My most recent trip, #30 to St. Petersburg, was for the purpose of seeing the installation of $1,000,000 of monitors and newborn respirators in the ICU. Equipment which could have saved the life of my brother who died at age 3 hours.
We were supposed to have a ceremony with the governor, but I guess this didn't rise to the level of importance. We have decreased the level of infant mortality by half a percent by this program, but maybe that's not important to the powers that be. Altho I do read in the newspapers that they are concerned about their demography, where people are dying much faster than can be replaced. Probably saving the lives of infants doesn't figure in. Ah well.
The larger victory is we have encouraged the city government to begin to become interested in the survival of its own newborns. Those of us who are mothers instinctively get why this is urgent, for bureaucrats it takes a bit longer.
This victory is at some cost to the management. Mental health is most likely overrated. Hope it's worth it. [Good thing everything is calm and fine in my native country, that for example democracy and indeed the entire Constitutional government thingie is not at stake.] I've been doing this now for 11 years and estimate that my work has saved 3,000 lives.
I simply cannot grok this number and care to consider the children one at a time. We had an unusual case where the father was a cabinet minister in an Asian -stan where the nation was in civil unrest, we advanced the surgery in order to help their country. The first example I am aware of where we promoted a child above others for non-medical reasons [obviously excluding emergencies].
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
Life and death in Russia
You would think I am talking about the death today of former President Yeltsin. That would be wrong.
I am interested in the tens of thousands of newborns who will die this year because of lack of investment in neonatal congenital surgeons and the requisite ICU's.
Once I read someone trying to calm people down by saying If a baby dies in Russia does it matter? Well, actually, yes it does, very much. If this child dies from a congenital defect which is treatable by surgery, it matters very much indeed.
I have worked for the past eleven years to provide millions of dollars of supplies and equipment for the purpose of saving newborns who are born with a heart defect. Very often a simple surgery can save their little lives. It breaks my heart that those who have money do not choose to invest in their own newborns. They are beginning to, perhaps that must be enough.
We have new equipment from the city worth $1,000,000 for the ICU which is a miracle. And it would take another miracle for the city to acknowledge that human beings must take care of these newborns during and after surgery.
Russians are very big on new buildings and new equipment, with perhaps not such great followup with regard to staff and ongoing expenses. New buildings and equipment are very glamorous and if I may add an opportunity for some people to earn a percentage of the contract. Ongoing expenses for ICU nurses and surgeons are not glamorous but are yet essential.
It should be embarrassing to them that people from another country are buying suture thread for the hearts of their newborns. It should be embarrassing that we provide groceries for nurses and doctors who are paid starvation wages. I can hardly believe that professionals are willing to work under these conditions.
My reward, to see a month old girl recover from near death, day by day, and finally be discharged from the ICU. Thank you God! If I have had any small part in this I am grateful and humble.
Another curious story is our patient whose father is a cabinet minister in a country which I may not reveal, where there is civil unrest. He urged us to go ahead with the surgery for his child, so that he could return to his country and help with the political situation. We almost never interrupt the surgical schedule for anything non-medical, but this was quite compelling.
Nearly every time I go over there I am tempted to quit as the obstacles are just ridiculous. Then I look into the eyes of a tiny patient, or the hysterical mother or father, and feel that I do not have the luxury to quit. What if it would be my child? They need me and the help that our organization can provide. I must go on, what choice do I have?
I am interested in the tens of thousands of newborns who will die this year because of lack of investment in neonatal congenital surgeons and the requisite ICU's.
Once I read someone trying to calm people down by saying If a baby dies in Russia does it matter? Well, actually, yes it does, very much. If this child dies from a congenital defect which is treatable by surgery, it matters very much indeed.
I have worked for the past eleven years to provide millions of dollars of supplies and equipment for the purpose of saving newborns who are born with a heart defect. Very often a simple surgery can save their little lives. It breaks my heart that those who have money do not choose to invest in their own newborns. They are beginning to, perhaps that must be enough.
We have new equipment from the city worth $1,000,000 for the ICU which is a miracle. And it would take another miracle for the city to acknowledge that human beings must take care of these newborns during and after surgery.
