Here's a bit of advice for whiny-ass titty-babies like Len Munsil and Espresso Pundit: free speech is a bitch.
There are fifty-four phrases inscribed on the Arizona 9/11 Memorial that was put up at the state capitol two weeks ago. Not all of these phrases are pleasing to the rightwing hegemony advocates that are intent upon ruining our democratic republic and replacing it with a theocratic monarchy.
Their opposition to a handful of these monument inscriptions sometimes borders on the insane, which is to be expected. And they want some of the phrases re-eveluated.
"They include statements such as "You don't win battles of terrorism with more battles," "Congress questions why CIA & FBI didn't prevent attacks," and "Erroneous US air strike kills 46 Uruzgan civilians," a reference to members of an Afghan wedding party who were killed."
The righteous outcry against that last statement particularly galls me, because the forty-six Uruzgan wedding celebrants would still be alive today if it were not for the 9/11 attacks, and those people are victims of terrorism as much as those whose mangled body parts were pulled from the wreckage of the Twin Towers.
Good point, shrimpy.
It is arrogant, stupid, narrow-minded, and nearly ethically blind on the part of the Munsils and Pattersons of the world that they would wish for that bit of history to just go away and not disturb their glorious appropriation of 9/11 for their own political purposes.
Munsil, hopelessly behind in the polls in his bid to turn Arizona into Texassistan, basically politicized this whole Memorial thing in hopes to morph it into some kind of treason on the part of his very popular opponent, standing governor Napolitano. Whatever. He's got to do something to keep his political base of drooling authoritarian gay-bashing nutballs interested in his floundering and shallow campaign.
Lots of people say things that other people don't like. It's a fact of life, and ackowledgement of that simple notion was one of the great psychological and social achievements attained by the founding fathers as they formulated the documents upon which our government is allegedly still based. I can live with that.
And I do. Every day. Not a minute goes by without some crass rightwing ideologue somewhere in the media accusing people like me of being horribly bad, because I espouse views with which they disagree. Limbaugh, Coulter, Malkin, Savage-Wiener, and the like have entire radio and television networks channeling their foaming rage into the rivers of public discourse every minute of every day.
But that's not enough.
They want to erase everything that might be seen as disagreement with their demented vision. Everything.
But they cannot, and they will not.
The Arizona 9/11 Memorial statements will be reviewed. Some phrases will probably be removed from its surfaces.
But the Uruzgan wedding party, as well the 2,973 9/11 fatalities, will tragically still be dead.
Still dead, but spoken for. All of them.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Yeah, whatever
Grief counselor.
Hockey defenseman.
Pilltender.
Toxic waste disposal specialist.
Alien lifeform written language translator.
Drug dictionary.
Hostage negotiator.
Has enlarged urinary bladder.
Cold-call telephone salesperson.
Immune to sleep deprivation. Long-term and short-term.
Takes authoritarian direction well. Or not. OK, f$ck that.
Strong back.
Even stronger stomache.
Babysitter.
"Get me a nurse! STAT!"
*Note timestamp.
Hockey defenseman.
Pilltender.
Toxic waste disposal specialist.
Alien lifeform written language translator.
Drug dictionary.
Hostage negotiator.
Has enlarged urinary bladder.
Cold-call telephone salesperson.
Immune to sleep deprivation. Long-term and short-term.
Takes authoritarian direction well. Or not. OK, f$ck that.
Strong back.
Even stronger stomache.
Babysitter.
"Get me a nurse! STAT!"
*Note timestamp.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Street Hockey
I was doing tracheostomy care for the patient in room 8. They were doing much better today than yesterday. Their cough was more effective basically because their secretions were far less thick; thin actually, and clear as the fresh cold waters of a mountain stream. Except with methicillin resistant Staphylococcus aureus.
The Foley catheter tubing that I had clamped was still bone dry. The residents wanted a repeat urinalysis but there was only a drop of urine in the bag. The patient had already been dialysed that morning and they were pretty much anuric. Then I heard other staffers yelling my name.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said loudly enough to be heard out in the hallway. My invisible psychic clue-detectors had already told me exactly what to expect.
