My Health team + One

The latest member of my Team is the one that installed my feeding tube & Porta-Cath last Wednesday.

Jozsef Lukacs, M.D.

Jozsef Lukacs, M.D. serves as a Staff Radiologist in the Interventional Radiology section of the Department of Diagnostic Imaging at Providence Portland Medical Center andalso serves as a Staff Radiologist for the Portland Endovascular / Interventional Radiology Clinic (PERC).
Dr. Lukacs received his MD degree from the University of California, San Francisco School of Medicine. After training for one year in Internal Medicine at Baylor College of Medicine, he entered Radiology Residency at the University of Texas, Health Science Center and M. D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston Texas.
Dr. Lukacs completed a Fellowship Training in Cardiovascular and Interventional Radiology at Stanford University Medical Center. While at Stanford, Dr. Lukacs worked on research projects, including laser disc surgery of the spine, thrombosis and aneurysm repair. Current interests include arterial and venous stenting, aortic aneurysm repair, thrombolysis, laser treatment of varicose veins, uterine fibroid embolization and tumor therapy. Dr Lukacs has special interest in treatment of back pain, including vertebroplasty, chronic pain management and minimally invasive disc removal.
When not practicing medicine, Dr. Lukacs enjoys time with his family. They have traveled throughout the world and enjoy the outdoor offerings of Oregon, including windsurfing, hiking, skiing, boating and SCUBA diving.

SUZANNE-Too

According to the writer, Leonard Cohen, he wrote this song in 1966 and his album came out in 1968. I seem to have an earlier recollection, which is probably wrong, but since it doesn’t impact the story I will go along with those dates. I do remember that when I heard the song it grabbed me in some very deep parts of my innards.

“For she's touched your perfect body with her mind”

That line was the coupe de grace and turned me into putty.

That was the background, so here’s the story. In 1968 I was traveling to Majorca two to three times a year to handle an import business that I was running after my father passed away. I would spend three weeks at the Victoria Hotel, primarily a tourist hotel, and conduct my business meetings in the mornings and late afternoons.

Majorca is the largest of a group of islands in the Mediterranean off the coast of Spain, known as the Balearic Islands and at the time I was going there the area was known as the “Scandinavian Riviera”. There were, therefore, a lot of Swedish, Danish and Norwegian women of all ages that would arrive by the planeload and the social activities at the hotel included a live band and dancing every evening. Working in Spain meant that there was a siesta built into the workday where the time after lunch was designed for rest so the afternoon workday didn’t continue until after 4 PM. Dinner hours usually started after 8 PM. Except for the tourist hotels, the luncheon meal was usually a much larger event than the evening meal, which was usually a light supper.

On one particular night in June, which just happened to be my birthday, I was hanging around the nightclub part of the hotel, listening to the music and dancing with some of the single women that were there and generally feeling alone because there was no one there that I had ever met before and I somehow wasn’t very interested in anyone there.

Immediately adjacent to the dance hall was the outdoor pool and I wandered out there to be alone with my thoughts. As I was sitting alone in the semi-lit area a group of four people, three young men and a young lady came out of the dance hall and were frolicking around the pool. I was immediately attracted to the young lady who was the center of attention of the three men without seeming to be associated with any one man. They ran around and “frolicked” for quite awhile around the pool area and I didn’t think that they noticed me nor did I feel that I inhibited them in any way. They were not speaking English but I could not identify what language they were speaking. The best I can do to describe the young lady is to say that she seemed the “free spirit” type and she was certainly in control of her surroundings and her companions.

The next day was a holiday in Spain so I took off early in the morning to visit some tourist attraction on the other side of the Island with some friends and I didn’t get back to the hotel until late in the afternoon. As soon as I walked into the hotel the Concierge asked where I’d been because there was a young lady asking for me all day long.

I went to my room to change for dinner. There was a knock on my door and there she stood, the beautiful young lady that I had seen the night before at the poolside. She told me that she had been looking for me all day and that she had wanted to meet me since she saw me last night and that she thought I looked so sad last night and that she was leaving in half an hour on a boat that she pointed out to me in the harbor and that she was German. There is no way to describe the range of emotions I went through during that 15 or 20 minutes that we stood and talked and I honestly don’t even recall the conversation but I will never forget the face or the outfit she was wearing.