Russians are very big on new buildings and new equipment, with perhaps not such great followup with regard to staff and ongoing expenses. New buildings and equipment are very glamorous and if I may add an opportunity for some people to earn a percentage of the contract. Ongoing expenses for ICU nurses and surgeons are not glamorous but are yet essential.
It should be embarrassing to them that people from another country are buying suture thread for the hearts of their newborns. It should be embarrassing that we provide groceries for nurses and doctors who are paid starvation wages. I can hardly believe that professionals are willing to work under these conditions.
My reward, to see a month old girl recover from near death, day by day, and finally be discharged from the ICU. Thank you God! If I have had any small part in this I am grateful and humble.
Another curious story is our patient whose father is a cabinet minister in a country which I may not reveal, where there is civil unrest. He urged us to go ahead with the surgery for his child, so that he could return to his country and help with the political situation. We almost never interrupt the surgical schedule for anything non-medical, but this was quite compelling.
Nearly every time I go over there I am tempted to quit as the obstacles are just ridiculous. Then I look into the eyes of a tiny patient, or the hysterical mother or father, and feel that I do not have the luxury to quit. What if it would be my child? They need me and the help that our organization can provide. I must go on, what choice do I have?
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Gagarin and Vonnegut
Am working at the children's hospital in Russia. Two events of notice: the anniversary of Gagarin's flight into space and the death of Kurt Vonnegut, fellow Cornellian.
April 12, 1961: Yuri Gagarin is the first human in space. Headlines around the world.
Such is the power of propaganda that I was an adult before I realized John Glenn wasn’t the first to orbit the earth.
Man rises, man falls. Kurt Vonnegut finds a new existence somewhere in the universe. I hope he's having a cool time joking around with Mark Twain.
Consider this: the same university produced Vonnegut, Olbermann, and egregious.
I won’t believe Vonnegut’s dead until he comes and tells me personally.
Speaking of life and death, today we saved the life of a premie who is 2 days old and weighs 4 pounds. Tiny changes create enormous life and death consequences. Political analogy = blog issue du jour. Personally I'm in for the USA's scandal x93.
We were just talking about him yesterday wrt a Vonnegutian moment: once I signed for my own international Fedex package. Sent the package from the U.S., left for Russia a couple days later, went to the hospital, and opened the office door to see the Fedex guy with: my package.
My Russian colleagues had been permitted to read Vonnegut under Soviet times. Why? I asked, he is so subversive. Yes they explained, but he was viewed as anti-American. Somebody slipped that one by the censors.
And so it goes.
*******
April 12, 1961: Yuri Gagarin is the first human in space. Headlines around the world.
Such is the power of propaganda that I was an adult before I realized John Glenn wasn’t the first to orbit the earth.
Man rises, man falls. Kurt Vonnegut finds a new existence somewhere in the universe. I hope he's having a cool time joking around with Mark Twain.
Consider this: the same university produced Vonnegut, Olbermann, and egregious.
I won’t believe Vonnegut’s dead until he comes and tells me personally.
Speaking of life and death, today we saved the life of a premie who is 2 days old and weighs 4 pounds. Tiny changes create enormous life and death consequences. Political analogy = blog issue du jour. Personally I'm in for the USA's scandal x93.
We were just talking about him yesterday wrt a Vonnegutian moment: once I signed for my own international Fedex package. Sent the package from the U.S., left for Russia a couple days later, went to the hospital, and opened the office door to see the Fedex guy with: my package.
My Russian colleagues had been permitted to read Vonnegut under Soviet times. Why? I asked, he is so subversive. Yes they explained, but he was viewed as anti-American. Somebody slipped that one by the censors.
And so it goes.
*******
Monday, April 09, 2007
Hey from Russia
Written Easter Sunday
Hey from Russia. I was sitting at the window looking at two white horses and a carriage in the light April snow, enjoying my beef stroganoff and wifi, when the wifi went poof. I suppose all dreams must end at some point. But the horses are really cool.
We work tomorrow. Hope you guys had/are having a glorious Easter. Christianity is under assault not least from wingers that have a very odd interpretation of love your neighbor. Am trying to do the peacemaker thingie and it’s tough going. I feel I was called by God at an early age to do this work, and trust that He knows what He is doing.
The beauty of being mentally ill [not the phrase you hear every day] is that when regular life is difficult, you might as well do something really hard, because it’s not much different.
