BTW, Happy birthday Ashley and Happy Birthday U.S. Army and Happy Flagday everybody!

Day 4 of my parents’ visit

Uh-oh.  060606,  A day of superstitious lore.  Mom spent the whole day worrying that either something bad was going to happen or the rapture would take place or something big.  The big news, which the media couldn’t ignore but you could tell the various papers’ attitudes by the photos they ran, was the killing of a devil on the next day.  I mention the photos because of the three papers I read, The Gazette, The Denver Post and The Rocky Mountain News; Libertarian, Liberal and Conservative; The Gazette showed the picture of a general taking down the old picture of al-zark carrying his rifle and looking haughty and proud and putting up the picture of his corpse, The DP used the haughty and proud picture and the Rocky Mountain News ran a full front page pic of the corpse.  That was for another day, however.  Nothing bad happened, but I learned a little bit more about my dad’s era.

“My ma said it was hot the day I was born.  The first of May [in Wisconsin] and they had every window in the house open.  1926.  They called the doctor, but had to wait for him to get there in a horse and buggy.  By the time he got there the baby was born already.  He still charged $50 for delivering the baby, but what for?  He didn’t do anything.”  Dad was the second youngest of 13 and they were all born at home.

“We all had our chores to do.  I had to help with the dishes and bring in the firewood.  I hated that job, digging the wood out of the snow.  Cold.  My fingers felt like they were gonna freeze off.  And you didn’t just forget to do your chores, either.  One time I didn’t bring in the wood and my dad made me go back out there, then he took one of the pieces off the pile and beat me on the back with it.  I never forgot to do my chores again, let me tell you.”  (I know some of my readers are cringing in horror, but to him this was just a natural thing and he did not tell it as though he had been traumatized and were reliving some horror, but merely telling the facts of life.  He gets much more upset and was much more traumatized by telling about losing his brother.)

“Well, didn’t you have schoolwork to do?”

“Yes, we did that after the chores were all done.  I studied by lamplight.”

“You had a phone, but no electricity?”

“No electricity.  Us kids couldn’t use the phone.  That was strictly for business and important calls.  I couldn’t just get on it and call my friends, we couldn’t afford it.  Besides, my dad would have said it was all foolishness, what did kids have to talk to each other about?”

“So what time did you finish your chores?”

“About 8 O’clock.  Then study.  Then go to bed.  There were no registers or heat vents upstairs.  The girls slept on the west side and when they would get up in the morning they would have a thin layer of ice on their water glass.  I was lucky; I slept on the east side where it was a little warmer.  Then get up at 4 in the morning and go out to the barn and hang a lantern (I didn’t find out the distinction between a lamp and a lantern but there was one) on each end and start milking the cows.”

“So, when did you ever get electricity?”

“Oh, when my sister married an electrician, around 1938 or ’39.”  Everyone laughed, but he wasn’t done, “I’ll never forget that time when we put up the electric fence and the dog wet on it.  He never did that again.”

Remember, The Good Book says, “A cheerful heart is good medicine…”

Day 3 of my parents’ visit

My dad is a good conversationalist (when he has his hearing aids on and is looking right at you) and story-teller so you will hear a little more about him than my mom, who, although she is not a quiet person, just isn’t as quotable as dad.

In the middle of the intersection of Nevada and Platte avenues is a large statue of General William Jackson Palmer, the city’s founding father, horseback.  Dad was stationed at Camp Carson in 1947 with the Army and when we drove by the statue, he said, “We marched in a parade right past that statue.  I’m surprised it’s still there.  A lot of times in these big towns they try to get rid of stuff like that.”

“Oh, there have been some that have tried.”  Springs residents of any length will know this is something that comes up every few years because people that come here from California other states don’t know how to drive and can’t figure out how to get around it.  It’s merely an obstruction, like a median or boulevard or something like that.  Oh well, that’s another entry for the future.  I explained all this and dad said, “Maybe those people from California other states should just go back where they came from.  This city has gotten so big I would never be able to recognize anything or find my way around.  How many people are in this city now, about 50,000?”

“No, about 400,000 in the city itself.”

“When I was out here it was just a small town.  Sometimes we would get on a bus and go into town or maybe go up to Denver.”

“Have you ever been to Pueblo?”

“Oh yes.  One time we went down there and stayed at the Pueblo Hotel.  I saw there was a ladybug in the other guy’s bed when he pulled back the sheets and I said, ‘Look.  There’s a bedbug in your bed.’  That guy couldn’t sleep all night because of that.  I slept like a log because I knew there weren’t any bedbugs there, but I didn’t think he’d take me serious like that.  Oh well.  He should have known better than that.”

