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 |  Where am I going, and why am I in this handbasket? |
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Fair Warning: I've upped the rating on this blog. It is now set at GC. |
| Where to begin? Well, the local news has been grabbing national headlines as of late, so maybe I’ll start there, but what do you lead with? …illegal immigrants, or strippers. This seems to be the same problem the local paper is having. Two scandalous stories, but only one of them involves a graphic video! Well, I’m going to buck the trend and lead off will the illegal immigrants. 81 workers were arrested when federal agents raided a local Plant that makes little plastic squeeze tubes for lotions and such. The Plant is claiming that all the allegedly illegal workers were placed through a temp agency. They are not the employer or the responsible party. If anything, they are victims!!! So they say… Now, here is my issue, this business has made some promises to the community which has gone unfulfilled. Back in 1999 they opened for business with the help of a 3.6 million economic development package from the state. They were given all kinds of tax incentives and low interest loans. In return they promised to bring to the area 160 new jobs within the first three years. Fast forward a few years and the Plant gets a $660,000 low-interest loan from the Pennsylvania Industrial Development Authority to expand. Fast forward still further and guess what… just last month the county commissioners approved a $3.7 million dollar loan for the Plant to purchase new equipment. Sooo…. For all the economic development money poured into this Plant, what has been given back to the community? Rather than hire employees with good wages and benefits they brought in an illegal workforce through a temp agency. But they’d still have me believe that the folks running this plant are the victims. Alright, enough about that… let’s get to the sex part… A local golf course closed yesterday for a charity golf event to raise money for disabled vets. This would be pretty boring stuff except for the strippers and lap-dances on the fairways. There is a long standing feud over the ownership of the road that leads back to the golf course, and when the road was closed it pissed off the people who live along the road. A nineteen year old, who lives on the road, saw what was going on, and shot video which he then uploaded onto the internet. He is quoted in the paper saying “we saw strippers.” The local paper is providing intense media coverage and they’ve posted “graphic footage” from the video on their website. A police investigation is underway, but it is unclear at this time whether any crime was committed. I think the story is getting a ridiculous amount of coverage (yep, obviously I’m guilty of this too for including it in my blog) because it involves: 1. A Sex Video Yeah, okay, I’ll give you the link to the bit of footage posted on the newspaper’s site, but I have not been able to find the video in its entirety. Some of you may be disappointed by how “non graphic” the footage really is. Apparently "sexing it up" doesn't make golf any more interesting. http://poconorecord.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070627/NEWS/706270339 2. Fabulous sexual innuendos and punchlines...  FORE play Hole in One Lap Dances by the ball washer 18 holes followed by a nice spread back at the club Looks like he’s gonna use his wood.…you get the idea. 3. Did I mention the sex video? On the bright side, none of the strippers were illegal workers.  |
| Well, I was busy, busy busy at work today, but it is nice to know the administrator still has a sense of humor. One of the folks we serve needs a place to stay temporarily and we've got a group home that just so happens to have a temporary opening. Sounds like a match made in heaven right? Well, it does to me, but the problem is that there are three steps up to the front door and this woman is 72 years old and very unsteady. She needs a ramp. Well, it makes me long for the old days when you could throw a thick piece of plywood over the steps and call it a ramp, but since it is a licensed group home, that'd probably be frowned upon. So, I started calling around looking for a supply company that might be willing to rent us a portable wheelchair ramp for the duration. I break out the phone book and work my way through the short list of relevant listings. The second number is a 1-800 number, but the address is local. This is good. I call. "Hello baby," purrs the sultry voice on the other end, "I've been waiting for your call." Huh? As the voice goes on to describe how hot and wet she is, I glance down at my phone display to make sure I didn't accidentally dial a 1-900 number. I hang up before she explains what she wants to do to me. Oh yes, she wanted me BAD.  Now what? I scoop up my phone book and go over to the office next door. "Hey, I need some help. Would you mind calling these people to see if they have portable ramps that we can rent?" Muwhahahahaha So later I'm talking to our Administrator because the boss is out this week. She asked if I'd had any luck finding a ramp. I told her the only people I'd been able to get a hold of were the hard working ladies at the 1-800 Phone sex line. "Well?" she asked. "Do they have ramps?" "Uh... not that we want to rent!" Turns out I've got a 2004 phone book in my office. I guess it's time to recycle it! |