*******
Hey from Russia. I was sitting at the window looking at two white horses and a carriage in the light April snow, enjoying my beef stroganoff and wifi, when the wifi went poof. I suppose all dreams must end at some point. But the horses are really cool.
We work tomorrow. Hope you guys had/are having a glorious Easter. Christianity is under assault not least from wingers that have a very odd interpretation of love your neighbor. Am trying to do the peacemaker thingie and it’s tough going. I feel I was called by God at an early age to do this work, and trust that He knows what He is doing.
The beauty of being mentally ill [not the phrase you hear every day] is that when regular life is difficult, you might as well do something really hard, because it’s not much different.
*******
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Best friend moving: no April Fools
Stunned to learn that my best friend for many years will be moving to Chicago within the year. Excuse me, but no. It might very well be what is best for her and her family, but it is breaking my heart.
This friend has worked with me from the beginning 11 years ago to support our Russian children's hospital work. When I was considering who I wanted on my new board of directors, she was the first one. She has helped in myriad ways and has come over weekly to help support our work.
Support takes a variety of forms. In theory it is envelope stuffing, however the deeper work is listening to the president rant about the ridiculous, unfair, and evil obstacles to our work in Russia. She has endured a great many of these rants over the course of my thirty trips to St. Petersburg. How shall I prepare for future trips without this feedback?
We met thru our daughters' music and bonded over their teenage difficulties. We found out rather late in the game that both of us are amateur genealogists, active in her case and rather lapsed in my case after writing up 150 pages when the girls were little.
They moved to Hawai'i just at the time when things were becoming chaotic and intense with our work, when we were building a new ICU and planning a new operating room suite. I didn't realize how much I had depended on her for home baked goods and other symbolic forms of pre-trip support until she was away for two years. Hope the military appreciates what I gave up in the interim.
Now it seems I must prepare to lose her to the wider world again. There had better be planes between Washington and Chicago, that's all I can say. Email is good, phone calls are good, but there is nothing quite like the raised eyebrow in support of one's latest rant to feel that things will be all right, because my friend understands.
This friend has worked with me from the beginning 11 years ago to support our Russian children's hospital work. When I was considering who I wanted on my new board of directors, she was the first one. She has helped in myriad ways and has come over weekly to help support our work.
Support takes a variety of forms. In theory it is envelope stuffing, however the deeper work is listening to the president rant about the ridiculous, unfair, and evil obstacles to our work in Russia. She has endured a great many of these rants over the course of my thirty trips to St. Petersburg. How shall I prepare for future trips without this feedback?
We met thru our daughters' music and bonded over their teenage difficulties. We found out rather late in the game that both of us are amateur genealogists, active in her case and rather lapsed in my case after writing up 150 pages when the girls were little.
They moved to Hawai'i just at the time when things were becoming chaotic and intense with our work, when we were building a new ICU and planning a new operating room suite. I didn't realize how much I had depended on her for home baked goods and other symbolic forms of pre-trip support until she was away for two years. Hope the military appreciates what I gave up in the interim.
Now it seems I must prepare to lose her to the wider world again. There had better be planes between Washington and Chicago, that's all I can say. Email is good, phone calls are good, but there is nothing quite like the raised eyebrow in support of one's latest rant to feel that things will be all right, because my friend understands.
Friday, March 23, 2007
I am not a spy
I live in America and work in Russia. This has created high anxiety among those responsible for intelligence and counter-intelligence in both countries.
I’ve been investigated up the wazoo by the services of both countries. If either the Russians or the Americans wanted anything from me, they've had eleven years to figure out who I am and what I'm doing over there.
Worst was in the mid 90’s when nobody could figure out who the hell I was. Single person repeatedly traveling to Russia, not on the American list—hence suspect, and not on the Russian list—hence suspect. Just a humanitarian, it took several years for them to get their minds wrapped around that strange fact.
Every time there was a new list revealed---Ames, Hansen---I wasn't on it. Probably made my minders ever more insane. What was I doing at this Russian hospital. Surely I wasn't simply a humanitarian? Out of the question.
I accepted that I would be investigated [to this day, most likely] by the Russians. Why am I there. Well, on their national tv I said I was working to save the lives of children in Russia because I am a Christian, like their Orthodox Christians. Could that be a sufficient explanation? Of course not.
