Tag: medicine

Monday’s Wandering Thought

It wasn’t a simple hookup.

Despite the lidocaine injected up my urethra, the Foley catheter’s progress up into my bladder felt torturous. Didn’t help that the little exam room felt very, very…chilly, or that I was naked from the waist down, covered by a paper ‘blanket’.

Yes, this was my fourth BCG wash. Just two more to go. Fortunately, Nurse C, who does the instillation for me, is almost my age and shares an appreciation for a lot of the same rock music.

We compare who we’ve seen and what albums and songs we particularly enjoy. Nurse C has one concert over me that has me really envious: her first concert was Carlos Santana.

I’ve never seen Santana in concert.

Laughing, she told me, “It was 1975. I was a teenager and big into disco. So, I worked all summer to pick strawberries, saving my money to buy a ticket to see KC and the Sunshine Band. Dad drove me and my girlfriend to the concert and then waited at a nearby coffee shop.

“KC and the Sunshine Band finished. We got up and headed for the exit. Then the next guy came on. I said, ‘Who is that,’ and turned to pay attention. It was Carlos Santana. I’d never heard him before. That changed everything for me.”

My bladder was about finished voiding the urine through the Foley by then. Glancing at the beaker collecting it, Nurse C said, “You have some good-looking urine, though. That looks great.”

I shook my head. “Man, that’s the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard.”

We laughed as she loaded up the TB solution and began feeding into my bladder.

Music. It can really help you get through life.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, March 5, 2026.

We’re winding through winter’s last days toward spring in Ashland. History provides us reminders that Ashland often experiences late winter to mid-spring snowstorms. I’d like more snow in the area, especially in the Cascades where our snowbank resides.

Today, it’s overcast with uncertain, flexing sunshine. 48 F, it feels neither warm nor cold, and our high is arcing toward just 50.

My phone has developed problems with receiving text messages all of a sudden. I’ve added fixing that to my todo list. I did get some updates from my siblings about Mom before the system went tango unform on me.

Mom is reverting to the behavior displayed in January. I drift toward remembering who she was and the complex relationships my sisters and I have with her. I contrast what’s she’s enduring with who she was, what and who she was trying to be, and where she arrived as a person. Much of it now is beyond her control. Doesn’t stop my sisters from getting angry about it. But we saw this pattern emerging. There was little we could do, which we learned with time, because we tried to do things to change the course.

I smile at some things, like her potato salad. My wife insists nobody makes potato salad like Mom. My wife tried but when she asked for a recipe, Mom was more about the ingredients and less about the measurements. One thing I learned from helping her make it sometimes was that Mom depended on tasting it and how it looked — color, texture. That’s hard to translate through recipes.

I was just settling into checking on prices, the war that Republicans don’t want to call a war, and other matters when breaking news arrived.

Trump replaces Noem at DHS, taps Mullin for job

I think at first, “about time”. Her arrogance and attitude doesn’t fit with what I look for in public servants. I temper that, though, with the understanding that she was carrying out Trump and Miller’s policies, and generally working as a functionary for Project 2025. It’ll be interesting to see how much this change will actually manifest as change.

On the heels of that thinking, I scoff, but of course Trump has replaced Noem. She’s become a lightning rod for negative impressions about Trump. With his popularity falling, he made her his scapegoat.

Today’s music is “Wild Horses” by the Rolling Stones. When The Neurons first settled it into my morning mental music stream, I sang it as “Wild Kitties” for Papi’s entertainment. He did not seem entertained.

I’m not sure why the song is playing in me. I can see how its themes and melody is about yearning for another time, for a different outcome, even for hope. I suppose that’s where I reside now — wishing for other things than what now exists. It also came out in 1971, when I was fifteen, so I suppose remembering the song stirs some nostalgia for being back there — young, with Mom, facing a bright future.

I’ll close with best wishes for you and us to stay safe, be healthy and find new ways toward a peaceful, prosperous, and inclusive future.

Cheers

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Twozdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

It’s a tale of two worlds. It’s the best of times, it’s the craziest of times. It’s a world defined by facts and reason where people come to share discourse about serious problems based on the evidence presented, and it’s a world where a powerful elected official shows serious problems with reality.

This makes it all hard to write. I want to rage about Trump’s insanity. But that’s the problem: he is sick. He should not be in a position of power. He should be retired to somewhere safe, where he can rest with medical care. Trump constantly trolled President Joe Biden as sleepy Joe, always claiming that President Biden was too old and feeble to be POTUS. Well, here we have an expanding body of empirical evidence that Trump’s grasp on reality is as thin and untenable as a cobweb.