My dad has always had a good sense of humor.

This was also our 26^th wedding anniversary.  Someone came up with the idea of us all going out to eat.  By this they meant mom and dad and Grandma Pike, Abigail, Tabitha, Ben, Isabel and Savannah and Troy, Elizabeth and Douglas.  This was too major of an undertaking, so we just kind of blew it off this year.  Besides the logistical problems it also seemed like an expensive undertaking.  So a massive UNO game ensued, which Grandma Thiel loves immensely.

More tomorrow.

Remember, the good book says, “Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Day 2 of my parents’ visit

“You have the friendliest church, Herbie.”

“Some of them people still remembered us from last time.  They were real nice.”

So the day started pretty good, although mom got winded and tired out going from the handicapped parking to the first bank of pews.  I am really poor about eyeballing distances, but I know it’s not a hundred yards, maybe fifty – sixty feet?  Anyway, she had to sit down.  Later on in the day Margaret noticed she seemed to be having some problems breathing and decided to call the paramedics to check her oxygen.  Up here there is a problem some people develop called “altitude sickness” which comes from the sudden changes in air pressure and oxygen as you go from sea level to 6000+ feet.  They arrived and checked her O2 level and listened to her breathing.

“It doesn’t sound like there’s any air getting into the lower part of her lungs.  She should probably go to the E.R. to be checked out further.  I really can’t tell.”

So off to the E.R. we go.  I do have to say that Memorial Hospital’s E.R. triaged her pretty well and got her in fairly quickly.  For an E.R. at any rate.

Chest x-rays show fluid in the left lung.  Margaret is in with her because she is the best of all of us at translating medspeak to everyday language.  A very efficient, pleasant, respectful young doctor with a foreign accent says this needs to be drained immediately.  He preps her and then lets Margaret observe as he takes an instrument and “stabs her in the back” making a nice size hole.  He inserts a catheter and winds up draining 1400 CCs (47+ oz or almost 2 qts!  I didn’t even know lungs are that big.) Of fluid from the lung.  This is not good.  He decides, since she is here to visit family and the circumstances, that he won’t keep her overnight but makes a follow-up appointment for her at his office for Thursday.  She needs to go Thursday to have another x-ray done to take to the visit.

Dad is an emotional sort.  Before he received the baptism of the Holy Ghost he was a mean, angry man who was not afraid to let you know verbally or physically what his feelings were.  He’s been in the church for 31 years now and there is not a mean or (unreasonably) angry bone in his body and his emotions are now of a caring and compassionate nature, so it was no surprise to me that his voice cracked and his eyes welled up, (he does when he quotes scriptures, too) as he and I drove along by ourselves at one point and he said, “You know, maybe Pastor knows something we don’t know and that’s why he sent us out here.”

“Yeah, dad, well, maybe he does.  Or maybe he has just figured out some things from his years of experience that we haven’t yet.”

“I’ve been trying to save a little money for cemetery plots.  I think it’s time to start thinking about some of that kind of stuff.  They let me take out a small life insurance policy on your ma and I did it.  Maybe that was a good idea now.”

“Yeah.  Maybe.”

Remember, The Good Book Says, “For the living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing; they have no further reward, and even the memory of them is forgotten.  Their love, their hate and their jealousy have long since vanished; never again will they have a part in anything that happens under the sun.”

*****

Tomorrow some fun.

Hi Everyone,

I have tried to chronicle the parents' visit and plan to post something a little different each day for the next week.  Hopefully in that time I will have some pix ready to post.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Day 1 of my parents' visit

The folks made it in okay.  My mom looks so much like my grandma that it's just like seeing a ghost.  It's only been a year since they were here last, but it looks like they've aged 10.  One of my (many) favorite bloggers, Skunkfeathers, seems, sometimes, to have a fascination with time travel.  The way the old folks looked it felt to me as if I had traveled 10 years into the future and they had to stay and grow old naturally.  They were in wheelchairs because they could never make the long trips around the airports.  By the way, why do the guys that push them expect a tip?  Isn't this part of their duties?  A waitress only makes $2.56 and hour, plus tips, so you are literally robbing her when you don't tip decent, but do these guys not get paid to do their job?  I didn't tip them, but when I got home and asked Margaret she said she always does.  I guess I should have, but there's nothing to be done for it now.

Anyway, the two younger girls and I went to pick them up in the airport.  The flight was 20 minutes early, but it took a while before we finally saw them coming, my mom looking like my grandma and my dad looking…old.  Maybe wine is better aged, but I was shocked at how old he really seemed this time.  He looked and seemed like an 80 year old man.  They were talking about the behavior of a child they had seen in the airport.