So they follow me, listen to my phone conversations, and demand explanations from every taxi driver. The good news is I have brought a large number of Russian taxi drivers to realize that things can be better by a concerted investment in their children's hospital.
On the American side, I have been followed and probed by a minimum of three intelligence organizations. At first I was angry, then I realized it meant we were sufficiently large and effective to draw the attention of such agencies. If I worked with one of them I would be investigating this organization. So that led to peace of mind.
One agency in Maryland sent a very junior person who was quite sweet and who was horrified at being forced to report on my very obviously humanitarian work.
One agency in Virginia sent a senior team with a trap that they thought was very clever, to ascertain if I was for real, but their charade collapsed when I confronted them with the knowledge that I knew they were investigating me, and if they wanted to know what I was doing, they could call my three most recent ministers in the Presbyterian Church. That was pretty much the end of their investigation.
One agency in a place I won't identify to be merciful to the person assigned to my case, sent an agent to an international conference to follow me and question me and my colleagues. It was truly amateur hour. I was embarrassed for my government. He questioned me in detail but in return had no knowledge about the subject of the conference. DUH PEOPLE can't we do better than that? Then I observed him following me, so I abruptly turned around and he panicked and zipped off in a different direction. I was insulted that I didn't deserve a more subtle agent. Oh well, the price of serving the poor in another country. My motives will probably always be suspect.
I hope that the intelligence agencies on both sides of the Atlantic have had sufficient opportunity over the last eleven years to investigate me and find disappointing results: I am just a humanitarian, trying to save the lives of newborns, and trying to work for peace between two countries that have long been enemies. How very unhappy they must be, the people who have been assigned to investigate me over the years. I'm sorry! Hope you find some good stuff on your other cases.
All in all, this has been a great burden on me which just piles on to my usual bipolar manic-depression and ADHD and OCD. What's one more issue? But the strange thing is, as my mental health improves, I am increasingly unwilling to accept these indignities, border problems, customs issues, intelligence investigations. Russia is improving, but my mental health is improving faster. It is a dangerous disconnect. Lives are at stake. Better to be sick and accept all these indignities as only what I deserve.
Got a better solution to save thousands of lives? I'm all ears.
*******
I’ve been investigated up the wazoo by the services of both countries. If either the Russians or the Americans wanted anything from me, they've had eleven years to figure out who I am and what I'm doing over there.
Worst was in the mid 90’s when nobody could figure out who the hell I was. Single person repeatedly traveling to Russia, not on the American list—hence suspect, and not on the Russian list—hence suspect. Just a humanitarian, it took several years for them to get their minds wrapped around that strange fact.
Every time there was a new list revealed---Ames, Hansen---I wasn't on it. Probably made my minders ever more insane. What was I doing at this Russian hospital. Surely I wasn't simply a humanitarian? Out of the question.
I accepted that I would be investigated [to this day, most likely] by the Russians. Why am I there. Well, on their national tv I said I was working to save the lives of children in Russia because I am a Christian, like their Orthodox Christians. Could that be a sufficient explanation? Of course not.
So they follow me, listen to my phone conversations, and demand explanations from every taxi driver. The good news is I have brought a large number of Russian taxi drivers to realize that things can be better by a concerted investment in their children's hospital.
On the American side, I have been followed and probed by a minimum of three intelligence organizations. At first I was angry, then I realized it meant we were sufficiently large and effective to draw the attention of such agencies. If I worked with one of them I would be investigating this organization. So that led to peace of mind.
One agency in Maryland sent a very junior person who was quite sweet and who was horrified at being forced to report on my very obviously humanitarian work.
One agency in Virginia sent a senior team with a trap that they thought was very clever, to ascertain if I was for real, but their charade collapsed when I confronted them with the knowledge that I knew they were investigating me, and if they wanted to know what I was doing, they could call my three most recent ministers in the Presbyterian Church. That was pretty much the end of their investigation.
One agency in a place I won't identify to be merciful to the person assigned to my case, sent an agent to an international conference to follow me and question me and my colleagues. It was truly amateur hour. I was embarrassed for my government. He questioned me in detail but in return had no knowledge about the subject of the conference. DUH PEOPLE can't we do better than that? Then I observed him following me, so I abruptly turned around and he panicked and zipped off in a different direction. I was insulted that I didn't deserve a more subtle agent. Oh well, the price of serving the poor in another country. My motives will probably always be suspect.
