appeared, and his supervisors knew the truth. Joe talked down to customers and was so confusing I don't know how anyone ever understood him. I never knew if he was real or game playing. He stayed to himself though. He was NOT a member of TMC.

Jaycee was cool, I liked her, but she didn't bathe all the time and always wore a black leather jacket. She was smart, a good rep., and took a lot of calls. She was black, a good mother, married woman who was quiet as a mouse. She had NOTHING to do with TMC. Most of the blacks there hung together and for good reason. Jaycee would be hit by a car while heading home to her family and reports were that she was crawling on all fours in the crosswalk. Our manager had her desk immediately cleared out, so fast that many co-workers would walk by and say, "Where's Jaycee?" It was so sad. The week before she died she asked me how life insurance worked and my advice on getting some for her kids. She got some. The facts behind her death remained a mystery.

As I sat with different reps., it was clear that the white employees were slackers and the minorities were gettin' the job done. Then I sat with a woman who cussed after every call. Her fuse was shorter than Tom Thumb's thumb. I sat with a woman who took 2-hour lunch breaks, daily. I sat next to a woman who watched her mini TV all day, one who typed with one finger (NOT due to MS, due to not knowing how to type, actually few of them did), one who read a Bible all day, one who talked with her kids or ex all day, and then I sat with a woman in Birkenstocks who knew what the job required. My thought was, "Whew! They are not all crazy people." She and I would become friends.

There were about 10 reps. who worked hard and knew what they were doing, 50% of them were one or the other. And staff meetings? That was the real big top! 15 kindergartners couldn't have acted less mature. Nobody was in charge and there was no agenda. Fights would erupt, coke cans would go flying, papers shoved into trash cans---I would share a glance at a friend who also saw the madness and without him I never could have kept my sanity.

It is late. These are just a few of the characters. More to come.

A Job Colored in Fate. Destiny in Seattle.

Since I had picked up bags of mail from the loading dock behind the main post office and since I had loaded those heavy bags onto/off of semis when I worked for the postal service in Ft. Wayne, I ran to the loading dock and yelled through the padlocked gate to the workers doing just that.

One guy came over, heard my story and took my postcard, assuring me he would have it postmarked in time. I made it.

A few weeks later I got the call---Seattle City Light wanted to interview me. The job that I hoped to retire from after 30 years, was mine. How greatly it would effect my entire future could never have been imaginable. How incredibly Seattle was about to be changed, no one saw coming. Right place, right time, I call it fate, my destiny. And the beginning was as dramatic as the ending would be.

Four Minutes to Change a Life OR The Clash of Bethlehem Steel and City Light

Okay, yes, this is a blog about a person "living with MS" but it was NEVER meant to be about a person obsessed with MS. MS is a very, very, small part of who I am and has little to do with what I think about on a day to day basis. I was excited beyond imagination in 1990 when the NY Times ran "A Cure Found For Multiple Sclerosis" but nothing has excited me since. You know? I mean, call me when you A.) have a cure OR B.) can repair me---otherwise, I am 52 and life must go on.

2010 will bring a new chapter to my life (pun intended) as I focus on my writing of several books I plan. One book will be about my quest to walk again. My most crucial one will be about an event at one of my last jobs. That story follows me like my shadow, for over a decade now, it begs me to tell the tale of a group of people mixed up in a muck of hatred, cruelty, lies, friendship, and compassion---all with the backdrop of a dysfunctional city job in a nuclear exploding wild ride towards skyrocketing heights. It is about abuse of power among the powerless. It is a mystery, a thriller, a head scratcher to the end.

At least these are all the emotions I must deal with when I write about that time, that event, those people, in my life.

Future posts will introduce you to elements of the story, as I test the waters of its grip. Will you be as interested as I was/am? Will you care as I did/do? Yes, Santa Claus, there is a Virginia Ham...I digress...yes, I will be using you. So, please comment hardily. I feel like I know some of you well enough to find your meaning.

I hope you will join me. Let's begin. This, for now, is my memoir:

1986, I had lived in Seattle for 4 years and was working at Bethlehem Steel. That job, which took me from security guard to receptionist to OSHA manager to Benefits Coordinator, to the tip of Personnel Manager, took me from having my pay checks signed by Northwest Protective Service to Bethlehem Steel to Seattle Steel, was stifling in its flagrant discrimination against African Americans and crumbling leadership. A sinking steel ship.

When I saw an ad in the newspaper for a City Light Customer Service Representative, I immediately sent off my resume. The test they gave was MATH--ugh, not this drama student's strong suit. Not just any math, crazy-ass math that most of Seattle still can't figure out: electrical rate billing "the first 300 kWh @ .0047 and the next @ .0063 until summer then the first 200 @..." well, you get the idea. I bombed out on the exam. It made NO sense to me. Unless, I actually had understood.

Wasn't my certificate from Sears Repair and my year at a technical college studying electronics worth something? I knew my amps and watts...hope...hope.