"You know Dorothy, my ma would never have put up with that tantum (sic) throwing."

"That was just awful."

"If I would have been out somewhere and would have thrown myself down kicking and crying like that my ma would have given me something to kick and cry about."

"Yeah, yeah.  They don't do nowadays like they did years ago."

"That little girl needed a spanking.  My ma would have whipped that tantum right out of her and she would have had a reason to cry."

"It was different than that other little baby on the plane."

"Well, she was just crying.  Maybe she was scared or something."

Hugs all around when they get up close.  One of the girls took my mom's little carry-on bag.  Then we went down to the baggage claim.

My brother and his girlfriend let them borrow "One of those nice, fancy suitcases that have the wheels" and they found one to match at the Goodwill in Plover, WI.  Nondescript of itself, I knew what to look for.  Masking tape, a piece made about 3" x 5", printed in my Dad's perfect handwriting.  One printed in perfect block letters, the other with that perfect penmanship he has always had.  Even at 80, it is only slightly shakier, he takes a lot of time to write something, but it is very neat.  Maybe I can scan a copy.

Mom is a little more quiet than usual.  Usually by now she has made several complaints, some real, some psychosomatic, but now she almost didn't complain.

"Herbie, can you believe it?"

"Believe what?"

"Your dad is 80 years old and he went flying on an airplane."

"He did last year, and he was 79."

"That's different."

When we got to the house mom took her four-pronged cane, which my dad calls her "four-iron" and headed for the stairs.  Dad started up the hill, but not with the long sure strides I always remembered, but baby steps.  The 80 year old shuffle:  Taking one of the girls' hands for balance; watching every step; looking down to see where his foot would go next; and sometimes stopping and stepping down a couple of times to make sure it was a sturdy enough spot that would hold him.  I've never seen him like that.

Mom made her slow way up the stairs and one of the girls gave her a hand up.  They are used to doing that with Grandma Pike.  Being the only driver, I went and got Lizzy and Douglas while Ben and Isabel and Savannah came over, then I had to run to Sam's and King Soopers.  I came back to an UNO game going full-blast with everyone in it.

One thing was noticeably absent from last year or other visits.  The bickering that would almost always end up in:

"You better behave yourself Dorothy or I'll put you in the nursing home."

"I'll put YOU in the nursing home."

Guess it just ain't funny no more.

Remember, The Good Book says, "Rise in the presence of the aged, show respect for the elderly and revere your God. I am the LORD."

It started out as "Decoration Day" on May 30, not "The last Monday in May."  It was a day when you went to the grave of a loved one who had fallen in battle.  You went to the cemetery and saw the little Flags every where and put flowers on a grave.  Flags were flown at half-mast until noon.  Do you know that you are supposed to raise the flag all the way, and then lower it to half-staff?  At noon you raise it back up again.

1868, Major General Jonathan A. Logan, ret. made a proclamation of what Decoration Day, now Memorial Day, was to be about:

"The 30th of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers, or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country and during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village and hamlet churchyard in the land. In this observance no form of ceremony is prescribed, but posts and comrades will in their own way arrange such fitting services and testimonials of respect as circumstances may permit."

In Flander's Field
by John McCrae
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead.
Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved and now we lie,
In Flanders Fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands, we throw,
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us, who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow,
In Flanders Fields.

That radical organization, the VFW, who hires disabled vets to make the little red poppies, called "Buddy Poppies," they sell at this time of the year, stated in its 2002 Memorial Day address: "Changing the date merely to create three-day weekends has undermined the very meaning of the day. No doubt, this has contributed greatly to the general public's nonchalant observance of Memorial Day."

In 2000, to help re-educate and remind Americans of the true meaning of Memorial Day, the "National Moment of Remembrance" resolution was passed on Dec 2000 which asks that at 3 p.m. local time, for all Americans "To voluntarily and informally observe in their own way a Moment of remembrance and respect, pausing from whatever they are doing for a moment of silence or listening to 'Taps."

So at 3 P.M. I will be thinking about all who have come and gone including Uncle Herbie.

Remember…

When I worked at the big name bookstore there were two things that happened which I think relate directly to the big flap over the new movie, “The Davinci Code.”