When I eventually got to room 4, Mr. Crazy Big Guy was standing naked by his bed, foley catheter tubing stretched well, quite q bit. Enough to extend his paltry manliness somewhat beyond his usual Chihuahua stature when in repose.
And his WoundVac tubing was okay but me and nobody else wanted to see that damaged.
Mr. Crazy Big Guy had been bitten by some nasty critter, a spider or a scorpion, on his inner left thigh and he'd developed compartment syndrome. A couple days ago he had gone to another hospital where they did an extensive fasciotomy of the thigh, leaving three 4-inch-long open incisions along it, complete with intact Penrose drains.
He wasn't happy with the care he was getting at the intensive care unit at the other hospital so he'd ripped out his intravenous lines and stomped away against medical advice. When he got home his family members took a look at his wounds, each profusely draining copious amounts of serosanguinous fluid. So they brought him to our hospital.
Everybody likes our hospital. They say that we "know what we are doing" and "the nurses are so nice there." Whatever.
Since his wounds had been draining like mad and soaking up gauze and even chux, requiring changing constantly all night long, the wound care nurse specialist put a nice WoundVac on his thigh to drain the blood and goop into a nice little container instead of these going all over the bed linens all the time.
Anyways, I'd heard the yells and there he was standing naked next to his bed, surrounded by a team of residents. I could excuse the pregnant lead resident, but the guys standing there with that deer-in-the-headlights look could probably have been doing something.
The bedrails were up. Mr. Big Crazy Guy had crawled out over these. "Heye dude, what's up?" I asked him. His speech was crummy but he managed to get out something about how he had to get to Tucson to go to the hospital because he had to pee.
Me: tiny baby gazelle.
Mr. Big Crazy Guy: draft horse.
After a quick calculation, to determine that his head wouldn't hit anything, I pushed him backwards over the bedrails and he flopped onto the bed. I heaved his legs in after him and muscled him into a straight position laying in bed. The residents looked at all this as if they were background characters on the streets in a fight scene from a Spiderman movie.
"What the fuck are you guys doing!?" the patient asked. "It's a long story," I said.
We put his oxygen on and settled him in. I had just dosed him with enough Haldol to knock out a donkey about half an hour prior to this, because he'd been starting to get antsy then, and now he was going with it, not fighting it. In a few minutes he was snoring.
The lead resident was writing orders when I approached and she said "that was the most amazing thing I've seen in quite a while."
The case manager nearby said "Remind me to never play hockey with you!"
All in a day's work.
The Foley catheter tubing that I had clamped was still bone dry. The residents wanted a repeat urinalysis but there was only a drop of urine in the bag. The patient had already been dialysed that morning and they were pretty much anuric. Then I heard other staffers yelling my name.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said loudly enough to be heard out in the hallway. My invisible psychic clue-detectors had already told me exactly what to expect.
When I eventually got to room 4, Mr. Crazy Big Guy was standing naked by his bed, foley catheter tubing stretched well, quite q bit. Enough to extend his paltry manliness somewhat beyond his usual Chihuahua stature when in repose.
And his WoundVac tubing was okay but me and nobody else wanted to see that damaged.
Mr. Crazy Big Guy had been bitten by some nasty critter, a spider or a scorpion, on his inner left thigh and he'd developed compartment syndrome. A couple days ago he had gone to another hospital where they did an extensive fasciotomy of the thigh, leaving three 4-inch-long open incisions along it, complete with intact Penrose drains.
He wasn't happy with the care he was getting at the intensive care unit at the other hospital so he'd ripped out his intravenous lines and stomped away against medical advice. When he got home his family members took a look at his wounds, each profusely draining copious amounts of serosanguinous fluid. So they brought him to our hospital.
Everybody likes our hospital. They say that we "know what we are doing" and "the nurses are so nice there." Whatever.
Since his wounds had been draining like mad and soaking up gauze and even chux, requiring changing constantly all night long, the wound care nurse specialist put a nice WoundVac on his thigh to drain the blood and goop into a nice little container instead of these going all over the bed linens all the time.
