Words

A deadline is negative inspiration. Still, it's better than no inspiration at all.

~Rita Mae Brown
Trust only movement. Life happens at the level of events, not of words. Trust movement.

~Alfred Adler

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    NOS4A2
    by Joe Hill
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Matt Fitzhardinge - Alaskan dogsledding header picture


Friday
Mar232007

Error Message

According to the registered letter I received today from the Superintendent of Motor Vehicles (who seems quite personally upset with me) I was actually in court in FEBRUARY.

Thank god someone's paying more attention than me - I thought time really had gotten all fucked up and/or I was losing my mind.

Friday
Mar232007

Holy Mother of God, Enough Already

I was just wandering around on Canada's taxation website and apparantly last September they reassessed my 2005 taxes.

Now, they would normally send a letter, but I'd moved so I didn't get the letter asking for my receipts nor the letter of reassessment.

They disallowed $5700 in medical expenses.

Now, I know that, according to the Year of the Pig, March is only a one star month but holy crap, this month has been FIVE YEARS LONG. I realized last night that it'd only been *17* days since I was in court.

It seems like a year ago.

And there's still more than a week left to the month.

Once I drag myself out of this fetal position I'm on my way to the hospital to see Elmer, photocopy all my receipts to send to Revenue Canada, get some forms filled out so that the military can finally maybe make the decision to pay me for over 200 hours of missed work and then I'm coming home to adopt the philosophy of the epaulet shark which, according to the book I am reading, deals with fear by....

Not all sharks are particularly scary. In Australia the small epaulet shark tries frantically to escape divers and snorkelers. The little fellow feels safely hidden if he can get his head into a coral niche. No matter that his body is completely visible; the epaulet shark, this ostrich of the sea, can't see you, and he lies still as a stone, thinking that he is a very clever fish.

Thursday
Mar222007

Rules for the Emergency Room

I found this amusing, after working in the hospital, and, even though at the moment, I hate everyone who works in one.

Rules for the Emergency Room

1. If it requires an ambulance team and an entire truck of firefighters to safely place and transport you on a stretcher, it is time to go on a diet.

2. Never start out by saying, 'I was searching the Internet....'

3. If you have one of these four, go to your own doctor in the morning: a migraine, the flu, a stomach virus, or a stuffy nose. (I'd add one more to this - if you punched a wall, fell down, wrenched something A FEW DAYS AGO, you don't need to be in the ER, you can wait 12 more hours to see your doctor.)

4. We have priorities. We understand that you've been waiting for two hours in the waiting room. If you don't want to wait, make an appointment with a doctor. That little old lady that just walked in looking okay is probably having a massive heart attack. That is why she goes first.

5. If you are a female between the age of 16 and 42 and your last period was between 28 and 35 days ago, please don't waste our time if you are here for abdominal pain and vaginal bleeding. Guess what!?! You got your period - AGAIN!

6. If you see someone pushing a big cart down the hall at full speed and you hear bells going off, do not ask for a cup of coffee. Someone is dying, you inconsiderate asshole.

7. If you can bitch about the blood pressure cuff being too tight, or the IV hurting, you are not in that much pain.

8. If you want a pillow, two blankets and the lights dimmed, go to the Ramada.

9. If you have any sort of stomach pain and you ask for something to eat, you are not sick.

10. Please don't bring in a show and tell. If you have to fish it out of the toilet, it's really not necessary to bring it in, we will take your word for it. If you did fish something out of the toilet, you may not use my pen.

Tuesday
Mar202007

Fun With Dick and Jane

I'll be the first to admit that there are a great many things about life that I do not understand, like, agree with.... well, understand is the biggest, I think. And, some things are just so out of normal that they're kind of amusing.

Today was a plethora of such, let me tell you...

1. My hair is getting longer and as it is now at the bottom of my collar, today I had to write a memo requesting the allowed 6 weeks of 'having un-regulation hair' while it grows out. Hopefully, six weeks will be enough time for it to become long enough to put in a bun. I'm not holding my breath, however, since even if it is long enough - I've never done a bun in my entire life, not to mention the whole arm-above-the-head-excruciating-pain thing.

2. After FOUR DAYS of requesting and waiting, requesting and waiting, requesting and waiting again, Elmer's 'new on-call' doctor finally called. That man I saw on the weekend? That shivering mess who didn't know who I was? He spent three days spiking a 40 and 41 (105.8) degree temperature. Popular wisdom indicates that when a fever of 106 degrees fahrenheit or higher (in adults) remains at this level for a prolonged period of time, seizures, brain damage, even death, can result.

Today? Still at 38.5.

The nurse told my brother that the antibiotic they were giving him cost $1,000 a dose, like, you know, LOOK HOW HARD WE'RE WORKING! The doctor today told me that it's the ONLY ONE that'll work.

Strangely, they think the sepsis (and fever) may be caused by the stones they've been trying to remove all week. The same stones that they knew about and sent him home with three weeks before.