We hugged and said good-bye.

That evening I stopped by the Concierge’s desk and asked him if he knew who the young lady was but all he could tell me was that her name was Suzanne.

“For she's touched your perfect body with her mind”

SUZANNE-One

SUZANNE

(from the album 'SONGS OF LEONARD COHEN')

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river

You can hear the boats go by

You can spend the night beside her

And you know that she's half crazy

But that's why you want to be there

And she feeds you tea and oranges

That come all the way from China

And just when you mean to tell her

That you have no love to give herT

hen she gets you on her wavelength

And she lets the river answer

That you've always been her lover

And you want to travel with her

And you want to travel blind

And you know that she will trust you

For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.

And Jesus was a sailor

When he walked upon the water

And he spent a long time watching

From his lonely wooden tower

And when he knew for certain

Only drowning men could see him

He said "All men will be sailors then

Until the sea shall free them"

But he himself was broken

Long before the sky would open

Forsaken, almost human

He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone

And you want to travel with him

And you want to travel blind

And you think maybe you'll trust him

For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

Now Suzanne takes your hand

And she leads you to the river

She is wearing rags and feathers

From Salvation Army counters

And the sun pours down like honey

On our lady of the harbour

And she shows you where to look

Among the garbage and the flowers

There are heroes in the seaweed

There are children in the morning

They are leaning out for love

And they will lean that way forever

While Suzanne holds the mirror

And you want to travel with her

And you want to travel blind

And you know that you can trust her

For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

My Health Team

Melvin Yamase,

M.D.Board Certified:
Internal Medicine

My primary care Doc






Todd Crocenzi, M.D.
Medical Oncology

My Team leader!!!







John Handy, MD
Cardiothoracic Surgery
Director, Providence Thoracic Surgery Program
Co-Director, Providence Thoracic Oncology Program
The Dr. (Harley Boots et al) scheduled to do the surgery after the Chemo.


Steven K. Seung, M.D., Ph.D.
RadiationOncology
The Dr. I'm seeing on Thursday to start my Chemo.






Betty Kim, MD
Gastroenterology
The Dr. that discovered my EC.






Alan Savoy, MD
Gastroenterology
The Dr. that did the EUS.

A thought for tomorrow's EarthDay

Does anyone remember Dan Quayle? He once said;

"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it."

