The drip, drip of revelations about the Bush/Cheney nightmare can become water torture at times.
I've watched a number of my blogmates at firedoglake become outraged today, as more is revealed about our abuse of Iraqi prisoners at Abu Ghraib.
Regulars making hot comments, people dredging up old spats and trying to gain points at the expense of others. The temptation, as with family violence, is to strike out at the nearest available target, someone nearby who has made you angry.
Unfortunately, that has us sniping at each other instead of focusing on the real problems.
There are guaranteed to be more revelations of scandal, corruption, incompetence, and deceit at the highest levels of government. It is our challenge to bring the temperature down and remain calm as these situations develop.
Let's stop the friendly fire. Hold your tempers. Cool it.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
I still don't know what I'm doing, but at a much higher level
Like an icebert calving, the political blog MyDD watching an important part of itself break away. Stoller and Bowers are leaving to start another progressive blog endeavor, and we wish them the best of luck.
They do have some ideas about where they are going, but I wonder if the more interesting part of their future is what is possible but unknown. The new group has some serious brainpower and experience, we are all just waiting to see what they are going to do. Perhaps they are wondering themselves.
When people ask me what I am going to do next in Russian medicine, I have a respectable answer. Train the next generation of congenital surgeons, bring the teaching and practice of cardiology and cardiac surgery into the correct century etc. But in fact, I don't really know yet.
A year ago on the occasion of our tenth anniversary at St. Petersburg Children's, they asked me to speak about the future. After the respectable answer came the real one:
A toast to our future! Whatever it may be.
They do have some ideas about where they are going, but I wonder if the more interesting part of their future is what is possible but unknown. The new group has some serious brainpower and experience, we are all just waiting to see what they are going to do. Perhaps they are wondering themselves.
When people ask me what I am going to do next in Russian medicine, I have a respectable answer. Train the next generation of congenital surgeons, bring the teaching and practice of cardiology and cardiac surgery into the correct century etc. But in fact, I don't really know yet.
A year ago on the occasion of our tenth anniversary at St. Petersburg Children's, they asked me to speak about the future. After the respectable answer came the real one:
[egregious:] When I first started, I didn't know what I was doing. Now I still don't know what I'm doing, but at a much higher level.
A toast to our future! Whatever it may be.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
I've met Libby. Do I hate him?
It might not surprise you to learn that I have highs and lows. Summer, and June in particular, is the season for frequent highs. When things are working well, this is euphoria, thank you God. Sometimes it is high anxiety but in any case is high energy. I try to focus this energy, of whatever form, into my work and my life.
On the occasion of Scooter Libby being remanded to prison, I find myself with mixed emotions. A human being is going to prison. A human being that I have seen in person at the trial, he passed by me several times, and looked at me in the courtroom several times, probably wondering which newspaper I write for. That would be firedoglake for the record. I believe we are the first bloggers to have official journalist credentials in a federal trial. It was my great privilege to be the emergency backup blogger in the courtroom and in the media room three times.
So do I hate this man? As a person, no. I tried to perceive whether there was something evil emanating from him. Answer: no. I don't think at heart he is an evil person. Yet, just as with John Hannah, I must keep in mind that their actions helped send our nation into a war of aggression based on lies, which they helped spread, a war which has killed 3,500 young Americans and blown off arms and legs of 20,000 more and created tens of thousands of post traumatic stress disorder patients who, along with their families, will likely suffer for decades. Hard to see this when looking at him.
For the record, there are people I perceive as being fundamentally evil [not entirely, thank you Quaker ancestors] and there are a small number of people that I hate. What does it mean to hate? That you wish hell upon them. I think I hate the man who carjacked and killed musician Dale Fredericks, Marine Band trombone player, because my own brother played trombone in another service band and it could just as easily have been him. Hate is bad for the soul. I try to move beyond it.
So this human Scooter Libby, that I do not hate, has been told he will be sent to prison, unless his desperate appeals work. Legally he has scant grounds for an appeal. Politically, it may be that people at a high enough level of power will never be sent to prison. But for now, it does seem that there will be justice. My father used to say, as he went off to work at his law office, "Do justice, love mercy. Well, one out of two." It is always harsh to send a human being to confinement. But so many people have worked to bring this case forward, to ensure that justice be done in spite of the power and privilege of the defendant. We rejoice today that our legal system while fragile is still working.