I hope that the intelligence agencies on both sides of the Atlantic have had sufficient opportunity over the last eleven years to investigate me and find disappointing results: I am just a humanitarian, trying to save the lives of newborns, and trying to work for peace between two countries that have long been enemies. How very unhappy they must be, the people who have been assigned to investigate me over the years. I'm sorry! Hope you find some good stuff on your other cases.
All in all, this has been a great burden on me which just piles on to my usual bipolar manic-depression and ADHD and OCD. What's one more issue? But the strange thing is, as my mental health improves, I am increasingly unwilling to accept these indignities, border problems, customs issues, intelligence investigations. Russia is improving, but my mental health is improving faster. It is a dangerous disconnect. Lives are at stake. Better to be sick and accept all these indignities as only what I deserve.
Got a better solution to save thousands of lives? I'm all ears.
*******
Monday, March 19, 2007
Music --- The Road Not Taken
Once upon a time, in a land far, far, away --- ok Middletown, Ohio --- I was destined to be a musician.
On piano I could sightread nearly anything written before 1920 and played with abandon. I took flute lessons from a man in the Cincinnati Symphony, wonderful person who corrected my mistakes not by criticism, but by saying I could do better.
My piccolo, a Christmas present, carried me thru high school and college and all the way to Carnegie Hall and Kennedy Center. The Washington Post said our [Cornell] symphony played better than the local orchestra. Probably this was due to the deficiencies of the National Symphony rather than anything stellar about us.
Our director, Karel Husa of Czechoslovakia, was quite tempermental. I forgave him his tantrums because they were always in the service of superior music. He won the Pulitzer Prize just as I began college. One of my favorite memories of him was our walking toward Carnegie Hall for our concert there in '73. I ran up to him and asked the famous joke question, How do you get to Carnegie Hall? And he shook his head, "I don't know." I had to explain the joke.
At my 40th birthday I examined my Dream List and decided to go for at least one major dream. It was singing lessons, which I did for three years and had some small roles at church.
For fun I taught myself how to play organ and became the emergency backup organist at church. This was a long way from being a child who came close to the organ at church and was sharply scolded DON'T TOUCH THAT, she didn't know or didn't care that I was a piano virtuoso, and it was another 30 years until I played organ for real. But what a pleasure to learn. I play with bare feet, to the great amusement of the children in the choirs.
I simultaneously began composing music for voice and piano with 15 or so copyrights. I'm especially proud of one piece which is original music and lyrics about depression, asking God if He has forgotten me. For giving back to the community I was the accompanist for children's choirs at church and at the local elementary school, and was the treasurer for the middle school band for nearly a decade, even after my children had graduated.
Each of my three children performed at the Kennedy Center in separate events. I fear to add up the number of music lessons they had. One learned to play numerous instruments and had perfect pitch. One took up my lovely instruments and performed at the national level. One took up both instrumental and vocal music and also had perfect pitch. Thank God for these amazing creatures.
It was a severe challenge to encourage my children to take up music, which was an integral part of my life, without demanding so much that they would simply quit. One of them could have been a prodigy but I refused to go that route, I know too many young people who were forced to play and quit it entirely later. How to encourage them enough to develop, without overwatering them.
So why didn't I become a musician? I struggled with this in high school and college. It was what made me happy, yet there were so many egregious problems in the world, I felt I needed to be involved in helping to find the solutions. One final turning point came when this lovely Czech conductor had me play a Rachmaninoff concerto with the Cornell symphony one night at rehearsal, bless his heart. After that I realized I needed to work for world peace more than I needed to play music.
I have often joked to my Russian medical colleagues that they should be grateful I didn't win the Tchaikovsky Prize in high school, else they would be struggling without my input. Music is the road not taken. It would have made me happy, but I chose to make others happy. In so doing I have helped to save 3,000 lives. Was it the right choice?
*******
On piano I could sightread nearly anything written before 1920 and played with abandon. I took flute lessons from a man in the Cincinnati Symphony, wonderful person who corrected my mistakes not by criticism, but by saying I could do better.