Anyways, I'd heard the yells and there he was standing naked next to his bed, surrounded by a team of residents. I could excuse the pregnant lead resident, but the guys standing there with that deer-in-the-headlights look could probably have been doing something.
The bedrails were up. Mr. Big Crazy Guy had crawled out over these. "Heye dude, what's up?" I asked him. His speech was crummy but he managed to get out something about how he had to get to Tucson to go to the hospital because he had to pee.
Me: tiny baby gazelle.
Mr. Big Crazy Guy: draft horse.
After a quick calculation, to determine that his head wouldn't hit anything, I pushed him backwards over the bedrails and he flopped onto the bed. I heaved his legs in after him and muscled him into a straight position laying in bed. The residents looked at all this as if they were background characters on the streets in a fight scene from a Spiderman movie.
"What the fuck are you guys doing!?" the patient asked. "It's a long story," I said.
We put his oxygen on and settled him in. I had just dosed him with enough Haldol to knock out a donkey about half an hour prior to this, because he'd been starting to get antsy then, and now he was going with it, not fighting it. In a few minutes he was snoring.
The lead resident was writing orders when I approached and she said "that was the most amazing thing I've seen in quite a while."
The case manager nearby said "Remind me to never play hockey with you!"
All in a day's work.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Lyin' Ass Bitch
Much snippage from the ever-reliable and forthright pages of the online Arizona Republic:
Here speaks Governor Napolitano on border issues:
"I have been fighting for several years for the federal government to reimburse Arizona’s expenses related to the illegal immigration trade and its impact on our state. It is also why Republican Governor Jon Huntsman of Utah and I drafted and sent to Congress a comprehensive blueprint for immigration reform that had been endorsed by the bipartisan Western Governor’s Association. And, it is why when President Bush implemented my plan to use the National Guard to help secure our border, I demanded and the Federal Government agreed, that the bills should be paid by the Federal Government."
(snip)
"On August 15, 2005, I declared a state of emergency in our four border counties along the Arizona-Mexico border to free up $1.5 million to alleviate the financial burden absorbed due to criminal activities stemming from illegal immigration."
(snip)
"I have also directed the Department of Public Safety (DPS) to implement a comprehensive enforcement strategy to interdict criminal activity along the border region. Particular attention has been focused on disrupting the organized criminal enterprises involved in drug and human smuggling, vehicle theft and financial crimes. Under my direction, DPS utilizes the Arizona Counter-Terrorism Information Center (ACTIC), to trace and take-down human smuggling organizations and their financial trails. The creation of ACTIC was one of my first Homeland Security goals and it is now not only nationally-recognized but serves as a prototype for other states in how to establish a combined federal, state and local intelligence center."
(snip)
"As Arizona Attorney General, I drafted anti-terrorism legislation that is now being used to intercept the flow of money used to finance illegal operations, including human smuggling enterprises. As of today, this law has led to the seizure of almost $18 million and resulted in 221 arrests.
DPS also began the Southern Arizona Auto Theft Task Force, which has recovered almost 200 stolen vehicles. Along with the Auto Theft Task Force, the state has recently installed license plate readers in the southern part of the state. The license plate readers take a photo of a license and match it to the stolen car database. If the car turns up stolen, DPS or local law enforcement are able to seize the vehicle before it is taken to Mexico. This is just another great tool used in the interdiction of stolen vehicles.
Under my direction, the Department of Liquor Licenses and Control created the Fraudulent Identification Task Force to identify, investigate, and prosecute the manufacturers and sellers of all fraudulent identifications in the state. Since its inception, 117 felony arrests have been made and 950 fraudulent documents have been seized."
(snip)
"...By Executive Order, I have already imposed restrictions on companies who do business with the state from employing undocumented workers. Last January, in my State of the State address, I called on the State Legislature to do its part by passing a state law sanctioning employers who knowingly hire undocumented workers. Sadly, rather than pass meaningful, workable legislation, the Legislature watered-down a bill to such an extent that it would have provided amnesty to employers. Rather than make current law even worse, I vetoed the bill; however, I will not give up on the fight for an Arizona law – with teeth – that holds employers accountable when they hire illegal immigrants."
