Ya Want Ketchup with Those Lies?

The world was on the edge of its collective seat as the strangely-shaped mylar balloon rode the winds a distance of almost 50 miles. Our collective prayers were sent that the 6-year-old boy alledgedly aboard the balloon would be safe. As the aircraft and media chased it, confirmation came from the ground that yes, the boy was trapped in the cardboard container at the bottom of the Jiffy Pop-shaped contraption. A gasp was heard 'round the world as it was suddenly rumored that, perhaps, he had fallen out! Endless speculation followed endless speculation, experts testifying on-air to the effects of the current and whether the balloon would make it to Denver, shut down an airport, and/or crash into the skyscrapers in that heavily-populated city; to the surety that the suddenly tilting basket at the bottom was the direct result of the boy's weight shifting inside it, buffeted and battered by the turbulence of the currents; that the possibility of hypoxia decreased the closer the balloon came to the ground; that the angle of entry toward the ground would determine how hard the balloon hit the ground and the potential for injury or death of its sole occupant.

We learned that not only are there balloon experts, but they can be on-air to explain what we are seeing faster than the on-air talent can pronounce the boy's name correctly.

As the chase 'copter showed a close-up of the balloon as it rotated in the current, it was evident that there was no way into the cardboard container at the bottom of the balloon, nor a way out. That's when I knew there was no child trapped under the flying mylar saucer, a suspicion confirmed by the personnel both in the air and on the ground who let it go, the sense of urgency gone. I figured that the boys had been playing with it because, face it, it's cool, and while the rest of the family went inside for lunch, the boys loosened the tethers, then ran to hide when the balloon pulled free and began to soar across the skies. They knew how much trouble they would be in for setting the balloon free because they knew exactly how mad their father could get. One of the boys, thinking quickly, took the heat off himself by blaming Falcon, who, he told his family, climbed aboard before it left the backyard.

Problem was: great story, but implausible -- and the father knew that as it was he who designed and built it. At that point, at least tell law enforcement and the media that no one is in danger and let the world enjoy watching the balloon without the fear that it would kill a child when it returned to Earth. However, at that time, no one knew the family history, including video of the father's explosive temper demonstrated during two separate segments of Wife Swap: the desperate need for public acclaim outweighed the risk to the rescuers, as well as the trauma to the viewers who believed that a child's life was in danger.

The family chronicled the event with the media, telling lie after lie after lie, both during and following the incident. The collective "we" were duped again by someone who puts fame before fidelity -- and uses his children to make it happen. We can shake off a Jon Gosselin selling himself to the media at the expense of his children's future because we know the legal system will protect the children. However, when it's a 6-year-old child all alone on a runaway balloon that may become his coffin, we take it into our hearts.

Ratings pay for the broadcasts, and the first one on the air with the most dramatic coverage makes the most money. It no longer seems to matter whether what appears to be happening is what is happening: it's all about the ratings, and the on-air talent make it up as they go along, streaming live with an endless chain of experts who can speculate about any topic, any time of the day or night. When will the world no longer have to ask whether it's real or another ghastly prank on the public?

When will the public's right to know right now become secondary to the public's right to know the truth, not the endless speculation and hyperbole the journalists' substitute for solid research? Journalism used to rely on the test of time because the lies inevitably unravel, but no one watches that coverage.

President Obama & the Media (and other stuff)

Random thoughts bouncing through my brain during b'fast:

(1) The mainstream media has to halt coverage of both the Letterman Legacy (subtitle: How to Abuse Positional Power to Gain Decades of Sexual Gratification with Multiple Staffers) and the Gosselin Divorce escapades (subtitle: You, Too, Can Make a Career Off a Gullible Public). As my mother used to say, Fools' names, and fools' faces, are always found in public places.

(2) Refocus the President's press time on the Fox Network: if you make that network your go-to organization for press coverage, they will be so busy covering all the non-events of the presidency that they won't have time to question anything said/done by anyone! Caveat: once Fox is no longer the target of the administration's not-so-hidden private agenda, the "mainstream" media may have to spend some time/do some research to fill their broadcast hours, and they may begin to unearth some real news in the process.