My piccolo, a Christmas present, carried me thru high school and college and all the way to Carnegie Hall and Kennedy Center. The Washington Post said our [Cornell] symphony played better than the local orchestra. Probably this was due to the deficiencies of the National Symphony rather than anything stellar about us.
Our director, Karel Husa of Czechoslovakia, was quite tempermental. I forgave him his tantrums because they were always in the service of superior music. He won the Pulitzer Prize just as I began college. One of my favorite memories of him was our walking toward Carnegie Hall for our concert there in '73. I ran up to him and asked the famous joke question, How do you get to Carnegie Hall? And he shook his head, "I don't know." I had to explain the joke.
At my 40th birthday I examined my Dream List and decided to go for at least one major dream. It was singing lessons, which I did for three years and had some small roles at church.
For fun I taught myself how to play organ and became the emergency backup organist at church. This was a long way from being a child who came close to the organ at church and was sharply scolded DON'T TOUCH THAT, she didn't know or didn't care that I was a piano virtuoso, and it was another 30 years until I played organ for real. But what a pleasure to learn. I play with bare feet, to the great amusement of the children in the choirs.
I simultaneously began composing music for voice and piano with 15 or so copyrights. I'm especially proud of one piece which is original music and lyrics about depression, asking God if He has forgotten me. For giving back to the community I was the accompanist for children's choirs at church and at the local elementary school, and was the treasurer for the middle school band for nearly a decade, even after my children had graduated.
Each of my three children performed at the Kennedy Center in separate events. I fear to add up the number of music lessons they had. One learned to play numerous instruments and had perfect pitch. One took up my lovely instruments and performed at the national level. One took up both instrumental and vocal music and also had perfect pitch. Thank God for these amazing creatures.
It was a severe challenge to encourage my children to take up music, which was an integral part of my life, without demanding so much that they would simply quit. One of them could have been a prodigy but I refused to go that route, I know too many young people who were forced to play and quit it entirely later. How to encourage them enough to develop, without overwatering them.
So why didn't I become a musician? I struggled with this in high school and college. It was what made me happy, yet there were so many egregious problems in the world, I felt I needed to be involved in helping to find the solutions. One final turning point came when this lovely Czech conductor had me play a Rachmaninoff concerto with the Cornell symphony one night at rehearsal, bless his heart. After that I realized I needed to work for world peace more than I needed to play music.
I have often joked to my Russian medical colleagues that they should be grateful I didn't win the Tchaikovsky Prize in high school, else they would be struggling without my input. Music is the road not taken. It would have made me happy, but I chose to make others happy. In so doing I have helped to save 3,000 lives. Was it the right choice?
*******
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
"Will Blog for Food"
When I showed up at Plamehouse for the first time, I carried a sign that said "Will Blog for Food." Little did I know how ironic this would turn out to be.
I've been thinking about the support structures that we need as our political involvement becomes more complex.
I trust you have read my post on Plamehouse where I had to beg them to consider eating, and finally take action on my own. After about an hour of hinting about dinner, including putting a sign saying WE NEED FOOD in front of Jane and Marcy, I had to take action myself and go forth in search of pizza.
Today I watched people laying utility lines for some unknown future near my house. Investing in capacity for future use.
My own aha moment came when ordering another AC adapter and power plug for my laptop. I'm frequently running from room to room, one where I often work, the other where I sometimes work and where the electric connections exist.
What I thot I was doing was ordering was a spare set for keeping in my travel bag, to save time and mental energy when packing for my frequent trips. Just as I was about to push "order" I had the idea---get another set. For the other room here. So for a small additional amount I have solved the running back and forth problem. I can now work and post from either room.
We need to think about administrative support, and it can be as elemental as feeding Jane and Marcy in DC. How can we put together the people who must work to the exclusion of thinking about things like food with the people who want to support that work.
*******
I've been thinking about the support structures that we need as our political involvement becomes more complex.
I trust you have read my post on Plamehouse where I had to beg them to consider eating, and finally take action on my own. After about an hour of hinting about dinner, including putting a sign saying WE NEED FOOD in front of Jane and Marcy, I had to take action myself and go forth in search of pizza.
Today I watched people laying utility lines for some unknown future near my house. Investing in capacity for future use.
