No, I haven’t been there yet. My comment is limited to the news coverage. A woman from the casino was interviewed prior to the opening and made comments about watching the clientele for symptoms of gambling addiction. The next interview was with a woman who looked about 60, with no teeth, who came all the way from Buffalo to try the new casino.
All I can say is…you have money to gamble but not for the dentist? If that is not a symptom of gambling addiction, I don’t know what is.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Politics, the bedroom, and democracy...
I know everyone won’t agree with me, but I think politicians on both sides of the fence need to stay the hell out of the bedrooms of American citizens. Quite frankly, it’s none of their business what consenting adults do behind closed doors. This country is suffering a nasty economy, with too much war, not enough jobs, high prices, lack of medical care, needy children, needy seniors and general instability. Elected officials are supposed to work together for the betterment of this nation; that is their job. Telling me who I can or cannot sleep with or who I can or cannot marry is not included in that job description.
I am tired of the sniping, accusations, in-fighting, and mud-slinging. Stop, already. You officials were elected to work for us, not against us. Stop trying to legislate every aspect of our personal lives and get on with the important stuff. Our founding fathers put forth a constitution meant to protect the citizens of this great country and ensure our freedoms. I am positive the signers of the constitution are looking down on the body of the Congress, the Senate, and the members of both parties with anger and disgust as personal greed and the quest for power taint every single thing that happens in Washington.
Although I am a registered Democrat, I have never voted the party line in ignorance. I follow the candidates and vote for the person I feel is most qualified and has shown that he or she has our interests at heart, rather than his or her own. For example, I voted for George Herbert Walker Bush. I thought he was an excellent president. I did not vote for George W. Bush, who I personally thought was ill suited to represent our country on a global stage. I did not, however, send scathing, derogatory e-mails or make nasty hate-mongering posts about him. Do you know why? Because personal feelings aside, he was the President of the United States. Liking him or not liking him really didn’t matter. He was the President, and by virtue of the office, deserved the respect of the citizens of the United States, myself included.
President Obama deserves the same respect, whether you voted for him or not; whether you agree with him or not, whether you like him or not. For better or for worse, he is our President, and by virtue of the office deserves our respect. I can’t begin to describe the irritation I feel when I receive nasty e-mails or see posts referring to our President as “presidunce” or other derogatory terms. I don’t pass them on, and I don’t repost them. I didn’t do that with the nasty stuff I received about President Bush either.
What happened to common human decency? Is this the way your parents taught you to act toward authority figures? Spreading hate is not the way for this country to turn itself around. Treating everyone with respect doesn’t make you a sheep. If you disagree with the politics, you are free to cast your vote. That is the basis of democracy. We need get back to it and soon.
I am tired of the sniping, accusations, in-fighting, and mud-slinging. Stop, already. You officials were elected to work for us, not against us. Stop trying to legislate every aspect of our personal lives and get on with the important stuff. Our founding fathers put forth a constitution meant to protect the citizens of this great country and ensure our freedoms. I am positive the signers of the constitution are looking down on the body of the Congress, the Senate, and the members of both parties with anger and disgust as personal greed and the quest for power taint every single thing that happens in Washington.
Although I am a registered Democrat, I have never voted the party line in ignorance. I follow the candidates and vote for the person I feel is most qualified and has shown that he or she has our interests at heart, rather than his or her own. For example, I voted for George Herbert Walker Bush. I thought he was an excellent president. I did not vote for George W. Bush, who I personally thought was ill suited to represent our country on a global stage. I did not, however, send scathing, derogatory e-mails or make nasty hate-mongering posts about him. Do you know why? Because personal feelings aside, he was the President of the United States. Liking him or not liking him really didn’t matter. He was the President, and by virtue of the office, deserved the respect of the citizens of the United States, myself included.
President Obama deserves the same respect, whether you voted for him or not; whether you agree with him or not, whether you like him or not. For better or for worse, he is our President, and by virtue of the office deserves our respect. I can’t begin to describe the irritation I feel when I receive nasty e-mails or see posts referring to our President as “presidunce” or other derogatory terms. I don’t pass them on, and I don’t repost them. I didn’t do that with the nasty stuff I received about President Bush either.
