Arriviste

The word means one who is newly arrived on the scene, posed to take off, as it were. The question is, who does it pertain to in our upcoming election?

That McCain is the same old same old is undisputed. Despite his genial appearance on Ellen the other afternoon, still, he is one, like Kerry, who has a tendency to flip flop back and forth in what he says. He did stand his ground on gay marriage in California, denying Ellen the ability to actually marry her lover vs. having a civil contract with her. And did it with self-deprecating humor that even he says is reminiscent of Reagan. However, his old style politics have been around since the founding fathers.

Hilary and Barak are a bit of a different story. We say we want change, but can we, as a nation, really accept this much change? A woman president? An African-American president? 

This is a giant moment in history for America, that we have finally evolved to have an election truly reflecting the cross culture of our country, but instead of celebrating it, we grind it under the wheels of the press, tearing apart every innocuous slip someone might make until it winds through the sausage grinder of the American press corps into an unrecognizable mess.

What is truly sad to me, in this day of arrivistes, is that we cannot have this giant moment in history without the tried and true cries of racism and sexism when what ever electoral party in question doesn't get what they want. If we don't vote for Hilary, we're sexists. If we don't vote for Barak we're racists. What about if we simply don't like the people?

And if generalizing the American people as racists and sexists is not enough, well, then break it down in the demographics on the nightly news. It seems, after tonight's pablom, that the more educated in Kentucky are voting for Barak and the less educated are voting for Hilary. Oh puhleeease!! Suddenly now voting for Barak is the way of the enlightened!

I recently wrote to a friend that were it not for the fact that my grandmother campaigned for the women's right to vote, and was the first woman to vote in Leslie County, and had to walk from Trace Branch to Hyden on a dirt road to do so, I wouldn't even bother.

I'm not interested in any of the candidates. Not one of them has pledged any sort of interest in researching new power alternatives, although McCain came the closest on Ellen the other afternoon when he said we had to cut our dependence on foreign oil and stop sending billions of dollars to people who don't like us. Duh!!! However, he's into nuclear power and I'm not overjoyed about that.

Hilary, when asked about strip mining, mumbled something about alternative power sources but didn't expound on it. Barak is bragging on his TV commercials about the $200 million he pushed through for coal processing plants. It was high on his list, but it pretty much knocked him down to the bottom of mine. More coal processing plants means more strip mining of my beloved mountains.

I think I am an enlightened voter, as well as some of my "less educated" friends. I'm just not an interested, excited voter. I don't see any indication in any of the candidates of what I am most interested in seeing happen in my country -- that we would wake up as a nation and realize that this Earth is not going to last under this brutal attack of carbon dioxide buildup, fossil fuel mining and burning, and fairly much unconcered rape of our natural resources. We are not respecting the Earth, as we are not doing anything to preserve it. When these candidates start talking that kind of talk, then I'll be excited, and then I'll be listening. Until then, it's voting for the one who's least likely to do the most harm. Same old, same old.

Old Memories

There is a feller I fell in love with so many years ago, and it was all such a waste. I gave up so much for him, and I was totally helpless in my giving. He was always very cool -- he had that about him. He was immensely popular and that he gave me any kind of attention at all just floored me. I thought that much of him and that little of myself. If all of that wasn't embarrassing enough, I still think about him a lot, and dream about him a lot. And I don't know why, and I can't help it.

What hurt so much about losing him was that he had told me we were friends, and stupid me, I truly thought we were. But when he went on to higher education and his new friends, he dropped me like a hot potato. Where before he had found me ravishing and exciting and always welcomed my calls, now he began to be short and crisp on the phone, and to make snide remarks about my lifestyle, my friends, and the things I thought to be important. 

Honest to goodness, I think of him at least once a week, if not just about every day. Why, why, why, why?

Is it unresolved anger? Part of me would like to face him and say, you know, you just didn't know who I was. All the crap you thought you knew about me, the crappy way you treated me, none of that said anything about me. It said loads about you. 

The other part of me doesn't ever want to see him again. I know what his opinion would be on just about any subject, and I really don't want to hear it. His opinions are unimaginative. I ran into a mutual friend at a bookstore a long while back. You ought to get in touch with him, this mutual friend said. Best let sleeping dogs lie, I replied.