My own aha moment came when ordering another AC adapter and power plug for my laptop. I'm frequently running from room to room, one where I often work, the other where I sometimes work and where the electric connections exist.
What I thot I was doing was ordering was a spare set for keeping in my travel bag, to save time and mental energy when packing for my frequent trips. Just as I was about to push "order" I had the idea---get another set. For the other room here. So for a small additional amount I have solved the running back and forth problem. I can now work and post from either room.
We need to think about administrative support, and it can be as elemental as feeding Jane and Marcy in DC. How can we put together the people who must work to the exclusion of thinking about things like food with the people who want to support that work.
*******
Monday, March 12, 2007
Happy Girl Scout Day!
Many of the survival and camping skills I learned were thru the Girl Scouts, which celebrate their 95th birthday today.
Juliette Gordon Low, known as Daisy, began with a handful of girls in Savannah, Georgia and the rest is history.
I always loved camp because it was with new girls, who did not yet know me as someone different and strange. It was a level playing field, everybody was a little different.
Does anybody learn survival skills today, unless their parents teach them or send them to Outward Bound programs? We learned to pitch a tent, construct shelter if necessary, dig a latrine, start a fire from next to nothing, purify water, and distinguish edible plants from those that would take your life. I am unlikely to need these in my current suburban life, but I'm glad to know how just in case.
Wonder what kinds of skills we will need for the upcoming generation? I had an opportunity to learn more about computers today, maybe that's more important than knowing how to build an emergency shelter. We will see.
Love and cookies, Girl Scout cookies today,
---------------egregious
*******
Juliette Gordon Low, known as Daisy, began with a handful of girls in Savannah, Georgia and the rest is history.
I always loved camp because it was with new girls, who did not yet know me as someone different and strange. It was a level playing field, everybody was a little different.
Does anybody learn survival skills today, unless their parents teach them or send them to Outward Bound programs? We learned to pitch a tent, construct shelter if necessary, dig a latrine, start a fire from next to nothing, purify water, and distinguish edible plants from those that would take your life. I am unlikely to need these in my current suburban life, but I'm glad to know how just in case.
Wonder what kinds of skills we will need for the upcoming generation? I had an opportunity to learn more about computers today, maybe that's more important than knowing how to build an emergency shelter. We will see.
Love and cookies, Girl Scout cookies today,
---------------egregious
*******
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Senator Webb on war and peace
Senator Webb [man, I just cannot stop smiling at that phrase] was great today on ABC This Week.
Let’s see if this link to the video will work. Ok looks good.
Democrats have pushed the administration into having serious diplomatic talks with the nations around Iraq.
Wounded are being severely undercounted in the official tally.
Backlog of 400,000 for transition to the VA system is part of the Walter Reed mess.
For Rayne—he says Levin is particularly effective on these issues.
He has a poker face when asked about being the VP nominee. I know his expressions pretty well, this is a question he’s obviously heard many times. He says he is enjoying being in the Senate and there is much to do.
Committees: Foreign Relations, Armed Services, Veterans Affairs
Both Armed Services and VA committees have had separate hearings and now there will be a joint hearing.
His take on the Libby trial: part of the overall politics of character assassination by Rove and others against anyone who criticizes the rush to war as he and Wilson both did.
It's so refreshing to see REAL LEADERSHIP in Washington. We have waited so long.
PS---Here's a link for all of Senator Webb's videos at his website.
*******
Let’s see if this link to the video will work. Ok looks good.
Democrats have pushed the administration into having serious diplomatic talks with the nations around Iraq.
Wounded are being severely undercounted in the official tally.
Backlog of 400,000 for transition to the VA system is part of the Walter Reed mess.
For Rayne—he says Levin is particularly effective on these issues.
He has a poker face when asked about being the VP nominee. I know his expressions pretty well, this is a question he’s obviously heard many times. He says he is enjoying being in the Senate and there is much to do.
Committees: Foreign Relations, Armed Services, Veterans Affairs
Both Armed Services and VA committees have had separate hearings and now there will be a joint hearing.
His take on the Libby trial: part of the overall politics of character assassination by Rove and others against anyone who criticizes the rush to war as he and Wilson both did.
It's so refreshing to see REAL LEADERSHIP in Washington. We have waited so long.