Now let us see what her opponent in the upcoming election, Len Munsil, has to say by way of comment:
"Well, after four years as Governor, we know Janet Napolitano’s answer. She believes we should do nothing. She believes the border cannot be secured. She has watched 5,000 people each day cross our border illegally and still she does nothing. She has watched Arizona citizens forced to flee their homes near the border and still she does nothing."
Nothing?
Really?
You know what, Munsil's comment makes him a LAB. Fishbone long ago wrote a song with lyrics that would seem to apply to Munsil's totally inappropriate characterization of Governor Napolitano's efforts regarding the difficult control of the Arizona border with Mexico.
More snippage from Governor Napolitano:
"The Federal government’s failure to fulfill its responsibilities in securing our border and providing for a realistic and functional immigration policy for this country have been immense detriments to the State of Arizona."
And detriments to national security, I would add.
One last snip from the Governor's words:
"It is the primary responsibility of the federal government to secure our border with Mexico and provide for a sound immigration policy. No state or local official should forget that, nor let the Federal Government off the hook."
Munsil isn't just running against a very successful and popular incumbant governor. He's running against the failed border policies of a president from his own political party. How ironic.
Here speaks Governor Napolitano on border issues:
"I have been fighting for several years for the federal government to reimburse Arizona’s expenses related to the illegal immigration trade and its impact on our state. It is also why Republican Governor Jon Huntsman of Utah and I drafted and sent to Congress a comprehensive blueprint for immigration reform that had been endorsed by the bipartisan Western Governor’s Association. And, it is why when President Bush implemented my plan to use the National Guard to help secure our border, I demanded and the Federal Government agreed, that the bills should be paid by the Federal Government."
(snip)
"On August 15, 2005, I declared a state of emergency in our four border counties along the Arizona-Mexico border to free up $1.5 million to alleviate the financial burden absorbed due to criminal activities stemming from illegal immigration."
(snip)
"I have also directed the Department of Public Safety (DPS) to implement a comprehensive enforcement strategy to interdict criminal activity along the border region. Particular attention has been focused on disrupting the organized criminal enterprises involved in drug and human smuggling, vehicle theft and financial crimes. Under my direction, DPS utilizes the Arizona Counter-Terrorism Information Center (ACTIC), to trace and take-down human smuggling organizations and their financial trails. The creation of ACTIC was one of my first Homeland Security goals and it is now not only nationally-recognized but serves as a prototype for other states in how to establish a combined federal, state and local intelligence center."
(snip)
"As Arizona Attorney General, I drafted anti-terrorism legislation that is now being used to intercept the flow of money used to finance illegal operations, including human smuggling enterprises. As of today, this law has led to the seizure of almost $18 million and resulted in 221 arrests.
DPS also began the Southern Arizona Auto Theft Task Force, which has recovered almost 200 stolen vehicles. Along with the Auto Theft Task Force, the state has recently installed license plate readers in the southern part of the state. The license plate readers take a photo of a license and match it to the stolen car database. If the car turns up stolen, DPS or local law enforcement are able to seize the vehicle before it is taken to Mexico. This is just another great tool used in the interdiction of stolen vehicles.
Under my direction, the Department of Liquor Licenses and Control created the Fraudulent Identification Task Force to identify, investigate, and prosecute the manufacturers and sellers of all fraudulent identifications in the state. Since its inception, 117 felony arrests have been made and 950 fraudulent documents have been seized."
(snip)
"...By Executive Order, I have already imposed restrictions on companies who do business with the state from employing undocumented workers. Last January, in my State of the State address, I called on the State Legislature to do its part by passing a state law sanctioning employers who knowingly hire undocumented workers. Sadly, rather than pass meaningful, workable legislation, the Legislature watered-down a bill to such an extent that it would have provided amnesty to employers. Rather than make current law even worse, I vetoed the bill; however, I will not give up on the fight for an Arizona law – with teeth – that holds employers accountable when they hire illegal immigrants."