One of the things we were supposed to do while we were there was to make sure we were familiar with the books that the store was currently pushing.  These choices were interesting of themselves.  Walk through a big-name bookstore, Borders might be one.  I love to go there and get a latte and wander through the aisles.  When you do, see what they have faced outward and displayed prominently.  You will find over a period of time, that there are specific themes that they push and they are generally not conservative or Christian themes.  As an employee you might have ten calls for “Dereliction of Duty,” a book which shows the incompetence of the Clinton administration through the eyes of the man who carried the “Nuclear Football” and find that it’s backordered; you will have stacks and stacks of Al and Tipper’s book, even though no one is interested in it and the few people who have read it cannot tell you how boring it really was.  This is because the bestseller lists are made up, not of what people are reading or want to read or even actually buying, but by the number of books ordered by bookstores.

One day our boss held a meeting and said that the “powers that be” wanted everyone to read this book, “The Davinci Code” by Dan Brown.  “While they can’t force you to read it, you will be recommending it to the customers and they really want you to read it.”  I am pretty open-minded about books, but I have strong opinions about being told what to read.  Besides, I am not a big mystery/suspense/thriller fan and had several other reading projects at the time.  I know almost nothing about art so any references in that area would be lost on me as well.  My friend read it and she said it was okay, but it was clear that it fit in with the apparent agenda of the bookstore.  She said she was not all that impressed, but if big-name chains pushed it hard enough it was a good enough read to make it.

An unrelated fiasco happened while I worked there.  There is a guy who thinks he is the funniest man who ever lived, Al Franken.  My first exposure to him was when he was on Saturday Night Live.  I hated him.  I thought he was stupid and boring, but those were SNL’s “slump times” when they didn’t have any real writing or acting talent anyway, so he fit right in.  I cannot tell you how stupid I thought he was, or how surprised I was to learn this guy had actually had books published, the newest of which was called “Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them.”  On the cover was a little ticker tape that said, “A Fair and Balanced View” which was also the trademark tag-line for what people have told me is a conservative news show, who got upset about the infringement of their trademark/copyright.  You have to jealously and agressively protect your trademarks and copyrights or you will wind up with little “Calvin and Hobbes” look-alike stickers doing everything from praying to urinating on cars all over.  But they should have seen it coming.  Their court battle immediately became the darling story of the liberal, drive-by media.

“Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them” was 248^th in the top selling books lists one day and a number one best-seller the next.

Now “The Davinci Code” is a movie.  No more exciting, from the reviews I’ve seen, than the stilted dialogue of the book.  A regular dud bomb.  So why are people spending money to see it?  Because they are being told not to.  Something that would not be interesting to the average person has taken on new meaning because it is bad.  It attacks the Christian faith and beliefs.  But let’s step back a moment and remember one thing.  The book was fiction.  The movie is fiction.  All these claims of an attack on Christianity are just so much hype which I believe is artificially generated and pumped up to sell the movie.  When one of the actors was interviewed they asked him if he thought the film should have a disclaimer saying it was fiction at the beginning (what a ridiculous idea) and he replied that he thought the Bible should be required to have such a disclaimer  There you have the heart and soul of Hollyweird.  The same Hollyweird that would not fund “The Passion Of The Christ” (Didn’t go see that one either.  I don’t support Hollyweird if I can help it) and Mr. Gibson had to put up his own money is the same bunch that would fund a poorly written, boring, anti-Christian movie.

This movie attacks on the same basis that all of Hollyweird attacks.  Hollyweird and Mad Ave are driven (ultimately) by greed.  Should we all go out and behave like the 12^th century Islamo-Fascists did when a critical cartoon was published?  What if the Catholics were to behave themselves that way?  Rioting, looting, burning Hollyweird to the ground and killing all the actors and directors is not the way civilized people, especially in Christian nations, behave.

The best way to fight the Davinci code is to not watch it.  Not an organized boycott that will make the news and make undecided people feel sorry for the movie makers or mad that someone is trying to stifle their freedom of speech (which no one is), but rather, just don’t go.  Don’t buy the book or watch the flick, but the more of a fuss you make the more unnecessary attention you draw to it.  Just as with TV and Radio, if you don’t listen, if you turn the set off, that is the loudest voice of all.  Of course you could chose my path and not have any sort of TV equipment in your house and make it your own rule that you won’t support Hollyweird by never going to any movies, which is the best way.