Just a "Hump-Day" thought

April is here, time to cut loose of politics

By Garrison Keillor

Columnists should not write about politics. Take it from me, it's a bad idea. You pick up your bright sword to harass the heathen Republican and your prose style goes limp, your verbs droop and words such as "comprehensive" and "funding" creep in and you become thin-lipped and hissy, like Miss Whipple in study hall telling the boys in the back of the room to shape up or be sorry. Well, they aren't going to shape up. What will shape them up is the day of reckoning and it's not here yet.
It's spring in Minnesota, the snow is gone except behind the garage, so it's time to turn over a new leaf and let other people rag on the president. He is who he is, and anybody who hasn't formed an opinion of him is not paying attention.
I am going to sit and read poetry and wait for the enormous old crab apple tree beside our driveway to bud and then blossom, a mass of brilliant purplish flowers like a Mardi Gras float parked beside the house -- you can almost hear the brass band playing, "Just a Little While to Stay Here." Or maybe it's a funeral and the purple flowers are from the deceased's old pals who are shuffling along beside the coffin, hankies in hand, on their way to the graveyard and then to O'Gara's for a commemorative bump of whiskey. You can get all this just by looking at a crab apple tree. Visions of the vast grandeur of the sensuous world, intimations of mortality.
What vast grandeur do you find in Washington these days? The Abramoff-DeLay saga is the story of weasels. Small-time grifters and flimflam men wheedling favors and skimming money off the top. Nobody in the Republican majority could be shocked by any of this, so why should you and I?
The people who are getting reamed by this administration are people under 30, and they are, like, OK with that. They walk around with little wires coming out of their ears and 10,000 tunes on their iPods, and if you go, like, global warming, they are, like, whatever. And you go, government deficit, and they are, like, duuuuuuuuuuuude.
Our country has been entered into a 30-year war against Islam, and I will not be fighting it. I am, like, 63. In fact, I am not only like 63, I am 63 and will soon be 64 when I hope you will still need me and feed me. I am sitting pretty. If the polar icecap melts, it's no problem in Minnesota: The ocean isn't going to wash up on our doorsteps. No hurricanes on our horizon. None of my friends are penguins. If Iran gets the bomb, are they going to fly all the way to Minnesota to drop it?
Politics is a slough, and maybe we should let the weasels have it for now. Even if two more Republicans follow the current occupant into office, this country will still be around in some form or other. Cities may crumble and we may be forced to reside in walled compounds and hire security men to escort us to Wal-Mart and back, but much will remain, such as love, for example, and the quickening one feels in the spring. Flowers will bloom in whatever wreckage we make. Somewhere, someone will sing the old songs about love walking in and driving the shadows away.
People have been falling in love through every dismal era of history and through every war ever fought. Enormous black headlines in the newspapers and agitated talk in the cafes and yet she waited for him on the corner by the hotel where they had agreed to meet, and as traffic streamed past she watched the buses pulling up to the curb, looking for his familiar shape, his beautiful face, his slight smile. Under her arm, a newspaper, and inside it a columnist shaking his tiny fist at corruption, but it isn't worth 2 cents compared to what's in her heart. When her lover steps down, the air will be filled with bright purple blossoms and they will embrace and turn and go into the hotel, and on this, the future of the world depends.
Take the day off, dear reader, and ignore the world and let the president play his fiddle. Find the one who means the most to you and make yourselves happy. If that be ignorance, make the most of it.
The Garrison Keillor column, is distributed by Tribune Media Services.

So Quoth the Hypocrite

Quoting Bible to attack gays is hypocritical
By Leonard Pitts Jr.

An open letter to Donna Reddick:
I'm writing this for Desiree. She's a student at Miami Sunset Senior High, where you teach business technology. A few days ago, she sent me an e-mail recounting an incident that happened on campus last week.
It seems that on three successive days, the morning announcements, which are televised throughout the school, featured student-produced segments on the subject of gay rights.
On the first day came comments from students who took the pro position. On the second day came remarks from a counselor who spoke of the need for students to respect one another. On the third day came you.
You and a few students, actually. One told classmates homosexuality was ''unacceptable in the eyesight of God.'' Another said gays were ``unrighteous.''
The coup de grace, though, was you invoking Sodom and Gomorrah and telling students homosexuality was ''wrong according to the Bible'' because God ordered humanity to multiply, which gay couples cannot do.
Desiree was, to put it mildly, upset. In the e-mail, she accused you of bigotry and wondered how a gay student could feel assured ever again of fair treatment in your class. I tend to agree. She also suggested that you crossed the line between church and state, an accusation about which I'm more conflicted.
It seems to me there's a difference between proselytizing for a religion and explaining how one's faith has influenced one's opinion.
You're entitled to think what you think, no matter how stupid it might be.

But I'll leave those questions for others to parse. My biggest frustration lies elsewhere. Put simply, I've had it up to here with the moral hypocrisy and intellectual constipation of Bible literalists.
By which I mean people like you, who dress their homophobia up in Scripture, insisting with sanctimonious sincerity that it's not homophobia at all, but just a pious determination to live according to what the Bible says.
And never mind that the Bible also says it is ''disgraceful'' for a woman to speak out in church (1 Corinthians 14:34-36) and that if she has any questions, she should wait till she gets home and ask her husband. Never mind that the Bible says the penalty for going to work on Sunday (Exodus 35:1-3) is death. Never mind that the Bible says the man who rapes a virgin should buy her from her father (Deuteronomy 22:28-29) and marry her.
I'm going to speculate that you don't observe or support those commands. Which says to me that yours is a literalism of convenience, a literalism that is literal only so long as it allows you to condemn what you'd be condemning anyway and takes no skin off your personal backside.
As such, your claim that God sanctions your homophobia is the moral equivalent of Flip Wilson's old claim that the devil made him do it.
You resemble many of your and my co-religionists, whose faith so often expresses itself in an obsessive focus on one or two hot-button issues -- and seemingly nowhere else.
They're so panicked at the thought that somebody accidentally might treat gay people like people. They run around Chicken Little-like, screaming, 'Th' homosex'shals is comin'! Th' homosex'shals is comin'!'' Meantime, people are ignorant in Appalachia, strung out in Miami, starving in Niger, sex slaves in India, mass-murdered in Darfur. Where is the Christian outrage about that?