PS---Here's a link for all of Senator Webb's videos at his website.
*******
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Being brave
Well that was a short rest. I am congenitally unsuited for mental inactivity. If only that would extend to my exercise program....
I am thinking about small steps, about being brave and facing various obstacles, excuse me, various possible alternatives. Rather than blustering my way thru, which is the normal approach and the fastest, I am experimenting with trying to discover the dimensions of these intervening factors.
And speaking of dimensions, yesterday I took the plunge and got out the flexible tape measure for spring clothes buying. Sigh. Those numbers happen every year, I don't know why it's such a stunning surprise each time. But I set aside the entire day for shopping if necessary, to get things going.
I prefer to shop online, try things on in a quiet safe place, and then return the extras. In the middle of shopping, I called my credit card people and got a woman who said she does exactly the same, because she has a toddler. We had a pleasant chat about the horrors of noisy and crowded stores. Now see, if I hadn't faced that tape measure, I wouldn't have found a fellow store avoider.
Then the program to fit those lovely clothes involved getting out the door into the cold weather for a forest sanity walk. But it's cold! I like my couch. Fine. Out the door. Once I get going it's fine. I read somewhere that people with adhd have difficulty with transitions, that sounds right on the money.
I finished wrestling the previous day's computer problems with a victory. That took some courage, and some perseverence. My motivation is either on high or off. It's hard to find motivation for something in between, so this was a real victory.
The wellbutrin that I'm on does help with motivation, that moment of thinking about doing something interesting and actually beginning it. If that doesn't work then I just force myself, but after all these years I am becoming disenchanted with that as a reason to do things.
It's a great luxury to work independently and have the time to figure out how to do things right. It will be a great experiment.
I am thinking about small steps, about being brave and facing various obstacles, excuse me, various possible alternatives. Rather than blustering my way thru, which is the normal approach and the fastest, I am experimenting with trying to discover the dimensions of these intervening factors.
And speaking of dimensions, yesterday I took the plunge and got out the flexible tape measure for spring clothes buying. Sigh. Those numbers happen every year, I don't know why it's such a stunning surprise each time. But I set aside the entire day for shopping if necessary, to get things going.
I prefer to shop online, try things on in a quiet safe place, and then return the extras. In the middle of shopping, I called my credit card people and got a woman who said she does exactly the same, because she has a toddler. We had a pleasant chat about the horrors of noisy and crowded stores. Now see, if I hadn't faced that tape measure, I wouldn't have found a fellow store avoider.
Then the program to fit those lovely clothes involved getting out the door into the cold weather for a forest sanity walk. But it's cold! I like my couch. Fine. Out the door. Once I get going it's fine. I read somewhere that people with adhd have difficulty with transitions, that sounds right on the money.
I finished wrestling the previous day's computer problems with a victory. That took some courage, and some perseverence. My motivation is either on high or off. It's hard to find motivation for something in between, so this was a real victory.
The wellbutrin that I'm on does help with motivation, that moment of thinking about doing something interesting and actually beginning it. If that doesn't work then I just force myself, but after all these years I am becoming disenchanted with that as a reason to do things.
It's a great luxury to work independently and have the time to figure out how to do things right. It will be a great experiment.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Sabbatical: we all need time off
I am taking some time off to rest. I am exhausted from the trial, and quite honestly, still wiped out from the elections. I need to rest. It's not forever but I need to not do this for a while. But who knows, being bipolar, I'm sufficiently volatile that "a while" might only be a short time.
Looking around pretty much everybody who was involved with the trial is beyond operating on fumes and close to the edge. We have given our all and everyone now needs a rest.
The heading on this blog: "Lead. Follow. Support. Teach. Learn." I don't see any permission there to rest and reflect. Maybe that's part of the learning, or providing one's own support.
Thanks for your love, support, and much needed prayers for everyone involved with Plamehouse.
*******
Looking around pretty much everybody who was involved with the trial is beyond operating on fumes and close to the edge. We have given our all and everyone now needs a rest.
The heading on this blog: "Lead. Follow. Support. Teach. Learn." I don't see any permission there to rest and reflect. Maybe that's part of the learning, or providing one's own support.
Thanks for your love, support, and much needed prayers for everyone involved with Plamehouse.
*******
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