| I feel as though I am training to become an elite mediocre spy in some sort of clandestine organization. The mission… “Once you have procured the disk, you must bring it to the designated coordinates at 8:05 AM on 27 June. Ask for “Sunshine.” She will be the one in the cream cardigan, complaining about the cold. Wear shorts. Bring the disk and $70 in unmarked, non-sequential bills.” Yes, as you might have guessed, I’ve managed to wrangle my follow up appointment with the orthopedist. They made a slight billing error in my favor at the last visit and charged a $10 co-pay instead of the “specialist” co-pay of $40. I can only hope they’ll be as quick to set my knee to rights! Changing topics… I had to laugh as I read Mavis Moog   ’s blog this morning, in which she talked about her husband’s plan to use a heavy weight to toss an aerial cable over the roof. This is an idea my husband would have! Maybe it is just a man thing, because I remember my father coming up with a couple of these gems over the years as well. Take for example, Dad’s tree removal technique. This technique involved tossing a weighted rope up over a high branch and then tossing it back from the other side so that the rope is around the tree. The next step involves having someone, often my husband, pull the rope in order to “direct the fall.” “I’m gonna start the chainsaw. Why don’t you grab the rope and tie it around your waist. Just keep pulling it your way so we keep it off the wires.” What could possible go wrong? Then there is my husband… The time we couldn’t disconnect the washing machine hose, he devised a brilliant plan. “If I knock on the connection with the hammer that should loosen it up.” Possibly, but more likely it will break the seal in the joint just above the shut off valve so that we have to shut off water for the entire house. Yep, that’s what happened. Fortunately, the nice man from the emergency plumbing service was kind enough to impart this bit of wisdom… “Never hit your pipes with a hammer.” Oh yes, and then there was the time that my husband attempted to update the wiring in our bathroom and installed a Ground Fault Circuit Interrupter (GFCI). It successfully interrupted the flow of power to the bathroom in a seemingly permanent way. We ended up with a table lamp perched on the vanity next to the sink plugged into an extension cord that ran down the hallway. The whole point of that exercise was to try to avoid being electrocuted in my bathroom, and instead we increased the likelihood of it happening by a factor of at least 6. After a couple months of tempting the fates, I called an electrician who came out to the house and corrected the problem by simply pressing the reset button on the GFCI. Tony’s attempts to install that GFCI precisely alligned with the 2003 blackout that crippled New York City and much of the Northeast. I suppose it could have been coincidental. My point? Some people just aren’t the “do it yourself” type. |
| Finally... a quiet night! My children are both sleeping over at my mother's house tonight and so my husband and I have the computer, TV, and entire house to ourselves. I had my MRI on Friday evening. It was a complete success. The rod in my leg was enough below the knee joint that it did not cause any scatter or distortion. When I was done, I was asked to have a seat and wait while they burned the file to CD for me. I sat down facing the bank of curtained changing rooms in the waiting area, and tried to find some diversion. An elderly gentleman tugged at his burgundy gown and shifted uneasily in his chair. There was another woman flipping restlessly through a magazine. Another gowned man walked in and went into a changing room. When he pulled the curtain closed, he pulled it too much in one direction leaving a sizable gap directly in my line of sight. He did not turn back toward the curtain, but dropped the gown and then bent to retrieve his own clothes. Unfortunately he wasn't wearing anything under the gown.  So I spent a few uncomfortable minutes averting my eyes, and was very gratefully when the technician returned and handed me the CD.  In other news, we took my daughter to the music store this weekend and bought her a bass guitar and an amp. It is something she has been wanting for a very long time. While I might have ordinarily pointed out that Christmas is only six months away, I think that having and practicing an instrument over the summer will be a positive thing for her. While in the music store her brother tried to convince me to get him a drum set. I held the line there. If he continues to express an interest in drums over the next few months, I would have to think about it, but I think he was just impressed by all those shiny cymbals! Both of those kids love music though, so I won't be surprised if he continues to ask for drums. Hope you all had a good weekend and I'll try to catch up with your blogs soon! |
| Ya know how when a ship is going down all the rats run up to the highest decks to survive? Rats have fierce survival instincts. Some of them will jump into the ocean and attempt to cling to whatever flotsam may be in the water in hopes that the current will carry them somewhere. At least that's the way I've seen it happen in the movies. Well today I'm feeling like a rat up high on the deck. For now I'm not in danger, but I've got this slow sinking feeling and I'm watching the other rats jump ship around me. Those with enough time in are opting for retirement. Those who are new are cutting their losses. Those that are left are trying to decide whether we'll ride the ship to the bottom or jump. Last week another caseworker resigned (thankfully not one of mine), and the manner in which she resigned had disgruntled written all over it. She was scheduled to be on vacation for the last two weeks in June, so she gave notice last Wednesday saying June 30th would be her last day. So, last Friday was her last day in the office and topping it all off, her supervisor was on vacation last week. As the department head put it "I guess she showed us." On the heels of that, a program coordinator in the office resigned. Mike's move wasn't a surprise, but it left us in a very bad place. None of us are in a position to absorb his work load. Yep, we are good and screwed. Also, there is