Posted on by Fred

Horror Toes

My dog, Speedy Shine, got under the covers the same as he did every night.  It was Sleepy Time, and that always means cuddles.  But that night he started nibbling on my right foot.  I shook it off a few times, but he wouldn’t stop.  He never does anything like that, so I became a little concerned.  I took off my sock, and I was utterly horrified.

You have to understand I’m diabetic.  I haven’t been able to feel my feet in years.  I have only a tingling, and I could sense the force of Speedy Shine trying to get through my socks, but I don’t react to anything else happening there.  I’m unaware of it.  I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t what I saw.

There was a hole at the bottom of one of my toes.  I remember it as being the fourth toe, but the doctors all assure me it was the second.  I looked only for the briefest of moments, and then I put on a fresh sock and didn’t want to look anymore.  I’ll take their word for it.  They looked longer and more closely than I did.

My sock was filled with a horrid goo.  That was singularly unpleasant.  I spent a sleepless night.  I was sure this could not possibly be a good thing. 

I contacted my Primary Care Physician the next morning, but I led with my need for a new C-Pap, a Continuous Glucose Monitor, and wanting to get my Lantus refilled, and I asked for a Zoom appointment.  I was promptly shut down.  They do that only for COVID patients now.  I explained it was important.  I’m afraid of people.  They said they would check and call me back.

My best friend told me to go to the ER, but I thought she was overreacting.  I waited.

I called the doctor two days later because I still hadn’t heard back.  This time I led with the toe, and the girl that answers the phone acted as though I were stupid, and that obviously I needed to go to the ER.  She mentioned something called Sepsis. 

I called my best friend.  She couldn’t come.  She also couldn’t check on Speedy Shine.  She had just decided to foster another dog, and she had to get right home after work to check on how well he was getting along with her other two dogs. 

One of The People on The Porch came to my rescue.  She took me to the ER as early as she could that evening, and then she came and made sure Speedy Shine was all right. 

I waited for nearly four hours in the ER.  There were many people in much worse shape than I was.  All my vitals were great.  My blood sugar was fine.  It was just that my toe was going to fall off.  I remember hoping they would just put some tape on it and send me home.

When they called me in and saw what was happening, they admitted me immediately.  I began to freak out about Speedy Shine.  He would have to spend the night alone in the backyard, and I was losing it with guilt.  He should never ever have to do that. 

The nurses hooked me up to IVs filled with antibiotics.  I sat in my room trying to decide there were worthwhile things to be found on cable, and that commercials weren’t the Scourge of All Art.  To its credit USA Network played all 3 Back to the Future movies… twice.  I came in halfway through II, and then I watched the others.  I didn’t hate that, but I could have done without the commercials.

The nurses were all very kind.  They made sure I had enough to eat, and one of them, a wonderful woman named Delaney (yes, that’s her real name.  I don’t know her last name.) even went down to the soda machine for me after hours to keep me in Diet Coke.  (They didn’t have Diet Pepsi.  Beggars can’t be choosers.)

The friend who had driven me to the ER went to check on the dog the next day.  She told me the neighbor was complaining about Speedy Shine barking.  My friend explained where I was and what was happening.  The neighbor still seemed cranky.  She threatened to call Animal Control and have him taken away.  I went into a panic.  Without Speedy Shine, it’s all over for me.

The following day my best friend and her boyfriend, who had taken him for a walk a couple of times, checked on Speedy Shine, and my best friend talked to my neighbor.  My best friend knew her from when she used to live here.  She introduced Speedy Shine to the neighbor, and the neighbor settled down.  She said she wouldn’t call Animal Control.  My stress level dropped significantly. 

Another of The People on The Porch heard about my plight, and she hired her niece and a friend to drive out from Las Vegas to take care of Speedy Shine.  That also dropped my stress level significantly.  She conducted a fundraiser that allowed me to get a ton of food, a beautiful new microwave, some utensils, some candles, and some new sheets.  They also cleaned my house from top to bottom.  If I ever got out of the hospital, my home and my dog would be fantastic. 

Her niece had to leave before I could get home, so Sherlock, The Mystery Patron, moved in with Speedy Shine even though she’s allergic to dogs.  I guess he’s not hairy enough to cause her significant issues. 

