SILVER LINING

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Ever since the election I have been searching for it.

Now, I realize that all those people who voted against their own self-interest will now have to suffer through the next four years the same as I will. Only I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I wasn’t scammed, hoodwinked, had the wool pulled over my eyes, lied to, cheated, victimized and made a sucker.

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  NOT JUST TRUMP’s 

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inauguration that I urge boycotting tomorrow.

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We should boycott:

TV (other than non public channels which don’t carry news in any form),
Facebook,
Twitter, or
Tumbler.

This boycott is about all four branches of government that no longer serve the betterment of we the people.

That’s correct, the four branches: the executive, the legislative, the judicial and (the one not specifically cited other than in the first amendment) the fourth estate.

All four have failed us, the people.

The executive branch has failed to use all the powers at its disposal for us.

The legislative branch has failed to pass laws that were needed to get us out of the recession in a timely way and instead has focused in obstruction for political purposes.

The judicial branch has failed to uphold the constitution.

And most importantly, the fourth estate has failed to report the news choosing entertainment and ratings to factual reporting.

All four of these institutions live in their own bubbles. This boycott on the 20th of January 2017 is meant to burst those individual bubbles and let them know that we will no longer stand for their failures to carry out their respective constitutional jobs “in order to form a more perfect union”.

No elected official should leave their office richer than they entered.

No news agency should be reporting unconfirmed news or possible news in order to improve ratings and their bottom line.

Social media must address what their function is to be as part of the fourth estate. If they refuse to monitor what is published on their sites, then the federal government may need to provide guideline or enforce those that are already on the books.

This needs to be a shot across the bow. The citizens of this country arewho they must serve; not their donors or advertisers.

I urge all my fellow citizens to boycott all news related media tomorrow.

IT IS TIME!

Prophetic?

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Wonder Not

That I am what I am;

but rather

wonder that I am.

Hopefully 2017 will be my return to blogging on a regular basis. This year was major heart surgery as in: double bypass, two valves repaired, and electrical repair. That followed with an infection on the sternum at the surgery site that required rehospitalization for antibotics. Finally the wound healed in Mid December 2016.

In addition we sold our house, and are staying with our son until our new house is ready for occupancy.

… and the good news is….

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I knew I was in a hospital when I woke up because I had tubes in me everywhere, and I mean everywhere. The second thing was there was a doctor, a couple of nurses and my wife surrounding my bed.

“You’ve broken your hip.” the doctor announced with authority.

This time whatever pain killer they had me on preempted any smart ass remark, like “What was your first clue?”

“The bad news,” the doctor started.

Those three words knifed their way through my morphine induced fuzziness. My mind said “You kidding me. a broken hip is the good news.”

The doctor continued, “because you take Eliquis, the new blood thinner, for your heart; we need to wait at least forty-eight hours for the drug to be out of your system to make the surgery safe. If it were elective surgery we would wait a week.”

Having said that he handed me the button which controlled the intravenous morphine pump. “When you start to feel the onslaught of pain, push the button.”

I immediately pushed the button and continued to push it for forty-eight hours while I laid in the hospital bed waiting for surgery for my broken hip.

911

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“911”

“What’s your emergency?”

“My husband fell from a ladder and can’t get up. I think he broke his hip or leg.

“What’ s your location?.”

My wife has the phone on conference so that I can hear the conversation with the dispatcher. (we both know that otherwise one will have questions they thought the other should have asked and didn’t, and somehow both parties will feel abused.)

“Did he hit his head?”

“No, it’s not life threatening so you won’t have to come with sirens or anything.”.

(This no siren thing is most important to me. I hate the type of attention a siren brings in this community.)

No sooner was the no siren request out of my wife’s mouth than I could hear it in the far distance. Then closer and louder, and closer and louder, then silence at the gate and then finally one last blast of the siren as they came down our street.

From my excellent viewing angle on the concrete floor, I can see the ambulance parked, lights flashing at the end of the drive. And then nothing happens, just the ambulance lights flashing. I suspect the delay is for purely theatrical reasons and to give everyone a chance to get to their windows to see what’s happening.

Finally, they EMTs saunter up each with his bag and the questioning begins.

“Are you Mr. Foos?”

“Yep.”

“What happened?”

“Stepped off the ladder too soon.”

“Were you dizzy?”

“Nope.”

“Have you fallen in the last three months?”

“Nope.”

Ordinarily I might enjoy this stimulating game of twenty questions, but, I have been lying on this cold concrete floor for over a half an hour, and I would like some help.

“How far did you fall?”

“A couple of feet.”

“Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“Were you dizzy?”

“No.”

Next was the medical history which I’ll spare you just in case you’re lying on a cold, hard, concrete floor with an excruciatingly painful broken hip.

“Can you stand?”

I refuse to answer other than giving an “if looks could kill” glare.

“Can you slide onto the stretcher?”

Again, no answer but both wife and I are glaring.

“I guess we will use the pinchers then.”

“Pinchers?”

“We put one side of the stretcher, called a “pincher” on each side of you, attach the two sides and crank them together pinching you onto the stretcher.”

I was then duly pinched, jostled onto a gurney, rolled to the ambulance, bounced in, and locked in. That’s all I can remember of that journey. I suspect I passed out from the pain, or they gave me some kind of medication. I do remember that there were a lot more questions asked on the way to the hospital. Have no idea who answered them.