Between his psychobabble Tylenol announcement, antifa EO, and his UN speech rife with falsehoods, Trump has blown out any perceptions that he shares the same reality as the great majority. Acting on some fabricated form of history and facts, he makes speeches, boasting about ending wars without naming them, claiming to save thousands of lives, chides others for being ignorant, oblivious to the ignorance which he displays. Whereas before, he was laughed at in his UN speech, this outing found a silent audience; they heard and saw how sick he is. Unless you’re Trump or a MAGAt, you don’t laugh at the sick. Yet, Trump probably saw and heard awe for how great he was. In his mind, they were silent with respect for how brilliant he is. That’s how disconnected he has become.

Tragically for U.S. citizens and the rest of the world, the GOP and Trump’s enablers gleefully go along with his madness. It serves their purpose for him to push his alternate reality unto everyone else and upend science, medicine, logic, truth, and history.

MAGAts seem too mired in their own hatred or alternate reality to raise their voices. This shows again and again through FAFO stories about how shocked they are to be victimized by the person and policies they support. They pretend Trump is religious, despite his history of conning, lying, cheating. They pretend he is fit and strong and muscular, even though pictures show an unhealthy, obese individual. They pretend to hear brilliant insights when he speaks, even when he incoherently rambles. They pretend that he’s religious, sent by God, although he’s committed adultery, paid for sex, has been indicted and convicted of crimes, and shuns the poor and sick while hoarding money.

Most of the wealthiest 1% seem addicted to greed and just keep grabbing whatever they can, regardless of what happens to the other 99% of the population. They’re just looking out for number one; number one is them.

Useful tools like former Fox News are broken individuals who like having attention, power, and position. They’re in over their heads and know it, but that’s okay, because Trump supports them. They’re all going for an ugly spin around the toilet bowl.

Project 2025 participants in Trump’s administration want to break the world. They’re the most dangerous, because they’re organized and serious. They want to create a crucible for cheap slave labor where the wealthy and powerful will flourish with little moral challenge to their ways. Where they can claim their one true god guides their cruelty, hatred, and bigotry. Where white men rule with a few exceptions as salve to prove to themselves they’re not racist, not sexist. They won’t be happy, nor satisfied. But they will be in power. In control.

Concerned only with themselves, bankrupt of morals and empathy, power and control are what they seek. They do not care who they hurt, who is used, or what laws are broken to do it. The ends justify the means in their minds.

This is nothing new. Acting on avarice, greed, and hate, others have peddled lies and misinformation to mislead otherwise good people in order to advance themselves. History shows that’s happened in the United States before. It’s easy to dupe people by drowning them with fake information, especially when it’s what they want to hear, and especially when the wealthiest control most of the media, and the wealthiest are willing to go along with the scheme. The difference now is that a deeply disturbed individual, Donald J. Trump, now commands them.

That is what we must face and overcome.

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Satyrdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

The headline misled me.

Biggest-Ever Black Hole With Mass Of 36 Billion Suns Discovered: ‘Cosmic Behemoth’

Naturally, I thought this was a political piece. I thought surely that they were referring to the Greedy Old Trump Party, commonly shortened to GOTP, or the Trump Regime as the biggest-black hole ever.

The GOTP used to be known as the GOP, or the ‘Grand Old Party’. But under Trump’s squeamish, heavy-handed leadership, the spineless GOP has become a seething unprincipled black hole of greed and avarice. A place where they decry pedophiles while protecting pedophiles, where they scream that they’re pro-life as they turn their heads from children dying. Truth and facts go in and get bent out of shape into lies and falsehoods. History morphs into a lopsided retelling of all the great things which white men did. The black hole’s idealogical forces twists intelligent discourse into childish mouthings.

The GOTP black hole is a time portal, trying to push the world back to a pretend time, which they fantasize was better for all because white men were in charge, and all knew and understood. They liked that time because industry and commerce were not hamstrung by regulations to keep employees, or air, water, and the earth safe. Only two sexes were recognized, and only one was respected. The weaker, fairer sex, aka ‘the female’, known to be emotionally charged and weak of mind, was conditioned to accept their place in the bedroom and in the kitchen, staying home to raise more slave labor. Other sexual choices were kept in the closet, done in darkness, never to be spoken of in daylight. Abuse of others was allowed as long as the perpetrator was wealthy, white, and male, or dutifully mouthed the appropriate platitudes and respected the power structure. Religion was settled as a Christian thing with malleable morality and loudly stated and often ignored values. Do your sentence at church every Sunday and feed your local house of worship some gold and trinkets and your soul was saved, freeing you for Saturday night debauchery and business day cruelty. “Nothing personal,” are the words they like to use. “It’s just business.” Greed was blessed by God.