Throughout all of this, I was lying in a hospital bed… alone.  My best friend couldn’t take me to the ER.  She couldn’t come check on me that night.  She couldn’t come when I had an MRI the next day.  She couldn’t come when the surgeon who read the results told me I had a bone infection and that I could choose between amputation and six to eight weeks of IV antibiotics at home.  I would be out of the hospital more quickly with amputation, but she recommended the IV.  My problem is that I’m very bad at those kinds of things.  It’s all I can do to remember to take my Lantus every night.  I don’t know how to hook all that stuff up, and I cringe any time anyone inserts an IV into me.  There were more than ample opportunities for me to screw it up and lose the toe, anyway.  And I missed Speedy Shine so much it was physically painful. I discussed my options with several people, including my best friend, and while many of them also recommended the IVs, I didn’t think it was wise.  I went into surgery alone.  I came out to an empty waiting room.  I learned, when I regained consciousness, however, that I still had all my toes.  My surgeon is a genius.  She managed to remove only the part of the bone that was infected, and she left the rest of it.  She extracted a tiny piece of the “good bone” to test it.  Thank you, Dr. Montes, for your brilliant work.  I couldn’t be more grateful.

I shared the information on Facebook, and my friends were very kind. They expressed their relief and their pleasure that I was relatively all right.

My best friend visited me only twice during the entire adventure, and even then, I had to argue with her to get her to come.  She had too many more important things to do.  Her best friend needed to try on some dresses.  She had to look at them with her before she could come by the hospital.  That argument was the only time my blood sugar got too high while I was in the hospital.  It ended up with us fighting while she was sitting in the parking lot of the hospital and me telling her not to bother to come up.  For reasons passing understanding, she came up anyway, half an hour later.  She had gotten me Church’s Chicken, which was kind, but she sat so long in the car that the food was ruined by the time I got it.  To this day, we disagree about how she was showing me empathy.  And then she learned a little about it.

Her legs were tingling.  She was losing feeling in them.  Something was obviously wrong.  She went to doctors in search of answers.  I was on the phone from my hospital bed with her as often as she would pick up, and I recommended getting more medical opinions.  She thought she had Guillain-Barre syndrome.  It can cause paralysis, but it will only last a month or so.  The final diagnosis was worse.  We’ll get to that in due course. 

I sat in the hospital, hooked up to IVs, for another 48 hours after surgery waiting to see if the little piece of “good” bone Dr. Montes extracted would grow cultures from any left-over infection.  The next morning she came in to tell me the results.  There was no infection left.  I was safe.   I could go home. 

Now I just had to wait for some company to call me to get a $9.00 co-pay for the walker I needed.  I waited for 45 minutes.  I waddled out to the front desk with the walker the hospital was letting me use.  I offered to give them cash or my debit card so I could go.  Before the nurse could answer me, the man from the office came out and started yelling at me.  He told me they would call.  I said he had told me that an hour ago.  He said it was only a half hour, and he stormed off, leaving me no further means of communicating with him.  I waited another 15 minutes, and then I called a friend, who I only that night learned was actually Sherlock, The Mystery Patron.  I asked her to get me the cheapest walker she could find and come and get me out.  She was there 20 minutes later with a Goodwill walker.  She became my new hero.  We left. 

She took me to get prescriptions and we grabbed some Taco Bell before we got home.  I thought Speedy Shine was going to have a heart attack when he saw me.  I’ve never seen him so happy.  I don’t recall having been that happy, either, in quite some time.  It was a joyous reunion. 

Sherlock spent the next couple of days with me, getting me the prescriptions that hadn’t been previously available, making me lists of what to take and when, and providing me with psychological counseling of a sort one wouldn’t expect from someone so young.  Obviously, I developed stronger feelings for her than I was comfortable having, but I dealt with them.  I’m Fred.  I don’t have anything to do with women anymore.

My best friend called me the next day with devastating news: she has Muscular Sclerosis.  This is a lifetime diagnosis, and there is little to be done beyond controlling symptoms.  She needed to spend time hooked up to an IV to get infusions that would, we hoped, help her.  I’m brokenhearted for her.  I’m doing all I can to help and to show her the empathy I suspect she needs. 

She originally intended to keep teaching and do her infusions between classes.  I talked her out of that.  This is a time when she has to think of herself first.  The infusions turned out to be more difficult than she had anticipated.  She experiences pain from them sometimes.  There was no way she could have handled this in her classroom.  We’ve discussed how the universe reacts to things.  She understands a little better what I went through in the hospital, but, of course, her MS is much worse than my infection.  We’ll be doing a GoFundMe to help with her medical bills soon.  I hope you’ll help.  She’s already out a couple thousand dollars, and we’re just beginning.  I’ll put it on my Facebook page when she’s ready.

Today I’m safely home.  I’ve talked to a Social Worker who thinks I can get help from Meals on Wheels, perhaps find a place that will allow me to pay a third of my income as rent, and get some help with bathing, cooking, and cleaning.  I talked to a Physical Therapist who is helping me to walk with my walker.  The surgeon is pleased with how well my toe is doing.  She rewrapped it, and she put a splint on it to keep it safe. 