Just once, I'd like to read a headline that said a Christian group was boycotting to feed the hungry. Or marching to house the homeless. Or pushing Congress to provide the poor with healthcare worthy of the name.
Instead, they fixate on keeping the gay in their place. Which makes me question their priorities. And their compassion. And their faith.
If you love me, feed my sheep.
For the record, Ms. Reddick, the Bible says that, too.

Just-a-slow-Monday thought

The Cow

by Ogden Nash

The cow is of the bovine ilk;

One end is moo, the other, milk.

Thursday the 13th

It just seems like a good day to bitch so here is a little saga of trying to get a TV repaired.

Ace Electronics Repair, Inc.
6360 SE Foster Road
Portland, OR 97206
503-772-9761

The saga begins;

During the week of 7 February 2006 I started to try to make arrangements to get our 27” Phillips TV repaired. When the TV is turned on it shuts itself off within seconds.

I finally located Ace Electronics via the Yellow Pages and in conversation with the person who answered the phone, I felt that he knew what the problem was and could fix it. I explained that I was not in any condition to deliver the TV and what prompted my call was that they advertised pick-up & delivery.

I was told that there would be a $30.00 pick-up & delivery charge and that the cost of repairs could run between $96.00 & $120.00 and that the work was guaranteed. I agreed to the terms and then I was told that they would like about a three-hour window to arrange for the pick-up and someone would call approximately one hour before pick-up. The arranged pick-up time was set for Friday 11 Feb 2006, between 3 & 5 PM. (Scheduled by Bill Canfield)

At 5PM on that Friday when no-one had yet called or showed up I called and was told that due to the high winds the trailer they used to pick-up the TVs was not safe. I was also told, “someone should have called”. We re-scheduled for Monday PM.

On Monday, 13 February 2006, at approximately 5PM, “Jerry Cork” came and picked-up the TV.

One week later I called to check on the progress of the repair and I gave the person who answered the ticket # (9764) and I was asked for our phone number and someone would call within the hour. No-one ever called.

During the next two weeks my wife called several times with the same results. “Please leave your phone number and someone will call you back.” No-one ever called.

On 8 March 2006 I refused to accept the response that we had been getting and I demanded to know what was going on. I spoke to a “Rick” who sounded like he was in charge and he did call me back and told me that they had completed the repairs and had been trying to get a hold of us for the past week. We had never received any calls. The TV could be delivered that afternoon but I had to be prepared to have $150.00 for the repair plus the pick-up & delivery. I did not have that cash on hand so I gave him my American Express Card number.

That evening, around 5:30 PM the TV was returned and I signed the AMEX receipt.

That same evening the TV stopped working. I was where I had been a month before, a non-working TV, but $150.00 was no longer in my possession.

I called the next morning and left a few messages about how upset I was and when I finally got through and talked to “Rick” I was told that he would look into the problem by talking to the technician that repaired the set and see if a home visit could fix what was wrong. He also gave me a whole load of electronic double-speak, which said that these things don’t always work the first time. He said the technician would be calling me to see what needed to be done. I pointed out to him that my seven-year old said that they just took the TV and didn’t do anything and returned it. I have in my possession the same TV that is not operating and I am out $150.00.

Needless to say, no-one called. This was Thursday, so Friday my wife tried to get an answer and was rudely treated to the extent of having the person on the other end of the line hang-up on her.

It’s Monday 13 March 2006 as I write this and my conversation with “Rick” this morning went something like this;

“I spoke to the technician and he says the repair required is too extensive for home repair so bring the TV to the shop and it will be repaired.”

“Warranties do not include pick-up and delivery charges”

“I don’t have any means of picking-up the TV in the near future.”

I was not even given the option of paying for pick-up but the conversation ended when he hung up on me.