So, yeah, I appreciate that you're trying to help him, I really really do. But don't try and come off all saintly, like you didn't fuck it all up in the first place. And really, positive is good, but stop telling my family that he's doing so well that you figure he'll be home in 3 or 4 days. ESPECIALLY since the doctor's never said that and never would.

3. For the grand finale? Probably one of the worst things I've ever encountered in my life. It's bad enough that people are so ignorant that I don't go downtown in uniform these days, that one day last week on my way back from the hospital in a cab (in uniform) some guy in another car verbally attacked me for being in the military. Something that makes me ashamed to be a Canadian, and, if I spend any time at all thinking about it, ashamed to be human.

On Feb 19, a Canadian soldier was awarded the Canadian Medal of Military Valor. Here's a kind of long bit out of the article that details what he did to warrant such a medal.

The soldiers of 5 Platoon, Bravo Company, Second Battalion, Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry, patrolled some of the most dangerous districts of Kandahar Province from January until August of 2006. During the last four months of patrolling, their company was routinely ambushed, or engaged in firefights with Taliban insurgents. Most attacks were initiated as ambushes against the Canadian troops. The Taliban are a fluid fighting force, lightly equipped, working in small groups, and able to take advantage of familiarity with the ground in setting up ambushes.

The result of a well-laid ambush should be no survivors. The tactics and fighting spirit of Bravo Company and other Canadian troops in the area turned the tables during these attacks, resulting in very few friendly casualties.

Early on May 24, 5 Platoon, affectionately known as ‘Fightin’ Five,’ left a patrol base in the Panjwayi District west of Kandahar City, and crossed the Arghandab River into the Pashmul District to continue operations in search of the Taliban. Civilians had been observed leaving the area, and it was unusually ‘quiet,’ indicating to the soldiers that there would be fighting before the day was out. As expected there were ‘troops in contact’ (TIC’s) early in the day. Platoons patrolling in the area engaged the enemy as they came upon them, or were ambushed as they made their way down narrow roads. Limited sight lines created by a maze of mud walls and fields of dense vegetation made the area tough to patrol, and even tougher to fight in.

“We (Bravo) were in fire-fights most of the afternoon,” said Warrant Officer Young. “We were patrolling on foot, and using the trucks as gun platforms. Everything is really closed in, when we got ambushed, we’d fight our way out. By the end of the afternoon we moved back to consolidate with other elements of the company.”

After receiving new orders, 5 Platoon began a move back to the company’s main position a few kilometres away. The move would take them through an area where they had been fighting earlier in the afternoon. As they advanced the helicopters that had been providing additional protection left. They had been in the area most of the afternoon and were low on fuel. Shortly after the helicopters left, the platoon came under fire again, but they continued to advance, slowly, making good use of the cover provided by the high mud walls.

“Then all hell broke loose. There was a massive explosion right in front of me, the guy ahead of me dropped, I thought he was gone,” said the Warrant Officer, “there was dust and rubble everywhere. Then about six Rocket Propelled grenades (RPG’s) and all kinds of small arms fire came in.”

The explosion was a rocket from a recoilless-rifle, much larger than an RPG. It had penetrated the mud wall and struck a G-Wagon just to the front of Warrant Officer Young. The rocket tore through the G-Wagon, shredding the legs of an interpreter sitting in the back seat. On impact, the driver jumped out, Junior, the interpreter, pulled himself out on the other side.

The platoon reacted immediately. The machine-guns mounted on the other trucks in the patrol returned fire to the three points of attack. Soldiers on the ground returned fire and threw grenades at Taliban fighters barely 30 meters away. The G-Wagon struck by the rocket caught fire as Junior was carried to the safety of a nearby ditch. Master Corporal Lizette Leblanc and Corporal Andrew Eykelenboom, a medic, applied tourniquets and stabilised his injuries. (The interpreter has recovered well under the care of Canadian military doctors at Kandahar Airfield, and will receive continuing care as required. The medic who saved his life, Corporal Andrew Eykelenboom, was killed in action a few weeks later, August 11.)

“Private Barron, right behind the G-Wagon, he dropped down with the blast, I thought he lost his face. He covered it when he dropped. We thought he was done, but he got up, he was good to go,” said Sergeant Pickard. As the rest of platoon fought the taliban, Master Corporals Fitzgerald and Alden exposed themselves to fire in an attempt to push aside the damaged G-Wagon that was now blocking their escape.

Sergeant Pickard said, “We’re in an ambush, rounds are coming in, and we’re at a standstill because of this burning vehicle on the road, we had to decide what we were going to do with it.” He speculated that the Taliban may close in on them because of the downed vehicle.

“Things were happening fast, that’s when Fitz just jumped in and drove it into the ditch, that was something he did on his own initiative. Once that vehicle was in the ditch we got out of there.”