What happened to common human decency? Is this the way your parents taught you to act toward authority figures? Spreading hate is not the way for this country to turn itself around. Treating everyone with respect doesn’t make you a sheep. If you disagree with the politics, you are free to cast your vote. That is the basis of democracy. We need get back to it and soon.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
When writing takes a back seat...
Everyone has something that they truly like doing. Some like sports; some like acting; some like reading…you get my drift. When they indulge themselves in their pursuits, they find comfort and a modicum of satisfaction that they can’t find elsewhere. I get that feeling from writing. So why is it that when I put off something else to get writing accomplished I feel guilty, as though I am being selfish by putting my need to write above other things?
It’s always, I can’t write until the laundry is done, the dishes are cleaned, the groceries are purchased, the checks are written for the bills. My office is too messy, I have to make that phone call…”my life goes on in endless song, above earth’s lamentations.”
At one time or another, all creatives feel their work is undervalued. Sometimes that is a self-imposed feeling, sometimes it is a lack of self worth, and sometimes it is the result of undue criticism. Once at a family gathering, I was seeking help in naming a book I had written. When I explained what the book was about, someone said, “Who the hell would want to read that?”
Now I’m not what you would call a bible scholar, but I went home from that gathering and starting looking for a particular quote. When I found it, I printed it out and posted it directly over the computer screen, where I could see it every time I sat down to write. If you are a creative, I suggest you do the same.
Mark 6:4 "A prophet is honored everywhere, except in his hometown, among his relatives, and in his own house."
Perfect strangers loved the book, but this relative placed its value at less than nothing. Deep down, these kinds of comments whittle away at your self esteem and self worth. They make you wonder if that thing you love doing is worth the time you spend doing it, and they make you wonder if that thing you love doing is at least as important as the mundane stuff that needs to be done.
Stop wondering. Make time for that thing you love doing. If you are criticized, ignore it. Even the bible tells you to expect no respect from your family. Expand. Take your creations to those who don’t know you and don’t judge you by some preconceived set of standards. I’m not saying you won’t get criticism, but at least it will be criticism of the actual creation and not criticism of you based on familiarity.
And now, back to my writing!
It’s always, I can’t write until the laundry is done, the dishes are cleaned, the groceries are purchased, the checks are written for the bills. My office is too messy, I have to make that phone call…”my life goes on in endless song, above earth’s lamentations.”
At one time or another, all creatives feel their work is undervalued. Sometimes that is a self-imposed feeling, sometimes it is a lack of self worth, and sometimes it is the result of undue criticism. Once at a family gathering, I was seeking help in naming a book I had written. When I explained what the book was about, someone said, “Who the hell would want to read that?”
Now I’m not what you would call a bible scholar, but I went home from that gathering and starting looking for a particular quote. When I found it, I printed it out and posted it directly over the computer screen, where I could see it every time I sat down to write. If you are a creative, I suggest you do the same.
Mark 6:4 "A prophet is honored everywhere, except in his hometown, among his relatives, and in his own house."
Perfect strangers loved the book, but this relative placed its value at less than nothing. Deep down, these kinds of comments whittle away at your self esteem and self worth. They make you wonder if that thing you love doing is worth the time you spend doing it, and they make you wonder if that thing you love doing is at least as important as the mundane stuff that needs to be done.
Stop wondering. Make time for that thing you love doing. If you are criticized, ignore it. Even the bible tells you to expect no respect from your family. Expand. Take your creations to those who don’t know you and don’t judge you by some preconceived set of standards. I’m not saying you won’t get criticism, but at least it will be criticism of the actual creation and not criticism of you based on familiarity.
And now, back to my writing!
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Sunday the 15th
I started to write a blog on Friday the 13th, but since nothing untoward happened that day, I changed my mind. As a matter of fact, Friday was quite a good day. It was beautifully sunny with blue skies and few clouds. I went to lunch with two wonderful friends and had a lovely time. I came home and made a tasty spinach-garlic fettuccini salad and then we drove to Chardon for a family gathering of cousins. (I have to give a shout out to my cousin Betsy for hosting the shindig.)
For those wondering about the recovery process, there are a few updates. The post-op check-up went well. I saw the x-rays and it is quite amazing how far down the femur the titanium implant goes! The ball and socket were tightly seated and everything looked just as it should. I have graduated from the walker to a cane. Although I had no problem making the transition, I find that I am suddenly limping again. This is either nasty habit from before the surgery or an issue of weakness in the hip muscles on the surgical side. Physical therapy should correct any muscle weakness, and I’m working hard not to limp when I walk. I have one more week of in-home PT, then I transition to outpatient therapy…and yes that means I will be driving! One more week of no wheels and then look out!