I also had the pleasure of meeting two people today, one at work and one at home. We tend to go in circles thinking that what we have is what will always be, instead of considering that something new and wonderful might come our way. My younger daughter is fond of advocating that we need to look up more often. She means literally up, as in trees and birds and sky and stars, but I think it works metaphorically as well. Let us look up for what is good, what is new, what is next.
*******
On the occasion of Scooter Libby being remanded to prison, I find myself with mixed emotions. A human being is going to prison. A human being that I have seen in person at the trial, he passed by me several times, and looked at me in the courtroom several times, probably wondering which newspaper I write for. That would be firedoglake for the record. I believe we are the first bloggers to have official journalist credentials in a federal trial. It was my great privilege to be the emergency backup blogger in the courtroom and in the media room three times.
So do I hate this man? As a person, no. I tried to perceive whether there was something evil emanating from him. Answer: no. I don't think at heart he is an evil person. Yet, just as with John Hannah, I must keep in mind that their actions helped send our nation into a war of aggression based on lies, which they helped spread, a war which has killed 3,500 young Americans and blown off arms and legs of 20,000 more and created tens of thousands of post traumatic stress disorder patients who, along with their families, will likely suffer for decades. Hard to see this when looking at him.
For the record, there are people I perceive as being fundamentally evil [not entirely, thank you Quaker ancestors] and there are a small number of people that I hate. What does it mean to hate? That you wish hell upon them. I think I hate the man who carjacked and killed musician Dale Fredericks, Marine Band trombone player, because my own brother played trombone in another service band and it could just as easily have been him. Hate is bad for the soul. I try to move beyond it.
So this human Scooter Libby, that I do not hate, has been told he will be sent to prison, unless his desperate appeals work. Legally he has scant grounds for an appeal. Politically, it may be that people at a high enough level of power will never be sent to prison. But for now, it does seem that there will be justice. My father used to say, as he went off to work at his law office, "Do justice, love mercy. Well, one out of two." It is always harsh to send a human being to confinement. But so many people have worked to bring this case forward, to ensure that justice be done in spite of the power and privilege of the defendant. We rejoice today that our legal system while fragile is still working.
I also had the pleasure of meeting two people today, one at work and one at home. We tend to go in circles thinking that what we have is what will always be, instead of considering that something new and wonderful might come our way. My younger daughter is fond of advocating that we need to look up more often. She means literally up, as in trees and birds and sky and stars, but I think it works metaphorically as well. Let us look up for what is good, what is new, what is next.
*******
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
mcEgregious learns the Mac
It might not surprise you to learn, after hearing me rave about all things Scottish with the possible exception of haggis [sorry Marcy], that I am a Mc. This weekend I had the opportunity to learn about another kind of mac.
Learning to use a new computer, a new operating system, and new software during a work emergency should be a breeze right? It worked out in an unexpected way. Story of my life.
I started work as usual at 7 in the morning. That alone should be enough to alarm family and friends, since historically and until very recently I was quite the night owl, working til 2am not uncommon.
At a critical moment I couldn't access my files. Good old microsoft IE at its best. Yes, I was going to have to get up to speed immediately on the new mac, which had been slowly assembled and tested over a couple of weeks. I'm not against technology, I just want to understand things in depth before allowing them into my life. Is that so unreasonable?
The good news is that both my working partner and my best friend are mac people. They have beenbeating on me encouraging me for months to come over to the Light. I finally purchased one when my 5 year old thinkpad developed vertical lines so wide I couldn't always read what was on the screen. These two people saved me and my work from chaos.
After four hours of tutorial, I was ready to fly solo. Good thing, because the work situation was imploding. Don't know what I would have done without the mac. It ended up being a 15 hour work day, if you count the morning lessons, but that's ok. It all worked out, and time off can be put off for another time. I do notice how it rarely is that other time...hm....