The soldiers of 5 Platoon look back on that day and wonder how it was possible to have been in so many firefights and none of their own were killed. That was one day in four months of continuous fighting. “I can’t tell you what would have happened if Fitz hadn’t moved that G-Wagon, we were only a platoon, less than 30 of us, stuck on the road in an ambush, going back was not an option,” said Sergeant Pickard.

On the weekend of March 10th, in his hometown, he was attacked in a bar. The news stories are here and here.

Some quotes:

Master Cpl. Collin Fitzgerald, who was awarded a Medal of Military Valour for his heroic actions by Gov. Gen. Michaelle Jean on Feb. 19, said witnesses told him one of his attackers said "what kind of f--king hero are you now" as he was being pulled off him.

Master Cpl. Fitzgerald had his foot broken in three places and needed 10 stitches to close a cut above his right eye. The 27-year-old soldier also suffered a broken nose, chipped tooth and black eye in the attack, which occurred just before 2 a.m. Saturday at Nick's Sports Bar.

He had only been in the bar about 30 minutes when he was struck from behind, he said yesterday from his home in Trenton.

"I don't even remember getting hit," he said. "I went and sat down at one of the tables, and next thing I knew I woke up and had a hole in my head and I couldn't walk on my foot," said Master Cpl. Fitzgerald, who is well-known in the small town of about 3,000 people. "I was just covered in blood. I didn't know what happened to me."

Mr. Paradis said a few minutes before the assault, Master Cpl. Fitzgerald had a verbal confrontation with another bar patron, but the matter appeared to be settled.

"That's where it escalated from," said Mr. Paradis, 25, who stepped between the two men who then went their separate ways.

Before heading to the bathroom, Mr. Paradis said he approached the man and told him Master Cpl. Fitzgerald wanted to buy him a beer.

"He said 'I'll go shake his hand then,' " said Mr. Paradis.

But a few minutes later, "somebody steps in and a few other guys took shots while he was down," said Mr. Paradis, who returned to find his friend on the floor. Mr. Paradis said he confronted the man who attacked Master Cpl. Fitzgerald, who told him he was aiding his friend.

Mr. Paradis, who only caught the tail end of the initial confrontation, said the argument appeared to be about Master Cpl. Fitzgerald "being a hero."

And you can point out all you like (as a member of my family did) that he may very well have been coming off all cocky but, to me, that's like saying the chick in the short skirt deserved to be raped.

AND YOU DON'T EVER GO THERE WITH ME.

This world needs to shake it's fucking head.

Monday
Mar192007

Oh, Year of the Pig, That Explains it ALL

You know, there's just a whole ton of shit around everything right now and I suppose if I actually explained what was going on, then it'd make a whole bunch more sense and I'd stop sounding so angry. But.... I'm one of those people who want others to UNDERSTAND me and you know what? I think that whole part of my personality has to go.

Because it allows people to hurt me with their own shit. Shit they need to be seeing a doctor about for a refill of their meds and not something that should be used to hurt innocent bystanders.

After a long talk with my older sister about some of my particular personality traits, the issues of the people involved in the sickness of the Elmer, the feelings of those whom it's customary to feel more than they do and the steps I need to take to honor the one thing that needs to be honored - my relationship with him, I've shut some of the doors to things that just aren't required. Things that don't need to be dealt with, work that doesn't need to be done, people who don't need to be there and I'm feeling a bit better about what needs to be done. For me.

And I just don't give a shit if no one understands it or not.

On a lighter note, if I'd been paying attention to the change-over to the year of the pig, then I would have been PREPARED for this.

In 2007 your energy levels rise. Roosters spend less time at work, yet remain very productive. If you have been considering a change of career or company, this year will be favorable to make the move. Remember to balance your words and frank observations with diplomacy and tact to avoid hurt feelings. Changes will take place in your life during 2007 that will set the stage for future progress. Free yourself of anything that slows your progress or hinders your joy. "Remember to forget" - your happiness is before you, not behind you. A favorable year for reunions, family matters, surprise gatherings and even some intercontinental travel.

Monthly Rating:

JAN ***

FEB ***

MAR *

APR ****

MAY ***

JUNE *

JULY *

AUG ***

SEPT **

OCT **

NOV **

DEC **

Monday
Mar192007

Note to Self

I didn't write this. But it fits.

I find so many people point fingers at the wrong places or wrong people and continue to do so because they never ask questions or listen to an answer that might not be what they want to hear. Had she really been concerned she would have asked the question and stuck around for the answer - but she wasn't open to actually changing something. She was open to attacking and feeling "right."

And that's almost as futile as not doing anything at all.

Sunday
Mar182007

A Poem

After Years

Today, from a distance, I saw you

walking away, and without a sound

the glittering face of a glacier

slid into the sea. An ancient oak

fell in the Cumberlands, holding only

a handful of leaves, and an old woman

scattering corn to her chickens looked up

for an instant. At the other side

of the galaxy, a star thirty-five times

the size of our own sun exploded

and vanished, leaving a small green spot

on the astronomer's retina

as he stood on the great open dome

of my heart with no one to tell.

Ted Kooser