Now let us see what her opponent in the upcoming election, Len Munsil, has to say by way of comment:
"Well, after four years as Governor, we know Janet Napolitano’s answer. She believes we should do nothing. She believes the border cannot be secured. She has watched 5,000 people each day cross our border illegally and still she does nothing. She has watched Arizona citizens forced to flee their homes near the border and still she does nothing."
Nothing?
Really?
You know what, Munsil's comment makes him a LAB. Fishbone long ago wrote a song with lyrics that would seem to apply to Munsil's totally inappropriate characterization of Governor Napolitano's efforts regarding the difficult control of the Arizona border with Mexico.
More snippage from Governor Napolitano:
"The Federal government’s failure to fulfill its responsibilities in securing our border and providing for a realistic and functional immigration policy for this country have been immense detriments to the State of Arizona."
And detriments to national security, I would add.
One last snip from the Governor's words:
"It is the primary responsibility of the federal government to secure our border with Mexico and provide for a sound immigration policy. No state or local official should forget that, nor let the Federal Government off the hook."
Munsil isn't just running against a very successful and popular incumbant governor. He's running against the failed border policies of a president from his own political party. How ironic.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Anatomy
A lot of television things are about other things on television.
Your life probably is not one of those things.
Thank god, or whatever.
Try discussing Anselm's Proof with an 8-year-old. You will be happy you did.
"Perfection."
Pink Floyd. Anthony Braxton. Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks. The 2nd and 3rd string quartets by Elliot Carter. Switched-On Bach. All at the same time?
Lisa was a bit more busy than I was so I asked her what she had going on, and she said I could hold up Mr. Beaver's leg while she changed the dressing. She dashed off to the supply room while I went into Mr. Beaver's room and started to unwrap the gauze from around the entire length of his lower left leg.
Though never assigned to Mr. Beaver, he recalled me because I'd held his head still and encouraged him a couple days ago when one of the other nurses sunk a duotube down his nose to feed him Jevity or something, because he wasn't eating enough on his own.
I unwrapped the dressing and asked him "So, what happened?" and as I continued to peel off bloody 4X4 after bloody 4X4 gauze he said "I fell off my bicycle and nicked my leg and it got infected." After I'd peeled off several packages worth of messy 4-inch-square gauzes the wound appeared in its perigee, resplendant as the recent full moon.
Impressive. Staring at an exposed length of 10 inches of tibia is impressive. There's gotta be another word for it but the shock of seeing so much exposed bone on a living appendage sent most other words right out of me. That just tells you that I am not an emergency department nurse. They'd be making dog-bone jokes.
His foot was pink. A little "x" mark cued me into the dorsal pulse, which was easily palpable and non-obliterating. Unbelievable. The foot was basically fine. When the dressing and wrap were in place it looked as if he had a regular lower leg. But he didn't. The shin and calf above it were both debrided away, leaving a bit of calf muscle to fill out the ghost, somewhat imaginary, of a human lower leg. Shin bone exposed. Story at 6.
There was no skin nor muscle tissue covering nor accompanying either side the tibia. It was exposed for its length from the knee to the ankle. I swear I could have rounded a gloved finger behind it, only to have my finger clear the back other side of that expressionistically-exposed length of leg bone.
An awful image, though the patient talked and went on as if this were a pimple on his priest-white butt. Or rabbi-white butt. Or Imam-pink butt. Butts are butts. We had best accept that principle lest our differences lead to a violent self-immolation of all mankind.
Your life probably is not one of those things.
Thank god, or whatever.
Try discussing Anselm's Proof with an 8-year-old. You will be happy you did.
"Perfection."
Pink Floyd. Anthony Braxton. Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks. The 2nd and 3rd string quartets by Elliot Carter. Switched-On Bach. All at the same time?
Lisa was a bit more busy than I was so I asked her what she had going on, and she said I could hold up Mr. Beaver's leg while she changed the dressing. She dashed off to the supply room while I went into Mr. Beaver's room and started to unwrap the gauze from around the entire length of his lower left leg.
Though never assigned to Mr. Beaver, he recalled me because I'd held his head still and encouraged him a couple days ago when one of the other nurses sunk a duotube down his nose to feed him Jevity or something, because he wasn't eating enough on his own.