Of course it is likely that the only places I’ll be driving to are physical therapy and visiting my mother in the rehab center where she is presently recuperating. After five weeks of house confinement, my endurance is a bit low and I find that when I go out I get tired much more easily. This too will end once I am back to normal. My next seven weeks will be concentrated PT, writing, and visiting Mom. Then back to work I go.
I hope to have more to write about soon. Recuperation and house confinement really don’t lend themselves to subjects of interest!
For those wondering about the recovery process, there are a few updates. The post-op check-up went well. I saw the x-rays and it is quite amazing how far down the femur the titanium implant goes! The ball and socket were tightly seated and everything looked just as it should. I have graduated from the walker to a cane. Although I had no problem making the transition, I find that I am suddenly limping again. This is either nasty habit from before the surgery or an issue of weakness in the hip muscles on the surgical side. Physical therapy should correct any muscle weakness, and I’m working hard not to limp when I walk. I have one more week of in-home PT, then I transition to outpatient therapy…and yes that means I will be driving! One more week of no wheels and then look out!
Of course it is likely that the only places I’ll be driving to are physical therapy and visiting my mother in the rehab center where she is presently recuperating. After five weeks of house confinement, my endurance is a bit low and I find that when I go out I get tired much more easily. This too will end once I am back to normal. My next seven weeks will be concentrated PT, writing, and visiting Mom. Then back to work I go.
I hope to have more to write about soon. Recuperation and house confinement really don’t lend themselves to subjects of interest!
Saturday, March 24, 2012
The Last of the Lovenox...
One of the most annoying post-surgical necessities is the need for blood thinners to prevent blood clots. Since I came straight home rather than heading from the hospital to a rehab facility, I had to administer a daily dose of Lovenox subcutaneously into my abdomen.
Before I left the hospital, I was required to view an instructional video. Choose the site, clean with alcohol, remove the cap from the syringe, insert the needle into the site, depress the plunger, count to three, remove the needle, activate the protective sleeve over the needle, and dispose of the syringe in a sharps container.
For me, this was pretty academic. I waited for about an hour for the nurse to come back so that I could demonstrate that I was capable of administering my own shot. Jim sat patiently on the bed, anxious to load me in the car and head home.
When she finally returned, I opened the syringe and alcohol wipe packages, cleaned the site, removed the cap, gave myself the shot, and properly disposed of the equipment. She looked at me like I had two heads. “That was amazing,” she said. “I just spent the better part of the last hour explaining and re-explaining to the woman in the next room how to do that.”
It never ceases to amaze me how some people make something so simple into something so complex and onerous.
Regardless of the simplicity, I have to say that my abdomen, after 14 consecutive days of Lovenox shots, looks as though I have tattooed myself with a landscape of forsythia bushes and swirls of yellowish clouds. It should be interesting to watch as the colors of the landscape change over the next week or two.
Before I left the hospital, I was required to view an instructional video. Choose the site, clean with alcohol, remove the cap from the syringe, insert the needle into the site, depress the plunger, count to three, remove the needle, activate the protective sleeve over the needle, and dispose of the syringe in a sharps container.
For me, this was pretty academic. I waited for about an hour for the nurse to come back so that I could demonstrate that I was capable of administering my own shot. Jim sat patiently on the bed, anxious to load me in the car and head home.
When she finally returned, I opened the syringe and alcohol wipe packages, cleaned the site, removed the cap, gave myself the shot, and properly disposed of the equipment. She looked at me like I had two heads. “That was amazing,” she said. “I just spent the better part of the last hour explaining and re-explaining to the woman in the next room how to do that.”
It never ceases to amaze me how some people make something so simple into something so complex and onerous.
Regardless of the simplicity, I have to say that my abdomen, after 14 consecutive days of Lovenox shots, looks as though I have tattooed myself with a landscape of forsythia bushes and swirls of yellowish clouds. It should be interesting to watch as the colors of the landscape change over the next week or two.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Two Weeks Out and Counting...