Takehome message: yay friends and coworkers. Thank you.
Learning to use a new computer, a new operating system, and new software during a work emergency should be a breeze right? It worked out in an unexpected way. Story of my life.
I started work as usual at 7 in the morning. That alone should be enough to alarm family and friends, since historically and until very recently I was quite the night owl, working til 2am not uncommon.
At a critical moment I couldn't access my files. Good old microsoft IE at its best. Yes, I was going to have to get up to speed immediately on the new mac, which had been slowly assembled and tested over a couple of weeks. I'm not against technology, I just want to understand things in depth before allowing them into my life. Is that so unreasonable?
The good news is that both my working partner and my best friend are mac people. They have been
After four hours of tutorial, I was ready to fly solo. Good thing, because the work situation was imploding. Don't know what I would have done without the mac. It ended up being a 15 hour work day, if you count the morning lessons, but that's ok. It all worked out, and time off can be put off for another time. I do notice how it rarely is that other time...hm....
Takehome message: yay friends and coworkers. Thank you.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
"No You Can't Vote Here"
Ready to do my civic duty and vote today, I set off for my regular polling place only to find there was nobody there. We vote in the local elementary schools, so I asked the secretary if maybe the polls had closed early or something.
Sec: "No, you can't vote here, they only have a few places open today."
Me: "But it's the Democratic primary and this is my official legal voting place."
Sec: "Well they only have a few places open during these minor elections."
Me in bubble over my head, thinking: "A year ago was the primary where Webb defeated Miller. That was a total mob scene. Minor elections??"
Me, politely: "Do you happen to know where I -can- vote, then?"
Sec: "Let me see if I can get someone on the phone."
This was interrupted by a mom who came to pick up an injured child and I decided that was a vastly more important use of the secretary's time. Thanking her, I left and drove home in quite a huff. My time wasted, my inclination to participate in elections thwarted.
The candidate I wished to vote for had urged me to vote on June 12 and provided a web link to where the polling places were. Something was wrong here. A phone call to the campaign predictably got the answering maching, they of course were out working.
As I was dialing the State Board of Elections to ask about the situation, a tiny little light went on over my head. [the aforementioned bubble had gone away.] What if this was not, in fact, my candidate?
Needed to marshall the facts. Ok candidate literature which had cruelly taken me away from my couch and blog in order to do my civic duty. Checked to see which district: yes, the xy-th district. That's mine. Then checked to see who the incumbent was. Say WHAT? He's in a different place, one town over.
Turns out I had not read the campaign literature very carefully. I do in fact live in the xy district: for the state senate. Said candidate is running in the same numbered district: for the state house. Headsmack.
After being sufficiently bewildered, I had to admit the joke was on me. For this is one of my most favorite categories of mistakes [which I collect]: insufficient separation of the variables.
For a few minutes I had a taste of what many Americans of color experience when they try to vote: "No, you can't vote here." It was a moment I will remember when working for electoral reform in the future.
If I as an educated, politically aware [HA!] suburban voter couldn't keep things straight, I feel sorry for those with less time to figure out the truth from the lies in the pamphlets that tell them they can't vote either. Is this any way to run a country?
Sec: "No, you can't vote here, they only have a few places open today."
Me: "But it's the Democratic primary and this is my official legal voting place."
Sec: "Well they only have a few places open during these minor elections."
Me in bubble over my head, thinking: "A year ago was the primary where Webb defeated Miller. That was a total mob scene. Minor elections??"
Me, politely: "Do you happen to know where I -can- vote, then?"
Sec: "Let me see if I can get someone on the phone."
This was interrupted by a mom who came to pick up an injured child and I decided that was a vastly more important use of the secretary's time. Thanking her, I left and drove home in quite a huff. My time wasted, my inclination to participate in elections thwarted.
The candidate I wished to vote for had urged me to vote on June 12 and provided a web link to where the polling places were. Something was wrong here. A phone call to the campaign predictably got the answering maching, they of course were out working.
As I was dialing the State Board of Elections to ask about the situation, a tiny little light went on over my head. [the aforementioned bubble had gone away.] What if this was not, in fact, my candidate?
