Apr 29, 2008
A little over 2 years ago I had a torn rotator cuff in my right shoulder. I had surgery on it, it was supposed to be just a scoping, but it turned out to be a partial tear on one tendon and a complete tear of a second. So they had to cut me open and get things fixed up. The root of the problem was a bone spur that wore things away through time. That shoulder is doing quite well now and stronger than the left.
Now, in the past few weeks I have noticed some pain in the left shoulder, and got on this one right away. Same doc says that the MRI shows the same bone spur and another tear in the left shoulder.
Yeah, I guess I got the matching set!
Surgery is May 6th, here we go again...
Apr 25, 2008
I will pause while you all fill in your own joke...
OK, here is the article and pictures, sit back and let the awesome flow over you.
Designer Erik De Nijs, has stitched together this eye catching pair of “Beauty and the Geek” jeans. These “modern shaped trousers which are often worn by youngsters..” are the perfect solution for Googling quick exits while running from the fashion police. Built into the knees are a pair of crotch rocking speakers, around the back you have the added convenience of a back pocket for your “mouse”, and for you gamers, there is a joystick controller located just behind the front zipper.
Apr 22, 2008
Here is that piece:
The Big Hero of Littleton
As usual, coach Dave Sanders spent Tuesday of last week at Columbine High hanging around the kids.
One kept constant pressure on the gaping gunshot wounds in Sanders's shoulders, using T-shirts off other kids' backs. Another made a pillow from kids' sweatshirts for his head. Others covered his shivering body with more shirts.
Outside the science room bullets and shrapnel were still flying, but inside, where Sanders lay, the kids were quietly keeping him talking, conscious, alive. "Who's this?" they whispered, going through his wallet, showing him his own pictures.
"My ... wife ... Linda," he said with what little breath he had. They asked him about the pictures of his daughters Angela and Coni. They asked him about coaching the Columbine girls' basketball team. They asked him about coaching the girls' softball team. They asked him about all of the boys' and girls' teams he used to coach. A man coaches just about every team at a school over 25 years, there's a lot to cover.
Every high school has a Coach Sanders, the giving one, the joking one, the one who sets up the camps, sacrifices his nights to keep the gym open, makes sure the girls have the weight room to themselves twice a week. RUN, GUN AND HAVE FUN is what the girls' basketball team T-shirts said last season and it worked. The Rebels had their best record in a decade. So when he ran into the cafeteria on Tuesday morning at 11:30, his face bright red, and yelled, "Get out! Get out! They're shooting!" the hundreds of kids in there took him seriously.
Some people believe Sanders saved the lives of more than 200 kids that day. Witnesses say he led many to the kitchen, to the auditorium, to safety. "He saved my life," says Brittany Davies, one of his jayvee basketball players, "and then he kept running, cutting across the lunchroom, telling people to get down. He left himself in the open where he could get shot."
Columbine English teacher Cheryl Lucas told the Rocky Mountain News, "He was the most responsible for saving a bunch of lives .... They would've been sitting ducks if not for Mr. Sanders." But that wasn't enough for Sanders. There must have been a dozen ways out of the cafeteria to safety. Instead, he ran upstairs to warn more kids.
"I was standing in the science room, looking out the window [in the door leading to the hall]," says Greg Barnes, a varsity basketball player. "Then I saw Coach Sanders turn around, take two shots, right in front of me. Blood went flying off him and he fell."
Sanders got up and staggered into the science room. Teeth were knocked out when he fell. Blood was pouring from his shoulders and chest. A roomful of kids leaped back. Eagle Scout Aaron Hancey, a junior who videotapes boys' basketball games, began applying pressure to the wounds.
An hour went by. The gunmen had tried to enter the room next to the science room but couldn't. Hancey talked to police on the science room phone, telling them where he and the others were, that Coach Sanders was badly wounded. The police said a SWAT team was coming.