Because I was so hung up on this fellow, I let a lot of really good men pass by. There were a couple of really great guys I just couldn't muster anything for, and I think they held it against me. I really, really liked these guys. Maybe if they had ever just sat me down face to face and given me another option, it would have been different, but they both came in at awkward times, doing awkward things that scared me more than anything. I ran like a scalded dog.

You can't make someone fall in love with you, and I never asked that of him. We were great buddies for the longest while, and that was good enough for me. I never thought once about marrying this fellow. I would not have relished being his wife. Yet, I never could go the distance with any other man except for one. I married him -- he was the only one who ever made me forget the first one, but although he, once again, was a great guy, he had his issues, and I had mine, and the marriage fell apart almost instantly. My current fellow and I talk about marriage all the time, but that's all we do, is talk. Despite the fact that he is, of course, a great guy, and a true friend, I just can't do it. 

There's a part of me that wishes I would never think of him again. There's a part of me that hopes I never forget him. 

I have had hundreds of dreams about him, and never a satisfying one. He's always elusive in my dreams. There, but on the way out. I wake up happy that I got to see him, and missing him, and frustrated that he's gone yet again. There was a series of dreams that I had about him, one right after the other, so upsetting that I finally called and asked him if he was okay. He was, but his new girlfriend wasn't. After he dissed my profession (as a respiratory therapist - "Just a 2 year program? I thought you were a college girl..."), he asked if I was still singing. I told him no, just for meaness. The weird thing about it, something that was so strange, was that I did not recognize his voice at all. It was like talking to a complete stranger, except for his inherent snideness, which was all too familiar. I ended the conversation as soon as I could. I happen to be a college girl. That would be two degrees, thank you very much.

I guess I am still angry, and I guess I'm angry at the waste of it. I thought it was one of those great male/female friendships, till all of a sudden I wasn't good enough anymore. He was fun, and had a great sense of humor and a wry wit, and it felt good to be in his circle. It felt horrible to be left behind. But at the same time, his humor was becoming cruel and demeaning. I guess it was for the best.

I am more satisfied now than I have ever been. At long last I'm giving full bent to creative expression, damn the cost. It is such a relief. It's a luxury I never gave myself, dogmatic creature that I am. I quit the smoking, took back my space, decided I was worth taking care of. I fuss over my little family of my boyfriend, horses, alpacas, dogs and cat, and my friends. I don't think I lost anything by losing him. I'm not sure I gained much either. He might have actually lost out as well.

Well, this is a blog with no point. This is a blog with no lesson, and really with nothing said. Just a comment on the strange way we are, what sticks in our minds, and where our minds go wandering from time to time. I guess the lesson learned, is one an old woman once told me. Folks won't remember what you said to them, she said, but they'll always remember how you made them feel.

Consider The Source

With Earth Day in mind, I've lately been looking back at my time here on planet Earth, (right in time with the stages of life the sociologists and psychologists say I'm supposed to go through at this age), and I have been taking inventory of my experiences and trying to figure out if I've learned anything from them.

Once, when I was young, I had a vision. I was twelve, and I was asleep in bed and I woke to see a tall, dark woman with long dark hair standing at the foot of my bed. She didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything to her, and she faded out of sight. It wasn't scary, and the words "the red way," came to me and kind of stayed with me. The next morning my mother told me it was probably my great-great grandmother, who was Metis. It wasn't until many years later in college, when I felt compelled to pursue some Native American studies, one of the things to come out of my readings was this concept of "the lesson." The older I got, the more references I found to the concept. And I ran across the phrase "the red way," discovering it referred to a Native concept of living one's life, and to be thankful for the lessons. 

I spent many years trying to figure out what my "red way" was, as I am Metis also. I thought if life is for learning lessons, what have I learned? I mean, really, besides how to do emergency repairs on ventilators and balance my checkbook. I have to say that one of the most important lessons I can ever remember learning I got from one of my Journalism teachers, Mr. McCauley. 

The lesson was "consider the source."

I cannot begin to tell you how many times that simple directive, once considered, has made a major impact on my life. That small phrase has transformed a whole host of incidents too tiny to even remember. At the time, muttered by an elderly man with gray and white, fly away hair, it seemed an innocuous statement, almost a no-brainer, but I wrote it down dutifully in my Copyreading and Editing notes. It was one that really, I had never considered before. And thankfully, I've never forgotten it.