Another way to fight it is to know what you believe.  I know that Jesus was born by Immaculate Conception to the virgin, Mary.  He lived a sinless and blameless life which allowed him to be a sacrifice for our sins.  His blood was shed in a cruel beating called a “scourging” so we could be healed and in crucifixion, nailing our sins to His cross, so those sins could be washed away.  He was buried, but since he had committed no sin, the grave couldn’t hold him and on the third day he rose again.  This is the true Gospel of Jesus Christ.  I know these things to be true because I have met God and have a relationship with Him and an experience in Him that some actor isn’t going to change.  I know that the King James Version of the Bible is THE Word of God to the English speaking world in our times.  Everything must be judged according to it.  If it doesn’t fit in with the KJV, then there is something wrong with it, not the Bible.  These are a few things I KNOW and even the threat of death couldn’t make me disbelieve.  There is no threat that can take away the experience that God gave me, because I know it happened.  It happened to me.  I was there.  So, why would I care about this movie?

Remember, the Good Book says, “If something is wicked, don’t look at it.”

I really like having people come here and visit, it seems a shame, sometimes, that I don’t update as often as I should.  I could probably build up a nice little audience even if I only posted something every couple of days or so.  I apologize.  As many of you know, it was one of my resolutions to keep this blog updated.  I feel bad about it, doesn’t that count for something?

I say I feel bad, but I have to add a caveat, which I have said many times before, there are some things in life that are more important than blogging.  That is NOT meant to say that there are things more important than you guys, my fans, friends, fiends, foes and frenemies.  Life just gets overwhelming on occasion and cannot always be answered by a simple “42.”  I do know, however, that many of you are interested in what I have to say and what is going on with me, so I will give you the rundown.

I found out this week that my mom has stage IV Indolent Follicular Lymphoma.  Cancer.  Due to a veritable plethora of other health issues the doctor doesn’t think chemotherapy is a good choice.  In fact, it could actually make it worse.  He has prescribed hospice/home comfort care for her.  She sent us some notes the doctor gave her to help her explain her condition (she’s not real good at explaining some things) and he doesn’t actually give a length of time she has.  I have been told that they only use the word “hospice” if there are six months or less, however, my dad said that she might have two to maybe four years.  Her church is buying them plane tickets to come out and visit so they can see Savannah again and meet Douglas for the first time.  This is very generous on their part for several reasons, but the pastor said that since they have been members there for thirty years he felt like this was something they could do.  They are a small congregation and don’t have a lot of money, so this is genuinely magnanimous on their part.

But there is not only bad news.  Abigail has straight A’s and A-plusses on her grades without finals.  She won an award in one of the math classes and earned a letter for academics!  (Contrast this with me, who was not even aware there was such a thing as a letter in academics.)  Tabitha’s achievements are not as easy to quantify since she is home-schooled and her curriculum does not allow her to get below an 80% in anything.  She is kind of shy anyway and doesn’t mind that her sister gets the spotlight.  She’s happy and excited for her.

We got a puppy.  It’s a pure-bred miniature poodle named “Boston Blacky” after a character on the old-time radio shows.  He and Savannah get along excellently.  I have never been a fan of small dogs, but this guy is starting to really show some personality.  He also gets along with the cats.  Bagheera, who was never able to come upstairs when Snoopy was indoors now roams the house with impunity, Fraidy Cat has a more or less laissez-faire attitude toward him, Fee-Foe tolerates him as long as he recognizes that she is the queen, but the most amazing thing to me is how him and Cookie get along.  Cookie is our full-bred La-Perm cat.  They are curly-haired, but not bred or descended from any of the other curly-haired cats; rather they are descended from some barn cats with a strange gene.  I mention all this because I think her pedigree influences her temperament and behavior.

I have never seen a dog and cat play together before.  One will tag the other and they will take turns chasing each other.  Then they wrestle like two puppies or two kittens!  They really like to play with each other.  It is amazing.

I have a couple of issues that I kind of want to write about, but really don’t want to jump in full-steam ahead, just yet.  I have decided to steal Rambling-Rose’s term and call the people who are here against the law, “Trespassers.”  Since trespassing is a crime, calling them “Illegal Trespassers” seemed like fodder for the U.S. Government Bureau of Repetitious Redundancy Department of Repetitive Phrases Agency, but the truth is, if you are somewhere illegally, you are trespassing.  If you want to live here so bad, then you have to learn our laws and language and culture.  I have some friends who own a Mexican restaurant downtown who did not participate in the walkout.  “We’re Americans.  We have a business to run and as far as I’m concerned, if you don’t show up for work on Monday, don’t bother coming in Tuesday, either.”  This is an older couple who have worked hard to obey the law and do what’s right.