I unwrapped the dressing and asked him "So, what happened?" and as I continued to peel off bloody 4X4 after bloody 4X4 gauze he said "I fell off my bicycle and nicked my leg and it got infected." After I'd peeled off several packages worth of messy 4-inch-square gauzes the wound appeared in its perigee, resplendant as the recent full moon.
Impressive. Staring at an exposed length of 10 inches of tibia is impressive. There's gotta be another word for it but the shock of seeing so much exposed bone on a living appendage sent most other words right out of me. That just tells you that I am not an emergency department nurse. They'd be making dog-bone jokes.
His foot was pink. A little "x" mark cued me into the dorsal pulse, which was easily palpable and non-obliterating. Unbelievable. The foot was basically fine. When the dressing and wrap were in place it looked as if he had a regular lower leg. But he didn't. The shin and calf above it were both debrided away, leaving a bit of calf muscle to fill out the ghost, somewhat imaginary, of a human lower leg. Shin bone exposed. Story at 6.
There was no skin nor muscle tissue covering nor accompanying either side the tibia. It was exposed for its length from the knee to the ankle. I swear I could have rounded a gloved finger behind it, only to have my finger clear the back other side of that expressionistically-exposed length of leg bone.
An awful image, though the patient talked and went on as if this were a pimple on his priest-white butt. Or rabbi-white butt. Or Imam-pink butt. Butts are butts. We had best accept that principle lest our differences lead to a violent self-immolation of all mankind.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Up to What
Very busy lately. Worked five twelves in a week and that's a lot for me, but maybe just average for Disappearing John.
I have somehow slipped into a pattern of explaining my behavior, in many social situations, in political terms. We were at the water park and I had inadvertently allowed my elbow to get into the personal space around a young adult woman's face. I was in line with my crew and she was sitting in proximity.
I apologized when I turned, saw her, and realized that I had nearly backed into her. She laughed it off.
"Sorry!" I said, adding "I'd never stick my elbow in somebody's face purposefully. I'm a Democrat," and she laughed again.
Now, whenever I do something sort of nice, or even just normal, I am going to say out loud that I did so because I am not a Republican, I am a progressive Democrat.
There.
That settles it.
Even though it should be obvious to everyone.
Sheesh. Just listen to Coulter, Savage Wiener, Limbaugh, or any of them. They are uniformly rude. There's no excuse for this really. Thin-skinned, too, like when Coulter goes off crying when the chips fall the other way. Sorr-ree.
I don't bring up these political things at work so overtly. Some people have even asked me "what are you?" as I keep my political identity under simple wraps. Not that I have to. The crowd around me at work all carry water for these friends of Arnold.
As Carol Anne said, "They're here."
Young Heather O'Rourke oddly died of septic shock while she was very young, and that is very sad. I did not know this until I wrote this post.
I have somehow slipped into a pattern of explaining my behavior, in many social situations, in political terms. We were at the water park and I had inadvertently allowed my elbow to get into the personal space around a young adult woman's face. I was in line with my crew and she was sitting in proximity.
I apologized when I turned, saw her, and realized that I had nearly backed into her. She laughed it off.
"Sorry!" I said, adding "I'd never stick my elbow in somebody's face purposefully. I'm a Democrat," and she laughed again.
Now, whenever I do something sort of nice, or even just normal, I am going to say out loud that I did so because I am not a Republican, I am a progressive Democrat.
There.
That settles it.
Even though it should be obvious to everyone.
Sheesh. Just listen to Coulter, Savage Wiener, Limbaugh, or any of them. They are uniformly rude. There's no excuse for this really. Thin-skinned, too, like when Coulter goes off crying when the chips fall the other way. Sorr-ree.
I don't bring up these political things at work so overtly. Some people have even asked me "what are you?" as I keep my political identity under simple wraps. Not that I have to. The crowd around me at work all carry water for these friends of Arnold.
As Carol Anne said, "They're here."
Young Heather O'Rourke oddly died of septic shock while she was very young, and that is very sad. I did not know this until I wrote this post.
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