As I walked around the house for the 500th time, slowly and deliberately, putting no more than 75% of my weight on the new hip joint while relegating the other 25% to the walker and my arms, it occurred to me that the surgery involved actual skeletal dismemberment. I’m happy I didn’t think of it that way beforehand! If you’ve been dismembered, are you then re-membered when they put you back together? I suppose not. Deconstructed and reconstructed would probably be better descriptors.
So how am I doing? I think I’m doing rather well. Two weeks ago at this time I was lying in a hospital bed, attempting to get some sleep, which my roommate managed to keep me from achieving. PT finally came to get me up out of bed for the first time on Thursday afternoon. I was hurting, mostly from the incision, but I had nowhere near the level of pain I had before going under the knife. When the surgeon came in Friday morning and asked if I was ready to go home, I thought he had lost his mind. I stayed the extra day, and I’m glad that I did.
The home health PT keeps asking about my pain levels, and when I tell her 1 or 2, she looks at me like I’m crazy. I have a rather high threshold for pain; maybe for someone else this would be a 5 or 6. I’m anxious to get to my follow up visit in two more weeks. Perhaps I will be allowed to move from the walker to a cane. Of course, I may miss my walker and its little basket in which I am transporting things like bottles of water, books, and other printed materials I’m working on over the course of the day.
I’m also looking forward to the time (hopefully soon) when I can sit and type for more than an hour without the operative leg swelling up. It is considerably less than it was at first, but I’m still not quite there.
We’ll have a post-surgical redux after the post-op visit!
So how am I doing? I think I’m doing rather well. Two weeks ago at this time I was lying in a hospital bed, attempting to get some sleep, which my roommate managed to keep me from achieving. PT finally came to get me up out of bed for the first time on Thursday afternoon. I was hurting, mostly from the incision, but I had nowhere near the level of pain I had before going under the knife. When the surgeon came in Friday morning and asked if I was ready to go home, I thought he had lost his mind. I stayed the extra day, and I’m glad that I did.
The home health PT keeps asking about my pain levels, and when I tell her 1 or 2, she looks at me like I’m crazy. I have a rather high threshold for pain; maybe for someone else this would be a 5 or 6. I’m anxious to get to my follow up visit in two more weeks. Perhaps I will be allowed to move from the walker to a cane. Of course, I may miss my walker and its little basket in which I am transporting things like bottles of water, books, and other printed materials I’m working on over the course of the day.
I’m also looking forward to the time (hopefully soon) when I can sit and type for more than an hour without the operative leg swelling up. It is considerably less than it was at first, but I’m still not quite there.
We’ll have a post-surgical redux after the post-op visit!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
11:39 p.m. about 6 hours pre-op…
I hope the surgeon is sleeping well. I’m not. I hit the hay at 10, knowing I had to get up at 4 a.m. to skin prep with sterile scrub pads, air dry, get dressed, and make my way down to the main campus of Cleveland Clinic. I’m now up for the third time since I crawled into bed. The wind is howling; the furnace is loud; and I’m suffering from a bad case of pre-operative nerves.
There is no reason for me to believe that this surgery won’t go well. After all, people get their hips replaced all the time. They all swear it’s the best thing they ever did. And I’m younger than most replacement candidates. But, the older I get, the more hesitant I am to go under the knife. In this case, it is an absolute necessity, and I want to say to the surgeon “Call in a few of your colleagues, because as long as I’m going to be under anesthesia, you might as well fix all the other things, too. Let’s see, a face lift would do nicely, and let’s not forget the bat-wing removal, the circumferential body lift, breast reduction and lift, butt lift, and thighplasty. Oh and throw in a little lipo where ever it’s needed, okay?”
There is no reason for me to believe that this surgery won’t go well. After all, people get their hips replaced all the time. They all swear it’s the best thing they ever did. And I’m younger than most replacement candidates. But, the older I get, the more hesitant I am to go under the knife. In this case, it is an absolute necessity, and I want to say to the surgeon “Call in a few of your colleagues, because as long as I’m going to be under anesthesia, you might as well fix all the other things, too. Let’s see, a face lift would do nicely, and let’s not forget the bat-wing removal, the circumferential body lift, breast reduction and lift, butt lift, and thighplasty. Oh and throw in a little lipo where ever it’s needed, okay?”
It is now midnight. I will head back to bed and try again. And if any of you readers out there want to send some good thoughts and a few prayers my way for a successful tomorrow, they will gladly be accepted!
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