Needed to marshall the facts. Ok candidate literature which had cruelly taken me away from my couch and blog in order to do my civic duty. Checked to see which district: yes, the xy-th district. That's mine. Then checked to see who the incumbent was. Say WHAT? He's in a different place, one town over.
Turns out I had not read the campaign literature very carefully. I do in fact live in the xy district: for the state senate. Said candidate is running in the same numbered district: for the state house. Headsmack.
After being sufficiently bewildered, I had to admit the joke was on me. For this is one of my most favorite categories of mistakes [which I collect]: insufficient separation of the variables.
For a few minutes I had a taste of what many Americans of color experience when they try to vote: "No, you can't vote here." It was a moment I will remember when working for electoral reform in the future.
If I as an educated, politically aware [HA!] suburban voter couldn't keep things straight, I feel sorry for those with less time to figure out the truth from the lies in the pamphlets that tell them they can't vote either. Is this any way to run a country?
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
My brother's birth and death day
May 29, 1950, my brother's birth day. And his death day. He lived to be 3 hours. In those days they took the baby away from the mother immediately, she never got to hold him, and she never knew what happened to him. I found where he was buried and got his death certificate decades later. This is a child who was born alive who was simply taken away. But he shaped my destiny.
Surely my work at the St. Petersburg Children's Hospital has multiple reasons for its existence. I was raised as a Christian to "love your enemies" and no one could be more our enemy than the Soviet Union, whose stated goal was that they would bury us. We thought there would be World War III and that few would survive.
And when I talk about love, here is what I mean. When my Dad was a child he wrote a letter to Santa that was printed in the Middletown [Ohio] Journal:
"I am six years old and live at 604 Mary Etta street. You may fill my stocking if you have anything left after you visit the little boys and girls who do not have toys."
This is the definition of love in our family. Dad would give you the grocery money and not think twice. Mother would guide us to do the right thing despite obstacles. Ha! As the oldest in this family I was doomed to be a humanitarian.
Was it my choice? Totally. But the energy pushing me toward this goal was intense. Do something high, something important, something meaningful, something of high moral standards. No pressure. And the sacrifice of my personal, physical, emotional life? No problem. I feel fortunate that I penciled in time to get married and have children. That worked out well. But the guilt remains. How much time for which goals.
So now my lovely children have grown up and are doing wonderful things of their own. I have created a program that has directly saved the lives of 3,000+ children. Is it enough? Dear God I hope so but fear it is not. Do I have enough left in me to go one more round?
And I am not even counting my involvement in things political in order to keep our nation from descending into totalitarianism. I spend much of my time these days working behind the scenes here in Washington to help save what's left of our nation from tyranny. I argue with very intelligent people who don't yet see the danger about what has happened and what can happen. The Republicans in government now have gone too far. Can we keep them from taking control of the elections, of what's left of the Justice Department, I would go on but I'm crying.
GOD HELP US
Surely my work at the St. Petersburg Children's Hospital has multiple reasons for its existence. I was raised as a Christian to "love your enemies" and no one could be more our enemy than the Soviet Union, whose stated goal was that they would bury us. We thought there would be World War III and that few would survive.
And when I talk about love, here is what I mean. When my Dad was a child he wrote a letter to Santa that was printed in the Middletown [Ohio] Journal:
"I am six years old and live at 604 Mary Etta street. You may fill my stocking if you have anything left after you visit the little boys and girls who do not have toys."
This is the definition of love in our family. Dad would give you the grocery money and not think twice. Mother would guide us to do the right thing despite obstacles. Ha! As the oldest in this family I was doomed to be a humanitarian.
Was it my choice? Totally. But the energy pushing me toward this goal was intense. Do something high, something important, something meaningful, something of high moral standards. No pressure. And the sacrifice of my personal, physical, emotional life? No problem. I feel fortunate that I penciled in time to get married and have children. That worked out well. But the guilt remains. How much time for which goals.
So now my lovely children have grown up and are doing wonderful things of their own. I have created a program that has directly saved the lives of 3,000+ children. Is it enough? Dear God I hope so but fear it is not. Do I have enough left in me to go one more round?