You do not have to give up your culture or language, just learn ours.  When my Great-Grandfather was in the German Army, he disagreed with the Kaiser’s politics so he saved every bit of his money and when he went on furlough he booked passage on a sailing ship to come to America.  He had to learn to speak English, but he was a hard worker and while he never became as rich as he had been told, he was able to start a farm in southeastern Wisconsin.  If you moved to some other country, e.g., say Barbara Streisand were to actually keep her promise and make the majority of Americans happy by moving to, oh, some distant island, she would have to learn their language and customs and they wouldn’t care that she was a celebrity here.  As I mentioned in a different entry, this country is made up of nothing but immigrants, refugees or their descendants.  But they came here legally and didn’t trespass.  I also believe that employers who hire these people should be tracked down and punished to the fullest extent of the law, whether they are a two-bit landscaping operation or a major big-box chain.

Another issue I want to address is the homogenization of the two-party system.  As the Republicans (generally speaking, “my” party) have gained control they seem to have lost the convictions and beliefs they preached so heartily to get elected.  Like their counterparts, they have tasted power and if they are not careful their party will be hijacked by Leftist Loonies, too.  It can and is happening already.  And just like the Donkey party only has a few moderate, intellectually honest, voices like Joe Lieberman (too bad Zel Miller retired), the Elephants will only have a few truly conservative voices, not realizing that it was their alleged conservative values that made up the “red-stater’s” minds.  You watch though, any party, the next time they have a midnight session to vote on whether to increase their own pay or not, I bet it’s a hundred to zero.  They’ll all agree on that.

We celebrated our pastor’s thirtieth pastoral anniversary this weekend.  This is an amazing thing in these times, especially finding someone who still believes in, preaches and teaches the same things he did when he started out.  A lot of churches (not only in our organization, but everywhere) have stopped preaching so hard as they used to because they are afraid they won’t get any converts or keep the big tithe-payers.  Pastor J is not that way.  His old-fashioned preaching against sin, loving people and helping them still works.  He and his wife started out over on the West Side of Colorado Springs at 2500 Busch avenue with 30 voting members, 22 of whom voted for them, to where we are today, approximately 500 people.  Old-fashioned prayer and preaching were the keys.  When we came back to church 18 years ago, he was still preaching the same teachings we had learned as children.  Consistency of conviction.  Maybe just having real convictions instead of thinking you have a conviction.  A conviction is a core belief that is so ingrained in you that even the threat of death or worse couldn’t change your mind.  You know a thing is true so thoroughly that there is no other way you could see it, even if you wanted to.

Anyway, I have great love and respect for the man and honor him deeply.  I wish everyone could get to know him and what he is like.  He is not a hard or harsh man, but rather is a kind and gentle man who is loved by kids and horses.

Okay, I am going to post this now before it gets too late.  Thanks to all of you for stopping by.

Remember, the Good Book says, “The fear of the LORD is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death.”

The IED from hell

Thu, Apr 13, 2006 at 6:47 AM

Carter

To: Herb

massive f****** IED the other day,4 dead,one guy 30 per cent burns,but stable.All the XOs went to inspect it today after it got hauled back-OMG........2 130mm arty shells just blew it to f***

Thu, Apr 13, 2006 at 1:38 PM

Herb

To: Carter

Wow.  You were an acting XO?

Fri, Apr 14, 2006 at 1:09 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

yeah,told you that-been the XO for awhile now

Fri, Apr 14, 2006 at 3:53 AM

Herb Thiel

To: Carter

You didn't say what got blown up.  Hummer?

Fri, Apr 14, 2006 at 5:11 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

a bradley-it blew a huge hole in the floor of the crew compartment and killed the 2 JAFOs back there-the gunner was trapped,but the TC and driver made it out,although both were severely burned.We were looking at it,and  under the engine/tranny was a sheet of quarter inch steel,which held up-but it did'nt extend as far back as the JAFO seats-a couple hundred bucks in steel could have saved these guys-maybe.We're looking at local modifications our wrench elements can do to increase survivability.

Sun, Apr 16, 2006 at 1:21 PM 

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

we had the memorial service tonight for our dead.it got a bit intense.

Tue, Apr 18, 2006 at 4:39 AM

Herb Thiel

To: Carter

I'm sorry.

Wed, Apr 19, 2006 at 12:46 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

another guy KIA yesterday.  it was the commander of Alpo Troop-they got him with an EFP-explosive fired projectile-a new twist on IEDs-sort of an improvised disposable cannon,firing a length of steeel rod that will penetrate the armor on the guntrucks.It breached the armor and went through his helmet.I went out yesterday,down to the town of Saba al boor,which was where our guys were killed in the other IED last week.It was uneventful,other than getting stuck in a traffic jam on the Baghdad freeway....

Fri, Apr 21, 2006 at 4:02 AM

Herb

To: carter

That's sick.