Alas, my phone never rang and life at the hapless steel mill went on. One Saturday, about a year later, my partner and I stopped for the KFC, chicken that is, and in our mail was a dirty, crumpled, postcard with a large yellow "this is the last time we will forward for you" sticker across it. It was from City Light and they wanted to see me. Woo Hoo!! Then my jaw dropped.

"You must reply with a post mark no later than___" Yep, that very day was ____.
KFC dropped faster than my jaw. It was almost 6PM and I knew the mail boxes stopped being collected them. (Thanks to all my runs there picking up the steel mill's mail.)

"Get in the car!" I barked to my clueless partner, who would in fact follow me without question to the ends of the earth. (Yes, I know how lucky I am.)

Driving as fast as my Astre (don't ask) would go, we went straight to the main post office. Thanks to a previous stint at the post office, I knew they could still postmark my card. As we drove up, I saw a man lock the front doors. It was 6:04PM

"Stay here," I again barked. (See, I am barking, not her, be nice to me.)

Running up to the door, I was shouting, "Hey!" and as I pounded like a crazy person on the glass door, I could see the man. He turned, looked at his watch, and shrugging his shoulders, turned back away from me.

My life flashed before my eyes. I knew the strict and necessary rules of the U.S. Postal Service...could four, five, minutes really do me in? This was a once in a lifetime chance...

Monk Says Good Bye

Monk ends tonight. Will he find Trudy's killer?

Green Tea and Yeast Chemicals Heal Brain?

Green tea chemical combined with another may hold promise for treatment of brain disorders
Watertown, MA—Scientists at Boston Biomedical Research Institute (BBRI) and the University of Pennsylvania have found that combining two chemicals, one of which is the green tea component EGCG, can prevent and destroy a variety of protein structures known as amyloids. Amyloids are the primary culprits in fatal brain disorders such as Alzheimer's, Huntington's, and Parkinson's diseases. Their study, published in the current issue of Nature Chemical Biology (December 2009), may ultimately contribute to future therapies for these diseases.
"These findings are significant because it is the first time a combination of specific chemicals has successfully destroyed diverse forms of amyloids at the same time," says Dr. Martin Duennwald of BBRI, who co-led the study with Dr. James Shorter of University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine.
For decades a major goal of neurological research has been finding a way to prevent the formation of and to break up and destroy amyloid plaques in the brains and nervous systems of people with Alzheimer's and other degenerative diseases before they wreak havoc.
Amyloid plaques are tightly packed sheets of proteins that infiltrate the brain. These plaques, which are stable and seemingly impenetrable, fill nerve cells or wrap around brain tissues and eventually (as in the case of Alzheimer's) suffocate vital neurons or brain cells, causing loss of memory, language, motor function and eventually premature death.
To date, researchers have had no success in destroying plaques in the human brain and only minimal success in the laboratory. One reason for these difficulties in finding compounds that can dissolve amyloids is their immense stability and their complex composition.
Yet, Duennwald experienced success in previous studies when he exposed amyloids in living yeast cells to EGCG. Furthermore, he and his collaborators also found before that DAPH-12, too, inhibits amyloid production in yeast.
In their new study, the team decided to look in more detail at the impact of these two chemicals on the production of different amyloids produced by the yeast amyloid protein known as PSI+. They chose this yeast amyloid protein because it has been studied extensively in the past, and because it produces varieties of amyloid structures that are prototypes of those found in the damaged human brain. Thus, PSI+ amyloids are excellent experimental paradigms to study basic properties of all amyloid proteins.
The team's first step was to expose two different amyloid structures produced by yeast (e.g., a weak version and a strong version) to EGCG. They found that the EGCG effectively dissolved the amyloids in the weaker version. To their surprise, they found that the stronger amyloids were not dissolved and that some transformed to even stronger versions after exposure to EGCG.
The team then exposed the yeast amyloid structures to a combination of the EGCG and the DAPH-12 and found that all of the amyloid structures broke apart and dissolved.
The next steps for the research team will be to explore the mechanism and potency of such a combinatorial therapy for the treatment of diverse neurodegenerative diseases.
"Our findings are certainly preliminary and we need further work to fully comprehend the effects of EGCG in combination with other chemicals on amyloids. Yet, we see our study as a very exciting initial step towards combinatorial therapies for the treatment of amyloid-based diseases," says Duennwald.
###
Authors of the study include: Martin L Duennwald and Chan Chung from Boston Biomedical Research Institute and Nicholas P Lopreiato, Elizabeth A Sweeny, M Noelle Knight, James Shorter, Huan Wang, and Blake E Roberts from the Department of Biochemistry and Biophysics, University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine.
The Boston Biomedical Research Institute is a not-for-profit institution dedicated to the understanding, treatment, and prevention of specific human diseases such as muscular dystrophy, cancer, cardiovascular disease, and Alzheimer's. For more information, visit us on the web at www.bbri.org.

Common Cold and MS Knocks Me Down

Here is what I don't understand: So, I catch a cold, not a bad cold, just runny nose, a day of sore throat, some coughing, but on day two my MS slams me---taking out my left arm and hand/fingers. Day two I could not, my caregiver could not, force my left arm out of a bent position or unclench fingers. This made transferring to the toilet and power chair impossible; I had to be lifted, also called a pivitol transfer. Two people were required for a trip to loo.

