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].
Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts
Sunday, April 29, 2007
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.
*******
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.
*******
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.
Monday, February 05, 2007
The puzzle puzzle: solved!
Did you ever find an activity that just made you feel calm and happy? Ok other than THAT one :)
People with ADD and possibly OCD apparently find some peace by taking up activities with repetitive hand motions.
I am surprised by how many acquaintances used to knit during the Vietnam war, then let it lapse, then have recently taken knitting up again. Myself, I don't pretend to make anything fancy, just rectangles that could charitably be called scarves.
My new activity is a logic puzzle called Paint by numbers.* My sister found one book of these that she liked so much, she would erase the puzzles and do them again. Me: ok weird, but interesting.
*Eeeeek, my first successful link on this blog...
Then I found a magazine in the St. Petersburg airport, airside, mostly in Japanese with pithy sayings and salacious ads in Russian. Got one for my sister and as an afterthot one for me.
Well! Turns out it is very calming to quietly calculate which squares to fill in with pencil strokes. So I find myself hooked. It has helped me keep my sanity while waiting in airports, on long distance flights, and while enduring inevitable pauses in Plame trial news. [Go Jane, Christy, Marcy, Swopa, Pach, TRex!!]
So this time leaving St. Petersburg, following a troubled trip in terms of customs harrassment and being followed by strangers, I looked forward to buying another pair of puzzle magazines at the airport for Marilyn and me. Alas! The space where they had been was vacant, open for reconstruction. Ach du lieber. Went towards the departure gate and found the store in its new location. Hope springs eternal [not, hopespringsaturtle, one of the all-time great pennames].
Rustled thru my briefcase and pulled out the beloved puzzle magazine, Do you have this? She looked over at the magazine rack and said, Sorry. Ruh roh. Class C emergency. It doesn't really matter in the long haul, but still....
[Little travel joke about long haul. Guess you had to be there.]
So upon return to the USSA it was a priority to research this puzzle book. I thot I would have to contact either a Japanese or a Russian distributor to get the needed material.
New theory: maybe a general US puzzle magazine would have this, good thinking. I looked carefully at Games Magazine and found the gold at the end of the rainbow: the familiar pattern on the corner of the cover. Raced to google the name of the puzzle, and found many! books and magazines with diverse names:
Hanjie
O'ekaki
Crosspix
Paint by sudoku
Paint by number
Picross
Nonograms
Griddlers
VICTORY! So I ordered a set for my sister and a set for moi. Patiently waiting. Ok those of you that know me, not so patiently waiting.
I struggle to calm my hyperactive brain. It is a great blessing except when it isn't. Thots flying too fast. Scanning the universe in search of....? Anything I find to help calm me down, excluding alcohol, is on the list.
I drink so I don't become hysterical, and angry, and say something that would hurt someone. PLEASE GOD let the researchers find new drugs that will help people like me.
Puzzle not quite solved, after all.
People with ADD and possibly OCD apparently find some peace by taking up activities with repetitive hand motions.
I am surprised by how many acquaintances used to knit during the Vietnam war, then let it lapse, then have recently taken knitting up again. Myself, I don't pretend to make anything fancy, just rectangles that could charitably be called scarves.
My new activity is a logic puzzle called Paint by numbers.* My sister found one book of these that she liked so much, she would erase the puzzles and do them again. Me: ok weird, but interesting.
*Eeeeek, my first successful link on this blog...
Then I found a magazine in the St. Petersburg airport, airside, mostly in Japanese with pithy sayings and salacious ads in Russian. Got one for my sister and as an afterthot one for me.
Well! Turns out it is very calming to quietly calculate which squares to fill in with pencil strokes. So I find myself hooked. It has helped me keep my sanity while waiting in airports, on long distance flights, and while enduring inevitable pauses in Plame trial news. [Go Jane, Christy, Marcy, Swopa, Pach, TRex!!]
So this time leaving St. Petersburg, following a troubled trip in terms of customs harrassment and being followed by strangers, I looked forward to buying another pair of puzzle magazines at the airport for Marilyn and me. Alas! The space where they had been was vacant, open for reconstruction. Ach du lieber. Went towards the departure gate and found the store in its new location. Hope springs eternal [not, hopespringsaturtle, one of the all-time great pennames].
Rustled thru my briefcase and pulled out the beloved puzzle magazine, Do you have this? She looked over at the magazine rack and said, Sorry. Ruh roh. Class C emergency. It doesn't really matter in the long haul, but still....
[Little travel joke about long haul. Guess you had to be there.]
So upon return to the USSA it was a priority to research this puzzle book. I thot I would have to contact either a Japanese or a Russian distributor to get the needed material.
New theory: maybe a general US puzzle magazine would have this, good thinking. I looked carefully at Games Magazine and found the gold at the end of the rainbow: the familiar pattern on the corner of the cover. Raced to google the name of the puzzle, and found many! books and magazines with diverse names:
Hanjie
O'ekaki
Crosspix
Paint by sudoku
Paint by number
Picross
Nonograms
Griddlers
VICTORY! So I ordered a set for my sister and a set for moi. Patiently waiting. Ok those of you that know me, not so patiently waiting.
I struggle to calm my hyperactive brain. It is a great blessing except when it isn't. Thots flying too fast. Scanning the universe in search of....? Anything I find to help calm me down, excluding alcohol, is on the list.
I drink so I don't become hysterical, and angry, and say something that would hurt someone. PLEASE GOD let the researchers find new drugs that will help people like me.
Puzzle not quite solved, after all.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
I quit. Again.
why shdnt i just quit. they destroy my suitcase with supplies for THEIR newborns. they try to close our surgical unit because they see we are successful. strange people follow me. i hate this.
for some reason God asks me to work here. door is triple locked and my local contact will guard. but this is typical.
as my mental health improves i become less tolerant of indignities. as on my egrBlog profile i am perfect for this work being mentally ill because no one in their right mind wd do this.
i will wake up tomorrow, pick up my fired o’glake, and engage in battle once again. the 2 week old baby with transposition. blood from heart doesnt reach lungs for required oxygen. i find myself in surprising sympathy w this. need some oxygen myself.
thx for firedoglake love, i’ll be ok always have before just not so public except for last summer. apprec yr prayers. f*cking country.
for some reason God asks me to work here. door is triple locked and my local contact will guard. but this is typical.
as my mental health improves i become less tolerant of indignities. as on my egrBlog profile i am perfect for this work being mentally ill because no one in their right mind wd do this.
i will wake up tomorrow, pick up my fired o’glake, and engage in battle once again. the 2 week old baby with transposition. blood from heart doesnt reach lungs for required oxygen. i find myself in surprising sympathy w this. need some oxygen myself.
thx for firedoglake love, i’ll be ok always have before just not so public except for last summer. apprec yr prayers. f*cking country.
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