I didn't realize it at the time, but Mr. McCauley saved my life. Always prone to have a bit of trouble with self-esteem, that phrase was like a lifesaver thrown to a drowning woman. No more was I prey to those who hunt out and stalk women with poor self-esteem. I was making some mistakes, but my eyes were opening. Wait a minute! Consider the source!

I started applying it to daily issues. For instance commercialism. We are supposed to do our jobs, which is to consume. We go to work, get money, spend and consume something. To this end, we are bombarded by TV and radio ads urging us to buy this vitamin, or that beauty product. Advertising worms its way into our most private moments. If it doesn't get us, it gets our children. Keeping up with the status quo becomes the paramount goal of parent and child alike, causing us to take jobs that take us away from our families at night, and for long hours at a time, subjecting us to unrelenting stress that sneaks into our marriages, relationships, and health. I felt fine before I turned the TV on, but now I realize I'm getting a double chin, I've got gray hair, and surely there must be other things wrong with me. Wait a minute! Consider the source!

Rev. Wright, Obama's preacher, said it succinctly on TV the other night. When asked how he felt about what Obama had said about him, the reverend matter of factly replied, oh, Obama's a politician. He has to do what a politician does. Here is a man who has been the spiritual leader of a man who wants to be our president, and he passes Obama off like an afterthought. I don't like what he said about my country. Seems to me if he truly cared about changing America for the better, he'd be a little bit more supportive of Obama, given he's his spiritual leader and all. Consider the source.

Consider the source. What a great slide rule. What a great concept. What's the purpose, what's the agenda, who gains and who loses? What's the real motivation. It's not a guarantee against bad decisions, but it can shed a little light on the situation.

So, after all this time, my hat's off to you, Mr. McCauley. I do appreciate the little newsman's tip you gave me. It's the best advice I can give to anybody. And with that in mind, consider the source.

King Coal

I am reminded that some time ago a representative from Peabody Energy Company contacted me wanting my cooperation in leasing our land for gas and oil on my family's home place in Leslie County. They would pay us to rent the land, which would be a great source of income for my aunt and uncle. His presentation was slick and rehearsed, with many dropped hints about much revenue we (my father's heirs) could expect to collect from royalties. Imagine my surprise when a family member informed me that, indeed, Peabody is drilling for oil and gas in Leslie County -- however they are capping the wells and have no plans to extract any oil or gas at this time. They are choosing NOT to produce any fuel. They're just holding on to the land.

Our subjectivity to King Coal in this state is sad. The new buzz word regarding coal, is "clean electricity." But when it comes to coal, there is NO such thing as "clean" electricity. It does not matter how many cleaners you force the air through. When you have strip-mined coal, you have single-handedly supported the subjugation of an entire populace of people, their ecology, history, and the complete devastation of a rare and delicate ecosystem that can never be "reclaimed." From the devastated faces of the family members of coal miners buried alive to the land and waterways fouled from the drift and sludge pond overflows, coal is a filthy energy source for Kentuckians and everyone else, and we need to acknowledge that fact. Every time we turn on an electrical appliance, we need to remember where that electricity is coming from and the true cost it takes in human lives, health and our environment.

Coal is great for the economy. Aren't we told that as well? Well the people of the community should benefit, right? I mean all that money in the area? The elderly people in that community travel at least one county, if not two or three, down twisting, winding roads, in order to receive quality health care above the competent one in Hyden. It's the same in other coal-producing counties. There are some sections of the area that have an economy less than many third world countries. It doesn't employ a lot of people to strip-mine coal. Not enough to make any difference in the economy. 

Coal in Kentucky involves a brutal history of graft and politics, senseless death and dismemberment, disease and generational poverty, all shoved down the throat of a populace that has been exploited, maligned, ridiculed and discounted despite their incredible contributions to our lives and culture. I can speak personally from my experiences as a respiratory therapist. In many in-services involving pulmonary lung function testing for Black Lung, we are cautioned about those "hillbillies" trying to "deceive" Medicaire and Medicaid by "faking" their test results for black lung benefits. As far as I'm concerned every coal miner who has spent any significant amount of time in the minds should qualify for Black Lung. These people are soldiers. They do a horrible job for a lifetime for our ability to turn on the lights, and they live out their lives with compromised lungs and disease as a result. That the government should turn their backs on them after a life time of service, is not surprising, but it is appalling. There is no reason they should not be considered civil servants also, and subject to their benefits.