I have in my possession the same TV that is not operating and I am out $150.00.


UP-DATE-Thursday, March 16, 2006
· On Monday, 13 March 2006, I made arrangements to have the TV picked-up on Tuesday and I was then to receive a phone call with an estimate of the repairs.
· On schedule, on Tuesday, the TV was picked-up.
· Yesterday, Wednesday, I got a phone call with an estimate of the repairs and I was told the replacement part would take about three days to get. When I asked if it looked like anything had been done on the TV to repair it I was told that there was no evidence of any work and the part that needed replacing had certainly not been recently replaced.

Little Pedro

It was the first day of school and a new student named Pedro Martinez, the son of a Mexican restaurateur, entered the fourth grade.

The teacher said, "Let's begin by reviewing some American history. "Who said 'Give me Liberty, or give me Death?’? "
She saw a sea of blank faces, except for Pedro, who had his hand up.
"Patrick Henry, 1775."
"Very good!" apprised the teacher.

Now, who said, "Governmentof the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth?"
Again, no response except from Pedro:
"Abraham Lincoln, 1863."

The teacher snapped at the class, "Class, you should be ashamed! Pedro, who is new to our country, knows more about its history than you do!"
She heard a loud whisper: "Screw the Mexicans!"
"Who said that?" she demanded.
Pedro put his hand up. "Jim Bowie, 1836."

At that point, a student in the back said, "I'm gonna puke."
The teacher glared and asked, "All right! Now, who said that?"
Again, Pedro answered, "George Bush to the Japanese Prime Minister, 1991."

Now furious, another student yelled, "Oh yeah? Suck this!"
Pedro jumped out of his chair waving his hand and shouting to the teacher, "Bill Clinton to Monica Lewinsky."

Now, with almost a mob hysteria, teacher said, "You little shit. If you say anything else, I'll kill you!"
Pedro frantically yelled at the top of his voice, "Gary Condit to Chandra Levy, 2001."

The teacher fainted, and as the class gathered around her on the floor, someone said, "Oh shit, we're in BIG trouble now!"
Pedro whispered, "Saddam Hussein, 2003."

Finally someone throws an eraser at Pedro, someone shouted "Duck"!
Pedro: "Dick Cheney 2006"

Forfeiting our own moral authority

From today's Oregonian-Steve Duin writes about the Police Chief. When I find an item like this that better expresses my feelings then I will re-produce it rather than attempting to paraphrase the ideas.

Three weeks. Three excruciating weeks.
That's how long Portland Mayor Tom Potter spent listening to the pragmatists, the apologists and his own conscience.
Before he was cornered last Thursday by the press, that's how long Potter was allowed to ponder the more challenging questions raised by those who would excuse the conduct of his police chief: When did we decide to lower the bar?
When did we stop caring about holding people to a higher standard?
When was accountability eliminated from the list of demands we submit to our public servants and community leaders?
When did we resign ourselves to mediocrity?
When did we give up?
These questions have been around a lot longer than the latest sex scandal. I ask them each time President Bush tries to articulate a thoughtful argument, each time Gov. Ted Kulongoski talks about a second term, each time I remember Karen Minnis is speaker of the Oregon House.
Whatever happened to quality?
When did we drop the bar so low that anyone could crawl over it?
But the Foxworth case is particularly raw, a fresh reminder that shame and competence have gone the way of the dinosaurs. Three weeks -- now almost four -- after he received indigestible evidence that his police chief has the appetites and discretion of a porn star, Mayor Tom Potter remains paralyzed as to how to proceed.
Peering into the utter abyss of Foxworth's moral authority, the mayor doesn't blink. Asked whether the chief is still capable of running a bureau that's now laughing in his face rather than smirking behind his back, Potter said, "As of today, Chief Foxworth is doing what I have asked him to do. If that were to change in the future, if he was unable to carry out his duties, then I would reconsider my decision."
Moments later, the mayor reflected on the public's disdain for city government: "Of course, I worry, but there's nothing I can say. What I can try to do is behave in a manner that restores trust in government. I try to do the right things for the right reasons. I don't make political decisions."
Oh, really? What decisions do you make then?
Is there really some confusion about the nature of Foxworth's duty? His primary responsibility is to represent the best in us. That's part of the bargain when we pay his salary, outfit his office, fund his retirement and forgive him his personal cellular calls.
He failed. Trust is lost when someone pretends not to notice or professes not to care.
I don't know that Derrick Foxworth's failure is all that egregious when compared with the failure to safeguard this country's security or its long-term interests in the Middle East; the inability to fund Oregon schools; or the refusal to take up the mantle of leadership.
But when we shrug, when we apologize for him, when we act as if we're embarrassed to expect something more from the man who leads the force, the fragile bar -- of our standards and our discourse -- drops that much closer to rock bottom.
Does anyone still think that matters? I'm not nostalgic about politics. I appreciate that the public-service arena has long been a refuge for con artists, opportunists and frontmen for the special interests that forever angle for an unfair advantage.
But when did we decide we had no choice but to surrender to those cynical clowns?
When did we stop pondering how high we could aim and start worrying about how low we could go?
When did we forfeit our own moral authority, and the will to say, "Enough"?
If the revelations of the past week don't force the mayor and the rest of us to answer those questions now, I hesitate to contemplate the sordid scandal that will.