a consumer advocate who has decided that our agency is a "crime organization." He started off as an educational advocate, but somehow branched out and decided to target our agency with a series of actions that can only be described as harassment. He is taking full credit for Mike's resignation and vows that he will not rest until he runs us all out of our jobs. I know this man has a lot of issues and that he is feeding his own mental illness and need to be the center of attention, but give me a break. He wants to get together a group of people to file a case action suit against our department. He parks his truck outside our buildings entrance with a big sign in the window that reads "IF YOUR CHILD HAS A DISABILITY AND YOU'VE BEEN DENIED SERVICES BY THIS AGENCY CALL...." and gives his name and number. He is working the case managers looking for someone who he might turn into a whistle blower who will give him the inside story on all the agency dysfunction. As one of the case managers said "But there's nothing to blow!" Agency dysfunction? Well, God knows we've got plenty of that, but we are a group of people trying to provide the necessary services to people in need, and doing the best we can with limited resources. So sue us! Oh wait... that's his plan.  Well, I don't know where things are headed, but I'm gonna go see if I can find myself a little rat sized life jacket. One way or another I think I'm gonna end up in the water. Tony has all his required post doc. hours and is completing the application for licensing. He hopes to take the exam at the end of August which means he could be licensed by mid September. I'm hoping he'll land a good job after that... elsewhere. **** Just occurred to me that this advocate gone wrong would make a great character in a novel. Maybe in a book I could kill him off and make it a mystery. Imagine the list of suspects! |
| Well folks I had my appointment with the Orthopedist today and I must admit that I am a terrible patient. I was poked, prodded and posed (for x-rays) until my knee was throbbing and I was well… cranky. The Doctor decided that I need an MRI. I was sent to “checkout” where I had to stand around for 20 minutes waiting my turn only to be given four more pages of paperwork. The paperwork asked wonderful questions like “What does the doctor think is wrong?” and asked me to diagram my knee to indicate where it hurts. By now? Mostly around my temples. GRRRR. After finishing the paperwork I hand it back to Sunshine , and noted the look of concern on her face. “You have a tibial rod?” “Yep, and four screws.” I’m so proud of my hardware. It makes me feel like the Bionic woman. Is that a titanium rod in your leg or are you just happy to see me? Well guess what? They can’t do an MRI on ya if you’re packing metal without the express written consent of the Doc who put the metal in ya. GRRRR. So I pay my get out of jail fee and limp out the door. Bastard didn’t even prescribe any pain killers. I should have had them charged with false imprisonment. Three hours and only 4 phone calls later I have the original surgeon’s blessing to have an MRI along with a skeptical “Good luck to them.” Apparently the metal is going to cause “scattering” on the MRI that will make the image unreadable. “Great. Whatever. Can ya put that in writing and fax it?” “No problem.” Back to Sunshine who pulls said fax off the machine with a short lived sense of triumph. Oh! Hold the presses! There MRI imaging center does not participate in my insurance. I will have to go to a different MRI imaging center across the town. GRRRR So that is where we stand. Sunshine kindly offered to set up the appointment for me and will call me with the time and date (and hopefully the location). Chances are pretty good that the MRI will be unreadable and the next step will be exploratory surgery. On the bright side, the doctor believes this is a new injury that is totally unrelated to any prior damage. So there ya go, and I promise to move on to another subject tomorrow. |
| Since I am going in to have my leg examined tomorrow, I took some time tonight to make sure my legs were depilitated , exfoliated, and hydrated to the fullest extent possible given the current limitations of science. Not sure why it matters, but if some stranger is going to be handling and examining my legs I want them to be in tip-top form (with the obvious exception of the malady for which I'm seeking treatment.) I wonder if the Doctor weighs this bit of information in to the equation. I wonder if the thought crosses Doc's minds. "How much pain can she really be in? If she went to all this trouble... how badly can it really hurt?" Vanity is a terrible burden! And to think, I always thought of myself low maintenance. Perhaps I should have my head examined next! Maybe... but first I must go polish my toes. |
| My mother-in-law is a rather insistent sort. We spent last evening at her house along with my sister-in-law and her family. She is a nurse by profession and it did not take her long to notice that I was limping. I explained to her that I'd woken up with pain in my left leg during the week, and that it had been troubling me ever since. She offered me an ice pack which I declined. A half an hour later she noticed that I was still limping and asked "what did you do to yourself?" I explained again that I hadn't done anything in particular to account for the pain. "I think you must have hurt it gardening," she said decisively and she again offered an ice pack. About another half hour passes and I notice my mother-in-law looking at the scar on my knee. "The leg that hurts," she asked "is it the same one you broke?" "Yes." "Do you think this is related to the break?" "Yes." "Didn't you break your ankle though?" "No, I broke both bones in the lower leg." "Why did they do surgery on your knee then?" Yep, it is official, my MIL hasn't