You would think that an occupation as dangerous as coal mining would be under the strictest safety guidelines imaginable. But recently it took a huge effort on the part of several environmental and human interest groups to keep some extremely basic mining safety requirements (e.g. for instance that the foremen and women have basic CPR skills) on the table for legislation. OSHA, who is the bane of every hospital's corporate compliance office, seems to have turned a blind eye to coal mining. The EPA hasn't seemed to notice that the Middle Fork of the Kentucky River is the most unnatural green I have ever seen in my entire life. We rely on these government fail-safes to guard the health and lives of our miners and environment, but where are they before the cave-ins, the landslides and the spills?

Fossil fuels have been passe since the 70's. The only reason alternatives have not been developed is because there are people who have a vested interest in the status quo who have prevented it. How telling is it that not one of our new presidential candidates has an energy policy that eliminates our use of fossil fuels for power! They go on and on about "clean" coal, not mentioning that it still involves raping old growth forest and fouling mountain watersheds and ways. Why should they worry? It's not in their back yard.

Many years ago a coal company showed up with a deed for my family's coal, signed with an "X," as they maintained my grandmother didn't know how to write. Odd, since she raised three teachers. These people are sleazy in their very nature. This is no golden opportunity for plentiful energy and income. This is a golden opportunity for a very few to profit at a horrific cost. I recently heard these words, "Wall Street has it's eye on Kentucky." Wall Street is looking to rip the bones and guts out of our cherished mountain land and old growth forest. Wall Street doesn't give a damn about Kentucky.

Lot's Wife

The good news is the computer is working again, and I'm restored to the net. The bad news is that it took a new hard drive to do it. Just goes to show you, you never, never know. The problem was that I was downloading an update, and the computer froze midway through. The tech folks said there was nothing I could have done. Next time, though, I will make sure I am in town with 5 green bars on my hook up. And next time I will definitely back up before I download.

As luck would have it, I had finally figured out how to use the external hard drive I had bought about 9 months ago, and I did back up at least most of my important files about a month ago. These are files that mean a whole lot to me, i.e., my writing, my music, my photos. My address book did back up, so I only lost the most recent email addresses. My new essays I have been publishing on the web, so they were still accessible. About the only thing I failed to back up was my Journal. And I'm not so sure it was a bad thing.

The last three years have not been pleasant. I lost my father in 2000, and we went through a difficult adjustment, myself and my family. There was the family farm to consider, and the running of it. My mother, at 80, rallied and did a tremendous job of stepping in to fill my father's shoes, but by 2005 she was sick with some physical problems, and heartsick, I think, missing my father. She died in March of that year despite everything I could do. 

A month later, within 2 days of each other, I lost one of my oldest friends to a car wreck, and the mobile home I'd been living in for 25 years caught fire and we almost died. I wrote about that in my piece about Jack. 

Once my mother died, it was a free for all in the family. It was a very horrible time. I opted out. I am just too tired anymore to deal with power struggles and ulterior motives and drama and all of that other crap. I actually, surprisingly, found it somewhat easy to take the money, turn around and walk away, and build myself a new farm, and a new home. I bought my Mac about three months after my mother died, installed the Journal program and wrote pretty faithfully about everything. So there was this record, and even though I hadn't ever gone back and read anything I had written, still there was that knowledge that I had written everything down. It was there, like a dark grey cloud in an otherwise blue sky.

It's not there anymore, and the strangest thing -- I feel absolutely light as air. I darn near feel like a new born babe. Just knowing all the bad stuff I had written about was gone, was the most liberating thing. I realized I never had to go back and read about it all again. There was now no way that could ever be done. It's like the sentiments were documented, expressed, and then tossed to the wind.

I woke up to a crystal blue sky today with a ton of sunlight all around, and with my morning coffee checked in with the computer. There was my horoscope for today, saying something to the effect that it was time to move on, that new things couldn't be done as long as I was still involved with things that had happened in the past. How bizarre!! It occurred to me that perhaps some other hand had somehow been involved in the computer freeze up. Odd that the only thing I really lost was the one thing that I really did not need to hold on to. And then I remembered the story of Lot's wife, that God had told her not to look back lest she become a pillar of salt. That's not the first time I'd thought about that, but it is now the first time that, with a smile on my face, I know I won't be looking back, and even can't cause there's nothing there. This is great! I don't even have the choice. I tell you, between the depression, the gray skies and the rain, I was beginning to wonder, but perhaps it's not my time for crystallizing just yet. 