A second hour went by. Someone crept to a science room window facing the parking lot and held up a sign that read 1 BLEEDING TO DEATH. Still, no SWAT team. No fire ladder to the window. No chopper.
Three hours and nothing. The kids in the science room weren't hearing explosions anymore, but they dared not run for it. They figured the killers could be anywhere. How could they know that the killers had been dead for more than an hour?
Somehow, Sanders stayed alive, despite losing body heat, blood and breath. "He was a brave man," says Hancey. "He hung in there. He was a tough guy."
Finally, after 3 1/2 hours, a SWAT team burst in. One member said he'd wait with Sanders until a stretcher came. "Even if they'd gotten him out then," says Hancey, "I think he would've made it."
Outside, in the hollow-eyed afternoon, there came a rumor that Sanders was in surgery at a Denver hospital. For hours Linda and the girls frantically called area hospitals. Nothing. Finally, at about 9 p.m., Angela went live on a Denver TV station and pleaded, "Does anybody know where my father is?"
Her father was still in that science room. He died by the time paramedics reached him. He died a couple hundred yards from 300 cops and dozens of ambulances. Only the kids in that terrifying room heard his last words:
"Tell my girls I love them."
Everybody said Dave Sanders lived for kids.
Should've known he'd die for them, too.
Apr 19, 2008
Johnny Yen tagged me with a new meme, and get this - it's all about links out there on them there inter-tubes!
Anybody who reads me knows that I spend just a bit of time digging around for an occasional quirky vid to post, so this should be easy, right? Wait, what were those pesky rules again?
1. Must be clean, no R rated material. (OK, so I am pretty much screwed here if it has to be clean...)
2. Tell 5 people.
3. Only 5 links allowed.
4. Link back to person who tagged you.
You can link to business, favorite, affiliate sites, etc.
Well, I will attempt this anyway, and away we go...
This is a pretty cool site where you get to see commercials from all over the world. A lot of stuff shows up here before you catch it on TV, and the European stuff is excellent. Not as strict on the censorship across the pond!
The sandbox is a site where the folks who are right in the middle of the conflict get to tell it like it is. Light on political views and policy, just what is really going on with the people who are putting their lives on the line daily.
Lot's of funny stuff here, videos galore and the folks that run the site go and find the funny for you. What could be better?
Quite possibly the greatest time-sucking device ever invented, once I find something then I start looking at the related links, then I follow those related links, next thing I know it's two days later, I haven't had anything to eat or performed any type of personnel hygiene, and the dogs are trying to roll on me.
Yeah, sure it's my ISP, but the links they have for news kind of cover the entire gambit, and their collection of Odd News is wonderful!
6 -25 They are all R-rated or above...
I think I will tag Suze, Chris, The lemon-y-est one around, Flannery because she needs to share this valuble info before she shuts down, and finally a new blogger, Mountain Mom.
Apr 18, 2008
Apr 16, 2008
Apr 15, 2008
"From its extraction through sale, use and disposal, all the stuff in our lives affects communities at home and abroad, yet most of this is hidden from view. The Story of Stuff is a 20-minute, fast-paced, fact-filled look at the underside of our production and consumption patterns. The Story of Stuff exposes the connections between a huge number of environmental and social issues, and calls us together to create a more sustainable and just world. It'll teach you something, it'll make you laugh, and it just may change the way you look at all the stuff in your life forever."
Thanks to my brother-in-law Chuck for passing this on to me, take a gander and go to Annies web site to check it out.
Apr 14, 2008
Apr 12, 2008
Apr 9, 2008
Texas Tech University Basketball game, Feb 9th, National Anthem sung by 5 young ladies. Home video quality, sorry about that.
Apr 8, 2008
This is a big deal people. This has been the ticket to fame and fortune for several folks whose names escape me at the moment. But I am sure they were to later reflect on their moment of Firecrotchness as the single most pivotal event in their sad little lives.
I vow to only use my newfound prowess for the good of all mankind, or to at least try and score some spokesperson gig for good booze.