Fri, Apr 21, 2006 at 1:20 PM

Carter

To: Herb

the EFP or the traffic jam?

Sat, Apr 22, 2006 at 4:33 AM

Herb

To: carter

I was thinking about the EFP, but the traffic sounds bad, too.

Sat, Apr 22, 2006 at 6:38 AM

Carter

To: Herb

alpo troop got hit by mortar fire today-5 WIAs,but no dead-and they caught 2 bad guys-the trunk of their car was chock full of IED components

Sun, Apr 23, 2006 at 5:51 AM

Herb

To: carter

HWere do the get that stuff?

Tue, Apr 25, 2006 at 11:37 AM

Carter

To: Herb

common household items-oh,had some first hand expewrience with an IED today....

Wed, Apr 26, 2006 at 3:23 AM

Herb

To: carter

You better be careful.  What happened.

Wed, Apr 26, 2006 at 8:24 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

I was om a missionwith the S-3,and was riding shotgun in the 3rd vehicle-went down a road,heard a big boom,and decided to test the flying abilities of an M1114 HUMVEE...blew us off the road,hit a culvert and were bouncing across a field before the truck stopped-I got everyone out of the truck and out on security(even though I was  like the 3rd ranking guy on the truck,with an american captain and Estonian major being aboard)-we looked for the triggerman to kill him,but did'nt see anyone.we waited for recovery assets and EOD to show up and waited forever....they finally showed up,along with a platoon of pissed off Estonian infantry to sweep the village looking for suspects.All five of us on the truck walked away with nothing more than bruises(well,I slopped dew all over myself when it went off,and ripped my pants).EOD said it was 2 artillery shells-one 130mm and one 152mm.they burrowed underneath the shoulder of the road and buried it,but buried it too deep,as we were just about on top of it when it went off,and the road and the dirt took most of the blast.

Thu, Apr 27, 2006 at 3:16 AM

Herb

To: carter

Well, thank God they didn't know how far to bury it.  I guess everybody's prayers for you are working, except that your still ugly.  Mind if I post that one, and the pics?  I only do if you say it's okay.  I don't want to mess up any security issues.

Thu, Apr 27, 2006 at 5:45 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

yeah,go ahead and post it-nothing in the pic that the insurgents don't know already.Just glad I walked away from it-CPT ***** has added leaving the wire to list of things like making coffee that I'm not supposed to do-and they're starting to refer to my coffee as "aggravated assault"

Wed, Apr 26, 2006 at 8:53 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

a couple pics after the IED yesterday-does'nt show the crater as well as I'd like,but you can still see it was a sizable blast

Thu, Apr 27, 2006 at 3:09 AM

Herb

To: carter

Wow!  How close were you?

Thu, Apr 27, 2006 at 6:01 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

right on top of it

Fri, Apr 28, 2006 at 3:45 AM

Herb

To: carter

Yeah, read the story later.  God's looking out for you!

Fri, Apr 28, 2006 at 8:34 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

I'm a member of the IED survivor club-and the weird thing is,I knew we would get hit that day,but was'nt afraid in the least-well,our PFC driver DID piss himself...but as the truck was flying through the air,I really was'nt too worried

Sat, Apr 29, 2006 at 3:35 AM

Herb

To: carter

Well, maybe God didn't want ya to die with that fin ya owe me still on yer conscience.

Sat, Apr 29, 2006 at 11:12 AM

Carter

To: Herb Thiel

uh,hello....YOU owe ME that fin-plus 30 altairian dollars and a cup of mus and a greaseburger and...............

Sat, Apr 29, 2006 at 2:48 PM

Herb Thiel

To: carter

No, you are confused.  You owe me the fin, 30 Altairian dollars and a beer milkshake.  Since I quit drinkin' you kin have that.

And that was how my buddy Carter almost got himself blown up.  Some people will do anything to get out of payin’ ya back, won’t they?

Florence Nightengale  May 12, 1820 - August 13, 1910

When Florence was 24 years old, she had a "calling" from God. She wrote in her journal, "God spoke to me and called me to His service." Florence decided her calling was to help the sick and the poor by becoming a nurse.

You can read more about Florence Nightengale at the Florence Nightingale Museum http://www.florence-nightingale.co.uk/index.htm

The Florence Nightingale Pledge:

“I solemnly pledge myself before God and in the presence of this assembly, to pass my life in purity and to practice my profession faithfully. I will abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous, and will not take or knowingly administer any harmful drug. I will do all in my power to maintain and elevate the standard of my profession, and will hold in confidence all personal matters committed to my keeping and all family affairs coming to my knowledge in the practice of my calling. With loyalty will I endeavor to aid the physician, in his work, and devote myself to the welfare of those committed to my care.”