Steve Duin: 503-221-8597; 1320 S.W. Broadway, Portland, OR 97201 steveduin@news.oregonian.com www.oregonlive.com/weblogs/papertrail

Misquoting Jesus

I am reading a very interesting book which I started reading because it looked like it would answer some nagging questions I had about the Bible.


The book is “Misquoting Jesus” by Bart D. Ehrman and the following paragraph is from his introduction to the book;

“In short, my study of the Greek New Testament, and my investigations into the manuscripts that contain it, lead to a radical rethinking of my understanding of what the Bible is. This was a seismic change for me. Before this-starting with my born-again experience in high school, through my fundamentalists days at Moody, and on through my evangelical days at Wheaton-my faith had been based completely on a certain view of the Bible as the fully inspired, in errant word of God. Now I no longer saw the Bible that way. The Bible began to appear to me as a very human book. Just as human scribes had copied, and changed, the texts of scripture, so too had human authors originally written the texts of scripture. This was a human book from beginning to end. It was written by different human authors at different times and in different places to address different needs. Many of these authors no doubt felt they were inspired by God to say what they did, but they had their own perspectives, their own beliefs, their own views, their own needs, their own desires, their own understandings, their own theologies; and these perspectives, beliefs, views, needs, desires, understandings, and theologies informed everything they said. In all these ways they differed from one another. Among other things, this meant that Mark did not say the same thing that Luke said because he didn’t mean the same thing as Luke. John is different from Mathew-not the same. Paul is different from Acts. And James is different from Paul. Each author is a human author and needs to be read for what he (assuming they were men) has to say, not assuming that every other author has to say. The Bible, at the very end of the day, is a very human book.”

For me, this explains quite a lot. I always wondered how come the New Testament was written in Greek, a language that very few people in the Middle East knew. If the so-called, old testament, was the word of God, and written in Hebrew-why the change? This book is very enlightening on many fronts but for me the bottom line is that it supports my long standing belief that God did not create Man but rather that Man created God.

CHIMES OF FREEDOM

CHIMES OF FREEDOM

Words and Music by Bob Dylan


Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken toll

We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing

As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds

Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing

Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight

Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight

An' for each an' ev'ry underdog soldier in the night

An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

In the city's melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched

With faces hidden while the walls were tightening

As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowin' rain

Dissolved into the bells of the lightning

Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake

Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned an' forsaked

Tolling for the outcast, burnin' constantly at stake

An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail

The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder

That the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze

Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder

Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind

Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind

An' the unpawned painter behind beyond his rightful time

An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Through the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales

For the disrobed faceless forms of no position

Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts

All down in taken-for-granted situations

Tolling for the deaf an' blind, tolling for the mute

Tolling for the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute

For the misdemeanor outlaw, chased an' cheated by pursuit

An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Even though a cloud's white curtain in a far-off corner flashed

An' the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting

Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones

Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting

Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail

For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale

An' for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail

An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Starry-eyed an' laughing as I recall when we were caught

Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended

As we listened one last time an' we watched with one last look

Spellbound an' swallowed 'til the tolling ended

Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed

For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an' worse

An' for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe

An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Man and the Biosphere

It is my contention that MAN has contributed absolutely nothing to the Biosphere.