Computer Down

Regretfully my laptop has taken a nosedive, which is why I just answered a comment with "anonymous." I'm on a friend's laptop writing this at this time. My laptop will be leaving me tomorrow and will be gone for about 7 to 10 days, they say, so I probably won't get to post anything during this time.

Thanks for visiting, and I'll be back as soon as I can.

Lyn

Testing for Lung Cancer

Someone asked me about testing for lung cancer, so I thought I would address that quickly. First and foremost, when talking about medical stuff, I have to say that I am not a licensed respiratory therapist in Kentucky at this time (but will be within a couple of months), and am currently licensed in the state of Ohio, as that is the last place I worked. Regardless of where I am, or am not, licensed, I have to say that I have to act under my profession's standards, one of which is that I am not allowed to practice medicine without a physician over me. So with that in mind, I have to say, your physician is the best person to talk to if you have medical concerns. I can tell you what I know of certain things, but for a proper diagnosis and treatment, you need to speak with a physician.

With that in mind, I know a little about lung cancer because it is how my father died. Believe me, between my experience as a respiratory therapist, my education, and taking care of my father, I could easily write a book about it. Very basically, though, cancers are cells that have, for one reason or another, grown out of control. There are many different types, but they are generally classified as small cell or non-small cell cancers. This covers cancers that affect the alveolar sac, the bronchials and the tissue. 

One of the insidious things about lung cancer is that there are no nerve endings in the lung tissue itself, so that you can have a tumor there the size of a grapefruit, and it won't hurt. Common symptoms prior to diagnosis of cancer are shoulder pain, a sensation of something pulling,  deviation in your trachea (your trachea moving to the right or left instead of running down the center), increased shortness of breath (due to decreased lung capacity), and coughing, either productive (including blood) or non-productive. The symptom that my father initially presented with was shoulder pain, which was misdiagnosed as "Uncle Arthur" (arthritis). 

Lung cancer, at least, causes you to lose a lot of weight, really fast.

Here we get into the practice of medicine vs. the reimbursement machine. Health insurance, medicare, medicaid, etc., wants a diagnosis before they will reimburse for a procedure. It's better to go to your doctor looking for a specific procedure and the reason for it instead of with just a bunch of vague symptoms. So if you were concerned about lung cancer, the very first thing I would tell my doctor is, I have this particular symptom, and I'm concerned about lung cancer because (history of smoking, family history or whatever), and I would like a chest x-ray, (which may or may not pick it up, but still, it's the first step). Hopefully you have a good doctor that you can be truthful with and say this.  And he, or she, will do a few procedural things in the office and then let you get an x-ray. If you don't have a good doctor, you can always go to an urgent treatment center, and complain of coughing or something to do with your lungs. They will almost always do a chest x-ray for you. 

Here is the kicker, though. The doctors will look at the x-ray, but there are professional radiologists who also do a reading, and this reading is a lot more involved than the cursory reading you would get at a doctor's office, or the UTC. It is your right, as a patient, to get a copy of that x-ray, and to get a copy of the radiologist's reading, and I would definitely do that. 

I will probably write more about being a smart patient at a later time, but that is the point I would like to make now. So, to answer the question, I would first get a chest x-ray, then get the radiologist's reading, and based on that talk with your doctor. If you don't have a good one, get one. If there is anything to be seen on the x-ray, then you would do the next step, which would be to get a cat scan or MRI. Then if there is something, a biopsy. 

Try to find a doctor who expects you to be a savvy patient. This is so important. Doctors are not gods, even though they are treated like they are. Just because they are a doctor, and maybe even an excellent doctor, if you can't be up front, honest and direct with them, then maybe they are not the doctor for you. It's your job to be critical of them, because it's your life you're putting in their hands. When I was going through respiratory school, someone once asked me, what do you call a med student who has graduated with low C grades? The answer, of course, was "Doctor." So be a critical consumer when dealing with medical issues. Access to your medical information is your right, and it would be better for you if you dealt with people who understood and respected that.