National Nurse’s Week is May 6^th thru the 12^th.  These are the heroic souls that aid doctors everywhere in everything, dispensing caring and emotional help along with medicines.

These heroic women and men who aid the doctors also have assistants.  Certified Nurse Assistants are the unsung heroes of the medical profession.  CNAs are the ones who do the real dirty work and this is what Margaret does every day, as if being married to me isn’t a big enough challenge.

The website “Nursing Assistant Central” http://www.nursingassistantcentral.homestead.com/ says,

“Being a Nursing Assistant is not for everyone, and nursing facilities have been experiencing difficulty over the last few years attracting and retaining caring, qualified individuals. The pay scale isn't always up to par for the work expected of Nursing Assistants. More often than not, C.N.A.'s work short staffed, decreasing the quality of care that patients receive while at the same time presenting a safety hazard to both staff and patients alike. The need for quality caregivers has become an important issue, and at times a problem, for healthcare facilities. Nationwide, this country has experienced somewhat of a crisis in the area of the direct-caregiving field. As the number of nursing homes continues to increase, it is an unfortunate fact that the caregiving field has been lagging in numbers. The turnover rate for Nursing Assistants is phenomenal…”

Margaret really doesn’t like to be in the spotlight and I don’t write about her very often, but she is a genuine heroine.  She is a home health care CNA.  People who, not very long ago, even in this country, would have had to live in a nursing home or hospital or, in some cases, hospice, can stay at home with their families, friends and loved ones directly because of her.  There are adults and children right here in Colorado Springs, Colorado who live better lives and in some cases just stay alive, because she is there.

One reason I don’t write much about her is that she has all of the office politics from three different offices to deal with as well as the nurses she “assists.”  I put “assists” in quotations because many times (with a few notable exceptions) she is the one who does the work every day and the nurse (I say again, there are notable exceptions) just comes around every couple of weeks to make sure she still knows how to do her job.

Another of the reasons I seldom write about her is that I cannot tell most of the stories that I have heard because of her patient’s (they call them “clients” in the biz, I guess it must sound more positive) right to privacy.  People that are in common could potentially connect the dots and figure out who the person is and what their medical situation is.  Besides, a lot of the time her job is too gross for me.  She and the daughter-in-law, who is also a CNA, start talking shop and I am out of there.  I guess that’s my point.  I couldn’t do it.  A lot of other people couldn’t/wouldn’t do it, but she can.

A quadriplegic person confidently wheeling around in their wheelchair.

A little old lady in her 90’s or 100’s that still lives at home.

A teenage girl with cerebral palsy that has only rudimentary control of limbs and bowels.

The child of a crack-head mother who lives with his brain unevenly built.

Parents of children with problems I can’t pronounce who were told by the Dutch government that if they weren’t US citizens (That means something!  Let’s don’t allow criminals to cheapen the value of it.) They would “euthanize a child like that” (Actual quote) and they better just go to the American hospital in Germany.

I had heard the term, “Debilitating disease” but never really knew anything about it until I saw Multiple Sclerosis firsthand.

All of these people are able to stay with the people who love them and care for them and want them, or stay in the homes they have always lived in, (in some cases that they grew up in!) directly because of Margaret and people like her.

Do you know what “Autonomic Dysreflexia” is?  What the signs of it are and what will happen to a person if you don’t?

How about the proper way to prevent infection while administering a bed-bath?

A lot of you may have changed a baby, but what about the correct way to change a grown-up’s soiled diaper?  If they are uncooperative?  Become combative because they think you are trying to hurt them when you are taking off their nasty clothing because they have Alzheimer’s and are confused?

Empty a bedside commode?

What do you do to prevent contamination and infection if someone’s bodily substance, vomit, feces, urine, gets on you?

Did you know there’s a right way and wrong way to put on and take off rubber gloves, which have a wide variety of styles and uses?  (I like to blow them up and put them on my head and watch little kids eyes bug out, but that’s not a professional use.)

I have done a dismally poor job of bringing this thought to you; of explaining what an angel of light in a dark, dismal world some people are.  My usual candor is lacking because the subject, the things she does as part of her work every day, is pretty much all things I really don’t enjoy talking about, or thinking about having to do.  But if the Lord has me live past a hundred (only the good die young) and I have to have someone besides Margaret care for me, I hope I get someone who cares as much about how to do their job and be professional and caring at the same time as she does.

She is a REAL Hero!

Remember, The Good Book Says, “And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”