And I am not even counting my involvement in things political in order to keep our nation from descending into totalitarianism. I spend much of my time these days working behind the scenes here in Washington to help save what's left of our nation from tyranny. I argue with very intelligent people who don't yet see the danger about what has happened and what can happen. The Republicans in government now have gone too far. Can we keep them from taking control of the elections, of what's left of the Justice Department, I would go on but I'm crying.
GOD HELP US
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
egregious family advances science
Ach.
I'm so proud of my family I don't know which to publish first. We will start with my nephew who is part of the CERN experiment in Geneva, on the front page of today's science section of the New York Times. He is likely missing an urgent family gathering in order to participate in this unique experiment, and I hope all will forgive him. This is history in the making. Godspeed [little joke about particle physics, and their speed]. Yo Alan!!
Only in this light can my cousin being featured in an article in The New Yorker come in second place. Did I mention we are a science and engineering family? My cousin is an expert on the Great Wall, which turns out to be a line not a wall, do I have that right David?
My own humble observation relates to my congenital surgery work in Russia. I have not posted much in the last few weeks because of being in Russia, trip #30, then recovering, then attending back to back conferences on congenital and thoracic surgery. Ho hum such a boring life :)
On my way home from that torture that is individual training at the gym, I saw an ambulance with siren and lights on stuck in traffic. Immediate impulse was to calculate how to eliminate the obstacles. It struck me, that's exactly what I do in Russia. Figure out what are the obstacles to saving more lives, and slash thru them. By the fired o'glake if necessary.
During this aha moment the song on my radio was Josh Groban, a beautiful addition to any moment, but it seemed to describe how I am trying to support the surgeons working in St. Petersburg:
"When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.
"You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.
"There is no life, no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But then you come, and I am filled with wonder;
Sometimes I think, I glimpse eternity."
*******
My cousin looking back over the millenia,
my nephew sacrificing something very dear
to come close to the mysteries of eternity.
Me, I'm just trying to wrap up the Cold War,
bring a great city and a rising nation
back into the fold of civilized countries.
It's only been, what, 100 years?
Psalm 90/Isaac Watts:
"A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone
Short as the watch the ends the night
Before the rising dawn."
*******
I'm so proud of my family I don't know which to publish first. We will start with my nephew who is part of the CERN experiment in Geneva, on the front page of today's science section of the New York Times. He is likely missing an urgent family gathering in order to participate in this unique experiment, and I hope all will forgive him. This is history in the making. Godspeed [little joke about particle physics, and their speed]. Yo Alan!!
Only in this light can my cousin being featured in an article in The New Yorker come in second place. Did I mention we are a science and engineering family? My cousin is an expert on the Great Wall, which turns out to be a line not a wall, do I have that right David?
My own humble observation relates to my congenital surgery work in Russia. I have not posted much in the last few weeks because of being in Russia, trip #30, then recovering, then attending back to back conferences on congenital and thoracic surgery. Ho hum such a boring life :)
On my way home from that torture that is individual training at the gym, I saw an ambulance with siren and lights on stuck in traffic. Immediate impulse was to calculate how to eliminate the obstacles. It struck me, that's exactly what I do in Russia. Figure out what are the obstacles to saving more lives, and slash thru them. By the fired o'glake if necessary.
During this aha moment the song on my radio was Josh Groban, a beautiful addition to any moment, but it seemed to describe how I am trying to support the surgeons working in St. Petersburg:
"When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.
"You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.
"There is no life, no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But then you come, and I am filled with wonder;
Sometimes I think, I glimpse eternity."
*******
My cousin looking back over the millenia,
my nephew sacrificing something very dear
to come close to the mysteries of eternity.
Me, I'm just trying to wrap up the Cold War,
bring a great city and a rising nation
back into the fold of civilized countries.
It's only been, what, 100 years?
Psalm 90/Isaac Watts:
"A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone
Short as the watch the ends the night
Before the rising dawn."
*******
Sunday, April 29, 2007
To save the nation. But which one.
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].
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].
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