Blacks knew not to get too uppity. Browns kept quiet and stayed to their side of town, as did ‘the Asians’. If necessary, a little police violence could be used to keep them in their place and protect the white man’s place. Sure, it might lead to a little tension and soul searching in the aftermath, but it could all be swept away by the whites, because they were writing history. Then all would be good again.

As for the rest, the poor and sick, put them to work in the fields and factories. Slave labor keeps prices down and profit margins up. Children are the best little workers because they’re too young and ignorant to protest or complain. They eat less so they can be paid less. Let them ‘pull themselves up with their own bootstraps’. Hard work is good for the soul.

Make a profit off every piece of human suffering and indignity. That’s what comes out of the Trump Regime black hole. Plate it with gold to make it shiny and increase its value. Only gold has value, you know.

That’s the Trump Regime. I don’t care what science declares. Trump and the GOTP don’t, so why should I? So I reiterate my position: the Trump Regime is the biggest black hole ever known. It’s the biggest black hole in the Universe. Hitler and his NAZIs, and several other dictators, have been close, but Trump is just getting started with his attacks on logic, humanity, science, education, history, and decency. He’ll prove that he’s the greatest, most beautiful black hole ever.

What’s most sickening is that Trump and the MAGAts think that’s the most wonderful title that can be won because their world has become so perverse and irrational. Sure, a few are learning otherwise that it’s not as great as they expected in episodes christianed FAFO, or ‘The Leopard Ate My Face’. But most MAGAts are so far into the black hole that truth, empathy, education, facts, and science can no longer reach them.

Maybe that’ll change someday, after the black hole turns on itself and is finally gone.

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Other Than That

I’m curious about life after death.

I’m curious about life before life. I’m curious about how life began. I’m curious about how our planet will end.

I’m curious about why we exist, if we exist.

I’m curious about reality.

I’m curious about what my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were like as children. I’m curious about how my ancestors came to the United States. I’m curious about their lives before then.

I’m curious about life on Mars and other planets. I’m curious about the nature of the universe, the nature of energy, the nature of time, and quantum physics.

I’m curious about what is faster than the speed of light and if we will ever find that out.

I’m curious about what life would be like on an atom.

I’m curious about Zeno’s Paradox and other paradoxes and thought experiments.

I’m curious about how technology affects our brains and societies.

I’m curious about what life was like on Earth three thousand years ago.

I’m curious about what we’ll be like in another thousand years.

I’m curious about the dark side of the moon and the far side of the galaxy.

I’m curious about Earth’s first years.

I’m curious about the psychology of people. I’m curious about why the wealthy and powerful want or need more wealth and power. I’m curious about what causes such hatred in some people and why anger and hatred drive people to kill others. I’m curious about why others can be so indifferent to people’s suffering and children starving.

I’m curious about what it is that makes some people so brilliant.

I’m curious about why I struggle to remember scientific words.

I’m curious about charisma.

I’m curious about how the human body works, and how animal bodies work, and fish and birds and plants.

I’m curious about what rocks think and remember.

I’m curious about why we need to sleep and why we dream.

I’m curious about what my dreams mean.

I’m curious about what my cats are thinking when they look at me.

I’m curious about what my wife is thinking, feeling, planning, and remembering. I’m curious about what she really thinks of me.

I’m curious about why art, music, and literature can move me so deeply.

I’m curious about why I like coffee so much.

I’m curious about why I and others are driven to write fiction and tell stories.

I’m curious about the truth behind our world history.

I’m curious about what happened to Atlantis and other ancient places and peoples.

I’m curious about mystery spots and the illusions behind them.

I’m curious about what makes some people so wildly successful while other talented people work hard and remain in the shadows.

I’m curious about fate and destiny and the future and the past.

I’m curious about what the first people who looked up and saw stars thought.

I’m curious about why, what, how, and when.

Other than that, I remain a pretty incurious person.

3

Sunda’s Wandering Thoughts

I baked for the Independence Day festivities. I’m not usually the house baker but my wife thought I should bake as a blow against the patriarchy. So bake I did.

My baking was the modern kind: a brownie mix, egg, oil, water. Everything except the water was purchased at a store. The water came from my faucet, part of our city’s water and sewage systems.

I made circular brownies with M&Ms in a silicon baking pan created for that job. We have a gas oven with a timer and all that. I added the ingredients into a bowl per directions, preheated the oven to the temperature they told me to use, and doled the rich concoction into the waiting little cups built into the silicon ‘pan’. Then, see the timer for the time the instructions recommended, wait, watch, and test to see if they’re done, using the honored toothpick test.