I agree with the following definition:

The biosphere is that part of a planet's outer shell — including air, land, surface rocks and water — within which life occurs, and which biotic processes in turn alter or transform. From the broadest geophysiological point of view, the biosphere is the global ecological system integrating all living beings and their relationships, including their interaction with the elements of the lithosphere (rocks), hydrosphere (water), and atmosphere (air). Our planet Earth is the only place where life is known to exist. This biosphere is generally thought to have evolved, beginning through a process of biogenesis or biopoesis, at least some 3.5 billion years ago.

That being said, it seems to me that all these prizes and medals given to MAN for the inventions that “help” mankind are really attempts at repairing all the things that MAN has destroyed. The fact that MAN has not contributed to the Biosphere goes even one step further, in my mind, that MAN is not really even a natural part of the Biosphere since MAN does not live in balance with the rest of the Biosphere. That is to say that the Laws of the Biosphere are that as an inhabitant of the Biosphere one does not add or take away from the so called, “Balance of Nature”.

If we were to assume that MAN is a natural part of the Biosphere then there is nothing that man does that can be considered to be “bad” for the Biosphere since if MAN belongs in the Biosphere MAN can do nothing to destroy it so the concepts of Pollution don’t apply. However, if one follows the concepts of the “The Tragedy of the Commons” by Garrett Hardin (1968) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tragedy_of_the_commons) then one realizes that some restrictions have to be put on MAN.

So where does MAN come from? What is the role of MAN in the Biosphere? If we are to believe the Darwinian concept of MAN evolving then we have to address the paradox of where and when did the course of nature change to introduce into the mix an entity that destroys it’s own environment?

Based on my limited knowledge of the American Indian, a so-called Primitive People, they lived off the land and were very much a part of the land, or the Biosphere. They didn’t think of land ownership, nor did they kill animals for sport and they worshipped the elements of the Biosphere that allowed them to survive. They were nomadic, in many cases, and followed their food and clothing sources without leaving a path of destruction in their wake. There were territorial disputes but the main concern was survival and not acquisition of property. It wasn’t until the “White Man” came to these shores that the Indians were introduced to ownership of property.

Maybe the search for my answer ought to come from the ownership of land. Somewhere in the history of MAN there was a transition from being land “stewards” to land owners.
Stewardship-: the conducting, supervising, or managing of something; especially: the careful and responsible management of something entrusted to one's care

The other consideration seems to be the need for shelter and the concept of staying put somewhere rather than moving with the seasons to avoid the need for better shelter.

For example, the logging industry was a direct result of the need to clear land for farming so the concept of keeping the logging industry from clear-cutting land now flies in the face of the logic that created the industry. Re-planting is another concept that is foreign to the use of “natural resources” as necessary.

I sure don’t have all the answers but I am not sure that the answers don’t include one or two of the following.

One, the Religious Creationists might be right. God created MAN in his own image and stuck MAN on the “Third Rock from the Sun” as an experiment. Having already experimented with other forms of life that didn’t make it, God introduced an element to mess with the ”Balance of Nature”.

Or Two, MAN arrived on the Earth from another planet that MAN had already destroyed with the destruction of the environment on that other planet.

Think about it!!!

The Health-Line Up-date

Michael’s version of “Lemony Snicket’s A Series Of Unfortunate Events”


I can paraphrase this to read,

“Michael’s Series of Unfortunate Events” or How a Pain-in-the-ass Lead to My Chest Being Opened Again.