I’m playing Sara Niemietz’s new album, “Superman” repeatedly.  It helps to keep me grounded, and “Four Walls” is reminding me that things will get better.  I secretly believe, without any evidence whatsoever, that it was written for me.  It’s an absolutely Fred song.  I’m hoping to have an autographed copy next week.  If you haven’t heard it, you really need to check it out. 

Sara Niemietz

I have kind friends who make my life better.  I’m grateful to all of you for listening to my show and supporting me in so many ways.  I love you all.

https://open.spotify.com/episode/5eRJpDyDpFzwOET23iud7M?si=8de852e01c664008

Posted on by Fred · 1 Comment

Which are The People Who Should Die for a Lack of Little Green Pieces of Paper?

“You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom. What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else. When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it.” – Adrian Rogers

Which are the people who should die because they lack Little Green Pieces of Paper? Let’s identify them quickly, find them, and give them each the shot we use to end the life of the dogs we love who can no longer live a decent life, and then get around to getting health care covered for everyone else.

I am not qualified to judge who is worthy and who is not. I don’t know their whole story, and neither does the worker at the welfare office punching information into a computer that will apply an algorithm to determine if they deserve any help at all, and if so, how much.

I understand the archaic need for The Puritan Work Ethic. I also know that Sloth was once considered a sin. It’s one of the Seven Deadly Sins, in fact. It shares its distinction with other equally evil things such as Pride and Greed. I don’t think Pride is a sin. I think Greed is. I know many people who believe Greed isn’t, and Pride is… and some who believe none of them are sins.

Early in our history, failing to work as hard as one can was, in fact, quite possibly lethal. Per Hansa and Beret, in Giants in The Earth, had to work ceaselessly in order to survive. He had to do all of the work of building a place to live: cutting the trees, making them into something he could use, and then assembling all the pieces to build his house. He had to raise his own food. His wife had an equal portion of difficult tasks to complete. There was no time for them to consider sitting down and reading a book, or even, most of the time, getting around to watching a nice sunset. They were simply too busy. Any moment spent not working put them in possibly mortal danger.

Ben Franklin told us that, “Sin is not hurtful because it is forbidden; it is forbidden because it is hurtful.” Sloth was undoubtedly sinful at one point in the history of our world.

Because of Per Hansa and Beret’s work, and the work of hundreds of thousands like them, our civilization has grown and prospered. No one has to build their own houses anymore. We can get our food at the grocery store. We have time to trade ideas on Facebook.

The idea that relaxing is evil, that someone who is unable, or unwilling, to collect large stacks of Little Green Pieces of Paper is somehow worse and less deserving than other people, is no longer valid. It’s not up to me to tell anyone how to live. It is, however, as a society, as a civilization, necessary to ensure that our citizens can all, at the very least, continue to live as long as possible.

No one deserves to be homeless, regardless of how much I may disapprove of how they live the life they have in that home. No one deserves to be hungry, even if I think badly of them. It turns out my values are not the only possible values to consider. I don’t have a monopoly on the truth, but I don’t want anyone to be without the basics of survival.

We all agree that everyone deserves a free and appropriate public education. That’s PL 94-142, and no one objects to the idea that all children go to school. We’ve done it that way for a very long time, and there’s nothing remotely radical about that idea now.

Why can’t we also have public health care?

I believe Health Care is a Human Right. Someone this morning told me it’s not, because I have no right to someone else’s labor. That’s an interesting point.

On the other hand, I never asked parents to pay me to teach their kids. I was paid by the state for my labor. The only right the parents had to my labor was that their taxes paid for it.

Why can’t the state set up public hospitals? Go, when you need to, without insurance, without a bill. You show up. The doctors and nurses fix you. You go home. All done.

Is it because Doctors would have to work for less money? No doctors want to work for teacher pay? Okay… then pay them properly. Are doctors, who I admire and respect, more important than teachers? If so, point to the doctor who became a doctor without any teachers.

Imagine this …

Sylvia is a 23 year old mother of a 16 month old girl, Christina. She works 40 hours a week as a shift leader at Olive Garden, and is earning $16.50 an hour. After taxes, she brings home $568 a week. Her total monthly income is $2272. Rent in her 2 bedroom apartment is $1400 a month. Day Care is $1350. Groceries for herself and her daughter run $250. The cell phone she uses to connect with the world has mobile hotspot and tethering so she can get online with her computer. She pays $150 a month for all that. Gas runs $100 a month. Utilities come out to about $250 a month. For just these basics of survival, she comes out $1228 in the hole every month. If she wants auto insurance to keep her car from getting impounded, that’s another $150 a month. Even though she owns her car free and clear (it’s a 2004 Camry), so she has no car payment, there’s no way she can survive on what she has.