Newbies, I believe, call this a relapse and race to call their doctor. By day three at 8AM (NOT at 6-8AM), I was perfectly "back to normal." Now, taking into consideration the latest and greatest MS discovery/theory that MS is vascular, that too much iron seeps through the blood brain barrier---HOW does one explain what happened to me?

It was scary, because with MS you just never know when some malfunction will go away or if it will become the new normal. I thought for sure that after a good night's sleep, all stretched out, my problem would be gone, but it wasn't at 6AM. Oh, and my partner's final tooth from hell surgery was due the next day. (rains it pours) BUT, 8AM---all gone. How?

If it was overactive T-cells, why did they only choose those nerves? that spot in my brain? And how did they recover so fast, faster than my cold? (The cold I still have, but then look at how little we know about preventing the common cold---NOTHING.)

These medical mysteries are so far from being solved that I think many researchers prefer a health condition they have a shot at curing, preventing, knowing. Right now, MS is guessing. Take facts (you see symptoms and MRI shows plaque-like build ups) and GUESS! Take your guess and make drugs to follow up, knowing the placebo effect alone will make your drug help hundreds of people...and if you guess right? EUREKA! Great rewards for all.

For now, I am back to my normal, my partner's tooth surgery was finally a success! (Thanks to a better Dr.) Christmas preparations will continue, the second book I donated to library here was quickly checked out (WHY this seems to bother people I don't know, hey, great idea! I will place a sign in library to tell residents here that the book-mobile can bring them a copy!) and Seattle's moon is brightest I've ever seen.

A good MS scare helps you put life into keen perspective at warp speed. Let the guessing games proceed!

MS in Hollywood and Your Home

NEW YORK, Dec. 1 (UPI) -- Hollywood star Teri Garr adds her voice to more than 30 others who write about their journey with multiple sclerosis in a new book.
Garr, an Oscar-nominated actress
best known for her movies "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," "Mr. Mom" and "Tootsie," revealed in 2002 that she has multiple sclerosis. Like many with MS, it took a long time to diagnose, Garr said she started noticing symptoms while filming "Tootsie" in 1982, but a diagnosis took years.
Garr wrote the introduction to the book "Voices of Multiple Sclerosis: The Healing Companion: Stories for Courage, Comfort and Strength" which recounts the stories of 33 spouses, children, friends and patients living with MS.
In the book, a daughter describes watching her mother balance her disease and an active life in "Recollection," while a physician with MS says laughter is the best medicine when answering questions about her diagnosis in "Telling the World."
The book is the seventh in a series of books that provide real-life stories as an avenue of support and hope for those who must live with chronic and life-threatening illnesses.
Debra LaChance said the anthology was conceptualized when she was diagnosed with breast cancer and she sought out the personal stories of those who had been through what she was experiencing.
"Voices of Multiple Sclerosis" is available at bookstores and online at LaChance Publishing at" www.lachancepublishing.com.

Bridget Loves Bernie and Bernice TOO!

Meredith Baxter, the actress I never stopped loving since the TV comedy "Bridget Loves Bernie," has come out as a lesbian. Even though I am 52, it still thrills me to not feel so alone---that others are gay too. How weird is that?

Why are Human's Taking Over God's Job?

I am no Bible expert, not even a student of, but does it seem that the very religious have decided, chosen, to take over God's job? Those who profess such love of Bible and other books/words of God, have chosen to become enforcer, judger, and sometimes executioner.

The recent cop killing in Seattle showed us a man who asked a barista (at the coffee shop where he attacked the police) if she believed in God. I recall a Columbine killer asking one of his victims the same question. What I don't know is what their point is. Does the murderer really care if a belief in God is floating around? What powers in the universe have endowed him with the power to ask such a question and then take a life?

Whether the answer is "yes" or "no" makes no matter, as a madman will take your life today. Still, sometimes God is brought into this sick equation of gun+anger=death.

-Godxgun+anger, still equals death, just as God2 +gun+anger=death. So, is the killer angry at God? Somehow God has entered his mind during the moment. Does he feel powerful, like God, to be able to take a life?

What kind of insane man murders an Amish family? Did their horse sneeze on his truck as he sped past their carriage? If that was not an act against a religion I can't imagine one. Sometimes I think many murderers are meaning to release anger at God. Once in prison these madmen become servants of the words of God. The 9-11 suspects praised God (I will use "God" to cover all God's names) before, during, and those involved who still live--after; how can they feel such a powerful entity needs their help to right a wrong?

People deep in their religious beliefs should let God do his own job, and they need to stay busy tending their own garden. As parents, as adults, it is our job to teach children right from wrong as we know it, but as children become adults it is their job to live and learn. Our life may be longer than a fly, but it is shorter than many clams; it may be better lived to do our job and let God do his...unless you think yourself better than your God.

Murderer Update

Update: Murder suspect ran from police officer, who had ordered him to stop after jumping out of a stolen car across town, and was shot dead. (He was far from the area he started in.) 3am Tues.