(3) Rather than continuing to polarize the citizens into radical lunatics and liberal progressives, how about we just talk about ... citizens with differing points of view? It doesn't matter what your political philosophy is, as long as you are both exercising the responsibility to think for yourself and the Constitutional right to express yourself in public venues. Well, it does help if the citizen does a bit of research and knows the difference between fact and fiction, but even that is not a citzenship requirement in this nation.

(4) Keep in mind that for any event, private or public, there are two critical needs that must be met: parking and potties. Next time you sell tickets to an outdoor basketball game in a venue that seats 15k, don't stock the toilets with extra rolls of paper if the patrons cannot find parking and enter the venue. Missing the first half of the game this year could be a future deal-breaker.

(5) About the retro football uniforms: I'm sure that a designer spent far too many hours to create the retro look and the NFL ponied up significant monies to pay for them, but they are ugly! And about those sideline outfits worn by the Cleveland Brown's staff: were they designed and paid for by UPS?

(6) Clever workaround: if the voters will not approve gay marriage, the governor signs a bill and voila! The will of the special interest groups is law. Celebrate good times, come on!

(7) A man who relocated to my desert city was shot and killed in the parking lot of the grocery store down the street at 12:30 am by what is described as a "Hispanic" gunman. Facts do not make this a racist accusation: the gunman is described as Hispanic, a culture that comprises about 70% of the Valley's population. What may make this either a racist or a gang shooting is the fact that the man in the parking lot was Asian, and often Hispanics and Asian gangs share bad blood. Just as often, young gang bangers have to make their bones by shooting someone; hence, the victim is in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he wouldn't have known this because he relocated over the weekend and had just finished his second day on his new job.

(8) Sugar-free Jell-o and sugar-free/fat-free instant pudding are good, but so much better when the Jell-o is inside a poke cake frosted with pudding and Cool-Whip mixed together -- or baked into a chocolate pie, a lemon meringue pie, or used to create the jell in a fresh strawberry pie.

(9) So, if my A1C and my blood sugar are well within normal ranges and have been for the past two years, am I still diabetic? Or have I reverted to the "pre" diabetes grey area in which I've lived for about ... 40 years ... since my first pregnancy?

(10) If I had $10K, could I make changes to my kitchen that would not just make it more user-friendly, but also provide me with adequate storage for all the boxes marked "kitchen" that are still in the garage? I've been cleaning cupboards, but emptying what I have does NOT increase over-all storage!

Okay, I'll go back to reading during my morning meal, rather than just thinking about what I'm thinking about.

I Feel Healthy, Oh So Healthy!

Talk about impressive: I received a personal call from the doctor's office to assure me that all my labs came back just fine: every test is within normal ranges. That means both my A1C and my blood sugars are fine, so I continue to control the diabetes with diet and exercise. Good. I do not have a problem with cholesterol, which given my family history is amazing and another medical challenge I don't have to handle at this time.

However, I still have a spot in my back that hurts like hell, and getting an appointment for the ultrasound continues to be a challenge.

I called again yesterday, between classes, to make the appointment, confident that the doctor's orders were in the lab's office. Not so. I heard the same "we cannot make an appointment without the doctor's orders," and my response was predicated on my on-going back pain: "That is bullshit!" I explained how many phone calls I had made between the imaging lab and my doctor's office over a period of three days and concluded that even an incompetent staff at either location would have the doctor's orders by now.

To her credit, the employee on the receiving end of my temper tantrum said, "Let me put you on hold while I contact the doctor's office," which I assumed would be a ploy to add to my cell phone usage and end in frustration. Happily, I was wrong: within two minutes she said they had the doctor's orders, so we began the process of finding an appointment time that worked for both of us.

They manage four offices in four different parts of the Valley, including "up the hill," which is where I am on Wednesday. Since the other 3 offices did not have availability until later next week, I opted for stopping for the ultra-sounds on my way home tomorrow: my back hurts, and I want to know the cause.

I'll let you know how it goes.

La-La-La Labs

This morning, I drove to PS for the lab work required prior to my annual physical. I arrived, along with several other patients, at 7 am only to realize that the lab opens at 8 am, so I drove to Wal-Mart and bought non-perishables before returning to the lab at 7:45 am. By this time, there were already almost 2 dozen patients (and their family members; Hispanics enjoy family outings, even to the lab) lined up at the door. I joined their ranks, determined to be in and out and back home by 9 am.