The process allowed a lot of free time thinking. And that becomes my point. Baking has been around about 10,000 years. The earliest evidence of baking comes from Egypt, and not the United States. While it may have started around the Meditarranean Sea, it grew. Many peoples, cultures, and societies contributed to its growth and the lessons learned in what works. Then they passed it on. People took it up, tweaeked and refined it, documented it, and passed it on. People from many religions and ethnicities had a hand in it. Men and women, along with people of less certain genders baked, regardless of their sexual orientation, regardless of nationality or religion, until we reached this point that baking is a well-refined and understood process, simplified enough that even a neophyte like me can gather stuff and bake.

Here is my real point, something the Trump Regime and its half-assed backward, racist, sexist supporters want to dismiss. We live in a world of developments built on the shoulders of others. We’ve stacked advances and helped consolidate, perpetuate, and spread the gains. Name an industry and explore it, and amazingly, you’ll probably discover that it wasn’t all done by white Christian American men. Now the Trumpettes want to pretend that no one except white Americans did anything worthwhile, especially in the United States to deliver the success we’ve achieved as a nation, trying to bestow as much credit as possible on men and Christianity, even if they need to lie to make their case, which they do.

America First! Hell, the United States wouldn’t exist without immigration — and shall we talk to the peoples who lived in North America before the waves of explorers, settlers, and armies ‘discovered’ the land mass? America First! Our form of democratic government is derived from other nations, as is our mercantile system, which also depends on other nations for success.

Trump’s willful, deliberate ignorance won’t stand, although it will do serious damage. Progress comes from unforeseen developments as much as planned advances. We don’t know who will make a critical, game-changing insight. Trump is trying to pretend otherwise. He can successfully fake it for a while, but eventually, his willful stupidity will bite us all in the ass.

As always, time will tell when and how. Meanwhile, we grit our teeth and resist his ignorance as best as we can.

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An Ode to Joni Ernst

Call up all your relatives,

Friends and enemies, too,

Joni Ernst says we’re dying

And there’s nothing we can do.

Fire off the nukes and rifles,

Set off the poison gas,

Joni says we’re dying,

So come on, get off your ass.

Eat what you want,

Drink as you feel,

Forget about taking all those vaccines,

Medicines,

And pills.

Don’t worry about crime and punishment,

What are they going to do?

Joni Ernst says we’re dying.

You know it must be true.

So stop saving for the future,

Or growing all those crops.

Stop making those payments

To banks and other slobs.

Don’t worry about paying taxes,

Nor going to work a job,

Joni Ernst says we’re dying,

Looks like it’s over and done.

1

The Mercedes Dream

My wife and I were traveling. Astonishment took me when I realized we were driving a light green 1978 Mercedes Benz 280 SEL. Solid, dependable, comfortable, the car was like a tank. “That’s the same car we had in Germany,” I told my wife.

She didn’t notice. We were rushing and had stopped for shopping at Costco. With dream time, we leaped from talking while entering the store to being at the checkout register. A male manager rang us up. We were still actually shopping as that happened, with my wife hustling up with last minute additions.

Medicine and food were being rung up. The manager was urging us to hurry because it was time to close. We were going to be the last ones. My wife put a bag of food our box of purchases. Picking it up, I told the guy that we wanted another one, so ring it up again, and I told my wife to get one more. As she carried that up, the manager rang up the final bill: $610.

The total shocked us. I suggested putting things back and wondered how the total had become so high. Nothing expensive was in the box and there wasn’t a lot.

But we ended up saying, “Okay, let’s just pay and go because time is running out. We need to get on the road.”

End of dream.

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Saturda’s Wandering Thoughts

Just a pause to say that I’m grateful.

I’m grateful that the medical profession has developed the knowledge, insights, and treatment for what ailed me.

I’m grateful for a medical team who guided me safely through weeks of pain through surgery and recovery.

I’m grateful that I have a house where I can take a shower, and I’m grateful for the society, civilization, and people that built the systems which enabled me to take a hot, long shower this morning.

I’m grateful that I can walk normally again, free of pain.

There’s a lot to be grateful for in my life. I’ve always been pretty fortunate. I’ve taken a lot of it for granted. So, I thought this needed to be noted. I am grateful. I may not always sound like I am, but that’s just my nature.

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

After taking some meds, he learned again that if some is good, more isn’t always better. The rule of moderation was proven again. The question for everyone, with everything, was always, what constitutes moderation? Difficulty comes because it changes with age, health, and circumstances. Re-consideration and adjustments are often required.

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