Apr 7, 2008
Viacom continues to pursue a $1 billion lawsuit against Google's YouTube for allowing video piracy. On Viacom's Comedy Central, South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone aren't helping their corporate parent's legal case. In last night's episode, Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny asked themselves "How Do We Make Money on the Internet?" and predictably, they find it difficult — just like YouTube. This leads to a South Park scene straight out of Viacom CEO Philippe Daumann's dreams as, one by one, the viral-video sensations that made YouTube so big are destroyed. Here's the scene in two clips.
WARNING: Like everything else on South Park, it's graphic!
Apr 6, 2008
Apr 4, 2008
Apr 3, 2008
I enjoy hearing from those who have been there, not the politicians who make quick stops for photo ops.
Here is something from a Navy doctor returning from Iraq that I picked up from Military.com:
Greetings all from hot, hot, hot Iraq.
We are short indeed...although not quite as short as we had originally thought...our flight home has been posted and is showing up 3 days later than planned.
The good news is that we leave in the middle of the night and arrive (all admin complete, including turning our weapons into the armory) around dinnertime at Pendleton on the same day we leave (11 hrs time difference). The other good news is it appears we've got commercial contract air carriers taking us home so we don't have to worry about sleeping on the cold steel deck of an Air Force C-17.
So...we turned over authority of the surgical company last week to our replacements, who had a serious trial by fire here in multiple ways, including multiple traumas, surgeries, increased risk to their personal safety, power outages, water outages, and camel spiders in the hospital...all in their first 4 days. But a few days ago, we heard the helicopters coming and knew they were dealing with multiple traumas, several of which were going to the OR...and we sat in our barracks and waited for them to call us if they needed us. They never did. Last week was the ceremony to mark the official end of our role here. Now we just wait.
As the days move very slowly by, just waiting, I decided that one of the things I should work on for my own closure and therapeutic healing is a list. The list would be a comparison: "Things That Were Good" about Iraq and being deployed with the Marines as one of the providers in a surgical company, and "Things That Were Not Good." Of course, it's quite obvious that this list will be very lopsided. But I thought I would do it anyway, hoping that somehow the trauma, the fear, the grief, the laughter, the pride and the patriotism that have marked this long seven months for me will begin to make sense, through my writing.
Interestingly, it sort of turned into a poem. To be expected, I guess. Most of all it's just therapy, and by now I should be relatively good at that. Hard to do for yourself, though.
So here goes...in reverse order of importance...
Things That Were Good
Sunset over the desert...almost always orange
Sunrise over the desert...almost always red
The childlike excitement of having fresh fruit at dinner after going weeks without it
Being allowed to be the kind of clinician I know I can be, and want to be, with no limits placed and no doubts expressed
But most of all, The United States Marines, our patients... Walking, every day, and having literally every single person who passes by say "Hoorah, Ma'am..."
Having them tell us, one after the other, through blinding pain or morphine-induced euphoria..."When can I get out of here? I just want to get back to my unit..."
Meeting a young Sergeant, who had lost an eye in an explosion. He asked his surgeon if he could open the other one. When he did, he sat up and looked at the young Marines from his fire team who were being treated for superficial shrapnel wounds in the next room. He smiled, laid back down, and said, "I only have one good eye, Doc!, but I can see that my Marines are OK."
And of course, meeting the one who threw himself on a grenade to save the men at his side...who will likely be the first Medal of Honor recipient in over 11 years.
My friends...some of them will be lifelong in a way that is indescribable
My patients...some of them had courage unlike anything I've ever experienced before
My comrades, Alpha Surgical Company...some of the things witnessed will traumatize them forever, but still they provided outstanding care to these Marines, day in and day out, sometimes for days at a time with no break, for 7 endless months
And last, but not least...