Therefore…

She lives with her roommate, Bethany, a 25 year old Amazon employee who packs for shipping. She makes 15.00 an hour, also working 40 hours a week. This comes out to just under $2000 a month. She has the same expenses as Sylvia. Living on her own, she would be $300 a month in the hole.

Living with her roommate, Bethany has $575 a month left over. Sylvia has $947. They should be fine. They really should. Unless…

A car breaks down. That’s going to cost anywhere from $100 to $1000. They might be able to afford that, though.

Or…

They need new clothes, or they want to see a movie, or go out to dinner, or, God forbid, take a trip somewhere. Suddenly the money evaporates.

Or…

One of them gets sick. See, in the budgets above, guess what we didn’t consider? Yes… that’s right: Health Insurance

.

The average cost for health insurance without an employer paying for it is about $450 a month for an individual. It’s about $1350 for a family. They each need health insurance, and they can’t use the family plan to cover all three of them because Sylvia and Bethany aren’t married. Sylvia’s $947 is now gone. She has a baby to insure, as well. Bethany’s $575 is down to $125… and it’s not even enough to cover the difference between Sylvia’s earnings and her health insurance costs.

Health Insurance might cover as much as 80% of covered procedures. Rarely does it cover more than that. If your hospital stay is $100,000… and that’s a reasonably cheap visit… you still owe $20,000. How are the girls ever going to pay that? They’re finished. It’s really no wonder the suicide rate keeps climbing. When one loses hope, life is pointless.

Add to this problem that when one of them gets sick, the income for the whole household drops. They didn’t have enough to make ends meet in the first place, and now they have even less. Now they start figuring out which bills to pay, and which bills to blow off until they can afford them. And, when they’re late, late fees get added, and they’re in even deeper trouble.

What would be your solution to the problems these women face?

There are some I wish to eliminate off the top.

  1. It’s their problem, not mine! They should have…. whatever. This isn’t a solution. It’s dodging a solution. I have no idea what they deserve. Neither do you. I can, however, observe what they need. They need affordable healthcare.
  2. They should work more. Then they could afford it. I’m not buying this solution, either. You work LESS when you’re sick, not more. And, at 40 hours a week, they’re working full time. There’s little point in living if you can’t enjoy any of it.
  3. They should get healthcare from their employers. That would be helpful, but some employers offer it; others don’t. Even with insurance from their employers, they’re out of pocket any time they need to see a doctor. They really can’t afford to be.

Now, as Sherlock Holmes once said, “… when you eliminate the impossible, what ever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”

I’m looking for a solution that allows these women to live a decent life. I have a suggestion.

In a few years, Sylvia will be able to send her daughter to school. This will eliminate much of the cost of Day Care. And… you know how much she’ll pay to send her daughter not only to be cared for, but actually taught, by highly trained professionals? Yes… that’s right. Zero dollars.

No one ever asks how to pay for public schools because we’ve had them since 1635. They’re simply accepted. There’s a LOT of debate about how MUCH to spend on them, and what teachers should be paid, and what they should be doing within those taxpayer funded buildings. But their need to exist is never even questioned. We all understand that education is essential to being a member of society. We actually punish parents who don’t send their kids to school if they don’t at least home school them.

I believe Education is vital. I would go so far as to say it’s a human right.

I believe the same about healthcare. And it seems to me the solution is the same as we used for Education. Let’s make it free and appropriate and public.

Public hospitals exist in which Doctors and Nurse and Staff are all employees of the state, just as Teachers and Aides and Staff are at a public school.

It costs nothing to go to the public hospital, just as it costs nothing to go to the public school. If you’re dissatisfied with the public hospital, you can do just as parents do when they’re dissatisfied with the public school: pay to go to a better one.

Now Sylvia and Bethany can make it again. If they get sick, they’re still going to take a hit on monthly income, but they have the money left to get by for a little longer.

I’m not going into the deep logistics of Economics here. I would suggest that if we have to raise taxes a bit to pay for it, then so be it. We won’t need to raise them so much that it costs an extra $900 a month, and every dime below the $900 is a savings for Sylvia and Bethany. And it’s a savings for all of the Sylvias and Bethanies out there. More importantly, it give us all the means to live a little longer. Isn’t that what we all want for all people?

A life spent doing nothing but working in order to do nothing but survive is a stolen life. There’s no point in living without being able to enjoy living at least a little. We’re not settlers in the wilderness anymore. We’re the crowning achievement of our species working together for 200,000 years to advance to a place where, finally, we can provide more than the basic necessities of life for everyone who wants them. Why don’t we do that, then? Let’s work together to make life better for Bethany and Sylvia and Christina, and all those out there like them, and all those who will follow them in the future. Let’s create a world in which we all want to live.