Yeah, right. Each patient has to sign in, take a seat, and wait to be called for the check-in process that includes both the lab request and the insurance card. A new twist this visit was that each patient has to provide an "open" line of credit on a credit card so if the insurance does not pay within 45 days, it goes onto the patient's credit card.

My reaction: hell, no. I simply told them that I did not have a credit card with me, which is true as I only carry a debit card. I said that they are welcome to bill me if I owe a balance and I will be glad to send them a check -- but I'm not presenting them with a credit card! I added that there is no way I want my credit card information available in their files, along with my signed permission to debit the card, unless ALL of their employees, including delivery personnel and the custodial staff are licensed and bonded. And, I asked that the proof be presented to me before I signed the permission form.

They did my lab work this time, but I probably have not heard the end of the discussion.

However, because so many patients arrived for their lab work, the majority of us fasting for a blood work-up, my name was not called until 9:15 am. It only took a minute, but I ate my dinner at 6 pm yesterday, so it seemed like a really long time to go without eating. Presented with an opportunity to enjoy someone else's cooking, I drove to my favorite downtown diner for a breakfast burrito before driving back home.

What tickled my funny bones this morning was the elderly couple that arrived at the lab to find patients filling all the chairs, as well sitting on the brick wall outside the lab. The old man could not process all these people at the lab when it had just turned 8:00 and the lab had just opened its doors. He was convinced that the lab opened at 6:30 am, as it does on weekday mornings. He spoke loudly with his wife, with the people sitting to his side, and then got up to go through it all again with the lab staff. The woman sitting next to me got the giggles as she said, kinda loudly, "Which part of it doesn't he understand?" but then she really lost it when her husband's name was called, Gwen James, instead of James Whatever the real pronunciation of his last name.

Sad to say that she was probably the only person at the lab this morning having fun, and when I left, the old guy was still trying to convince his wife that the lab must have opened its doors at 6:30 this morning.

Starting Over -- Again

Why is it that each time I go see "my" doctor, we start over? It's as if I've never set foot in the office prior to this visit. This time, we updated my medical records, which show I have an allergy to shrimp, one of my favorite seafoods. When we checked the list of current medications, I said, "No, you told me not to continue taking that medication the last time I was here."

"Oh," was the response.

However, when I explained that I do have a concern this visit and described it, I was asked if I am "still taking" a medication that has never been prescribed for me! When I responded that I am not and why, I was told that "every patient with diabetes should be taking this medication to prevent kidney damage."

At that point, I asked why, if it is she who told me that I have diabetes three years ago, that medication was not prescribed at that time. "I'm not sure," was the reply.

Guess this is heavy-handed of me, but I expect my doctor to be "sure," not to make guesses. And, it may be that my present medical issue is related to that failure to prescribe the medication three years ago!

I also have spent 3 days making phone calls as I was supposed to have an ultra-sound "stat" on my back/kidney area, as well as the arteries in my neck, one to address the present issue and the other to follow-up on the vertigo that has been part of my life for about 18 months! The question was, "Have we tried anything else for the vertigo," to which I responded no, not after the five separate visits to the office did not produced the desired results, and that is what led to the "let's try an ultrasound on the arteries" because it could indicate hardening of the arteries, which I've been led to believe can be a significant medical issue, not an after-thought.

The reason for all the phone calls the past couple of days is that the lab never called me to schedule the procedure, so when I contacted the doctor's office, they told me to call the lab, which told me that they didn't have the doctor's orders, so I was directed to call the doctor back, who assured me that they have been faxed, which meant that I had to call the lab back, which would not schedule the procedure because they still don't have the orders!!!!!

At that point, I directed the lab to call the doctor directly because it is NOT my job to be the go-between. I am the patient; I need the procedures; set it up and do it. My "stat" procedure will now be sometime next week, I guess, as I still have not heard back from the lab to set up an appointment.

I am loathe to go the doctor because every office visit seems to result in the same scenario: I have a medical issue which (1) never turns out to be serious and (2) always turns into a fiasco.