The chronology of events is probably the best place to start;
*For several years I have had a problem walking more than half a mile before I get these excruciating pains up the backs of my legs and into my buttocks. (The pain-in-the-ass)
*At the beginning of 2006 I told my doctor that we had to do something and he suggested that there were two courses of action we could investigate, namely, vascular and neurological.
*I went to see a vascular surgeon after I had a vascular test done on my legs to discover if there was any blood flow restriction. (I had this same test done about a year before and there was some restricted flow noted at that time) This doctor’s conclusion was that the problem was not vascular.
*I was then scheduled for an MRI, which is a very noisy machine.
*As a result of the MRI there were two findings; One, I had a distended bladder and two, I had some restrictions in the spine in the lower lumbar regions.
*I scheduled a visit to an Urologist first because that sounded like an important issue and I was putting off the Neurologist until after the bladder issue was resolved.
*The visit to the Urologist revealed that I was carrying around almost 3 liters of urine in the bladder and that although my urine passed on what seemed a regular manner, it was only working after I exceeded the 3-liter limit. In other words, I was not emptying my bladder. The downside of this was that this could lead to kidney failure so I have to contend with a non-functioning bladder. There was also the possibility that the pinching in the back could be contributing to the bladder failure.
*My next visit was to the Neurologist that showed me the MRI and we discussed the feasibility of operating on my back and opening up some areas that looked constricting to relieve the leg pain problem. He could not address the bladder issue with any confidence. In preparation to the surgery he wanted me to get checked over by my doctor.
*After a visit to my primary care physician the plan was to get a CT Scan of my kidney/bladder area to see if there was something on the kidneys contributing to the bladder problem and then to also have a stress test to check out my heart since I had the five vessel by-pass 12 years ago. *All this to prepare for the back surgery.
*I showed up for my CT scan at 7:00 AM, on an empty stomach, and drank a chemical cocktail prior to the actual test at 8:00 AM. Unbeknownst to me the CT scan had two parts, a lower abdomen and a pelvic scan. I left the hospital, got some breakfast and went to work. Later that morning I got a call from the hospital scheduler who told me they had forgotten to do the pelvic scan so I had to go back for a 4:00 PM appointment.
*I had a scheduled appointment with my primary care doctor and he told me that one of the radiologists had reported to him that he saw something on the CT scan in the Esophagus. The kidneys did not look bad so he wanted me to have an endoscope of my esophagus.
*The endoscope exam requires a list of dos and don’ts of which I was informed on the Friday before my scheduled Monday PM test. I had to stop certain medications I normally take and I couldn’t eat for four hours prior to the test and I couldn’t drive myself to the test. This being the start of Spring break for the kids meant we had to do some juggling and a stepdaughter ended up taking me to the test. My Heart Stress test was scheduled for Thursday of that week and I had made an appointment to see my eye doctor on Wednesday for my annual exam.
*A very nice young lady doctor did the exam wherein I was sedated and then in the recovery she informed me that she had found a 10cm tumor in my lower esophagus and she felt it was cancerous. I didn’t hear much after the “C” word but she biopsyed the tumor and made an appointment for a another CT Scan on Tuesday and an appointment with an oncologist for Wednesday afternoon, and an appointment with a thoracic surgeon.
*I cancelled my eye exam and Wifey and I went to the oncologist on Wednesday. He explained that all the years that I had been suffering with acid-reflux had caused the lining of the esophagus to be awash with stomach acid, for which it was not designed. The damage to the cells eventually caused some of the cells to mutate thereby producing the cancer. He felt that from the evidence he had on hand it looked like the tumor was limited to the esophagus and was growing inward rather than outward through the esophagus wall and into the lymph nodes and then into some other organs in the vicinity, like the heart and lungs. He wanted me to have another test known as a PET scan and then possibly an EUS or Endoscope-Ultra-Sound to better determine the extent of the cancer.
*It is this phase of the “Staging” that I am going through right now. I just had the stress test Thursday and I had the PET Scan on Monday and the EUS, if required, on Thursday. Between those two I will see the oncologist again today, Wednesday. Chest surgery is the best option to get rid of all the cancer at one time, if it hasn’t migrated.The entire process started to get rid of a pain-in-the-ass and may end up trying to get rid of a fatal growth in my chest.

Bizarre is the only word that comes to mind. It reminds me of “…for want of a horseshoe nail the kingdom was lost.”

A thought for today!!!

Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.

William Shakespeare

As a ten year-old I was in a play where I played a priest accompanying a death-row prisoner to the electric-chair and these are the lines I had to say. I think the play was called "The Valiant". I never forgot the lines but since I was holding a book and reading these lines I always thought these were lines from the bible.