Holding the hand of that dying Marine
Things That Were Not Good
Terrifying camel spiders, poisonous scorpions, flapping bats in the darkness, howling, territorial wild dogs, flies that insisted on landing on our faces, giant, looming mosquitoes, invisible sand flies that carry leischmaniasis
132 degrees - wearing long sleeves, full pants and combat boots in 132 degrees
Random and totally predictable power outages that led to sweating throughout the night
Sweating in places I didn't know I could sweat...like wrists, and ears
The roar of helicopters overhead
The resounding thud of exploding artillery in the distance
The popping of gunfire...
Not knowing if any of the above sounds is a good thing, or bad thing
The siren, and the inevitable "big voice" yelling at us to take cover...
Not knowing if that siren was on someone's DVD or if the big voice would soon follow
The cracking sound of giant artillery rounds splitting open against rock and dirt
The rumble of the ground...
The shattering of the windows...
Hiding under flak jackets and Kevlar helmets, away from the broken windows, waiting to be told we can come to the hospital...to treat the ones who were not so lucky...
Watching the helicopter with the big red cross on the side landing at our pad
Worse...watching Marine helicopters filled with patients landing at our pad...because we usually did not realize they were coming...
Ushering a sobbing Marine Colonel away from the trauma bay while several of his Marines bled and cried out in pain inside
Meeting that 21-year-old Marine with three Purple Hearts...and listening to him weep because he felt ashamed of being afraid to go back
Telling a room full of stunned Marines in blood-soaked uniforms that their comrade, that they had tried to save, had just died of his wounds
Trying, as if in total futility, to do anything I could, to ease the trauma of group after group...that suffered loss after loss, grief after inconsolable grief...
Washing blood off the boots of one of our young nurses while she told me about the one who bled out in the trauma bay...and then the one who she had to tell, when he pleaded for the truth, that his best friend didn't make it...
Listening to another of our nurses tell of the Marine who came in talking, telling her his name...about how she pleaded with him not to give up, told him that she was there for him...about how she could see his eyes go dull when he couldn't fight any longer...
And last, but not least...
Holding the hand of that dying Marine.
Lieutenant Commander XX, MD, USN A member of Alpha Surgical Company, 1st Med Battalion, 1st MEF
Apr 1, 2008
Fultz says she "locked up."
"I don't fall over and convulse, but it hurts," says Fultz, an IT worker in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. "I was on the phone when it happened, and I couldn't move and couldn't speak."
After about 10 seconds, Fultz's 11-year-old son came over and drew her gaze away from the computer, then killed the browser process, she says.There is a bit more in the two articles, but what it was meant to do was cause people who are already sensitive to pattern seizures to have an episode.
This probably sounds like great fun to some pimply faced geeky ass-hat sitting in mommas basement with nothing better to do, but those nerds have never seen a full fledged Grand Mal seizure.
I have seen too many of them.
Skylers seizures are brought on by stress, usually too much sensory input and have been caused by pain. If we are lucky, it is an absense seizure, where he just checks out for a few minutes. He can come back from those pretty quick, and not suffer any lasting effect.
When it is a Grand Mal, it starts with him clicking his tongue, then progresses to involuntary rhythmic movement. His head twitches to the side at the same time his eyes are rapidly going back and forth. He gets really hot and sweaty, because the body is working quite hard and he is overheating. Signals in his brain are telling his whole body to do different things, and the body is attempting to respond to all of them.
About 5-7 minutes into this he starts to throw up, usually until the stomach is empty. Then he dry heaves. If this isn't enough he looses what limited control he has over his bladder and bowels.
Are we having a real good time yet you worthless piece of shit hackers?
Now comes the hilarious part. If w can't talk him down pretty soon, his brain will start to fry. It just can't take all of this, and something has to give. We administer Valium suppositories that we carry everywhere we go. This has worked all but one time, where we get an ambulance ride to the ER to administer IV drugs.
If the ambulance ride is too long, or they can't get an IV started quickly, guess what?
The kid dies.
I wish for 5 minutes in the same room with you dickheads.