been paying attention to anything I've said or done in the past 13 years. "Well, they went in through the knee to insert the rod. It runs the length of the leg down to the ankle." My MIL fixes me with a look of horror "Is that the standard treatment for that kind of break?" I wanted to tell her no. "No Ma'am, they sat around and thought up something especially hideous just for me. Most folks just get a cast and a pair of crutches, but they didn't care for the way I was eyeballing the Doctor. Guess they showed me!" ...but I didn't tell her that. I told her that yes, that was the standard treatment, and she again offered me an ice pack. Today I called an Orthopedist and I've got an appt. for Wednesday morning. Last time I talked to an Orthopedist about 4 years back, I was told that there were issues with the hardware and that I had screws backing out. I'm pretty well expecting that on Wednesday they'll confirm that I've definitely got a screw loose. I told my boss today that my job had become bad enough that surgery was looking like a relatively attractive alternative to coming in to work everyday! I say that, but I hate the thought of them taking that hardware out. I imagine it would be a pretty awful procedure. I'll just have to wait and see what the Doctor says. In the meantime, I know where to get an ice pack if I need one. |
| Happy Father's Day to the all the Dads out there! Can't help but think about my father on this day. I am very fortunate to have had such a great Dad. I had some opportunities to travel with my father... just he and I. When I was 14, I accompanied him to a professional conference up in Buffalo, New York. Buffalo is a wonderful City in July, and we happened to be there for the "Taste of Buffalo" festival. It was then that we discovered Buffalo wings and it would be years before we would taste them again. My father loved sight seeing, and was fun to travel with. We walked all over Buffalo admiring the gargoyles on the buildings and watching the yachts come and go from the slips on Lake Erie. We took a day to drive up to Niagara Falls, but it was disappointing. The mists rising up from the falls obscured the view entirely. I really wanted to go across to the Canadian side of the falls, but my Father did not want to be troubled with a border crossing. Four years later we took another trip. This time we flew out to Seattle for another conference. I fell in love with Seattle! The green islands dotted the waters and Mt. Ranier glistened white in the distance. We again did the tourist bit visiting the Pike Market Place almost everyday to watch the famous fish tossing. We feasted on steamed clams, but passed on the Space Needle. This trips have always rated high among my memories of Dad. I can honestly say that prior to our trips, Dad had always been the quieter and somewhat more mysterious half of "Mom'nDad." I did not really know what he did and I did not really know him outside the context of our family. It was an eye opener to see him moving in the circles of his professional peers and to travel with him... to explore a city with him and see the sites through his eyes. He was extremely observant. He had a knack for finding things because he was tuned in to what was around him. In Buffalo he found a leather coin purse with slots to sort the coins by types. If there had been any ID on it, he'd have tried to return it to its owner, but there was nothing. He decided it must have belonged to an older man an probably held the change he used to take the Street Car through the downtown. He kept that coin purse for the rest of his years. I found it in his office when we were going through his things after he'd passed away. Enough of the past... In honor of father's day I thought I'd post a picture of my daughter with her Daddy. The picture was taken at a picnic last summer. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Of course now that child is 5'2" tall and I don't see Daddy offering quite so many piggy back rides. A years makes quite a difference. |
| Today I was off work for Flag Day. One of the perks of being a county employee is that we have off on Flag Day when the rest of the world is hard at work. I'd like to say that seized the day and did lots of wonderful stuff, but I didn't. I'm still a bit under the weather and so I'm taking it easy. I did accomplish something today. I picked out my next car. I'll be getting it tomorrow and I'm pretty happy about it. It is a used car. I wasn't sure if I would buy another used car or whether I'd bite the bullet and buy new. I decided on a low mileage used car that will allow me to live a few more years without car payments. Also today, I watched some TV. Have I mentioned my loathing of the media? I loath the advertisers, the investigative journalists, and the "behind the scenes" coverage. Half the time they're filling my head with warm and fuzzy illusions about the world, and half of the time they are shattering those same cherished illusions. A girl just can't get a break. On the Discovery Channel there is a program called "How it's Made." It is a relatively interesting peek at how many everyday items are manufactured set to riveting 3rd grade film strip music. Ah yes! Remember the third grade film strip? Remember when the best job in the classroom was to be the kid who got to sit next to the projector and advance the film frame by frame with each cheery "DING!" on the companion cassette? Now what the heck was I writing about? Oh, Todays episode covered two products. First I watched how a violin is made. Interesting, and reassuringly non-automated. Next, they get to the toilet paper. First... they start off with huge vats of junk mail and other paper to be recycled. They cook it down to a very unappealing pulpy soup and so on and so forth until they are cutting and wrapping the individual rolls. Here the problem. At no point in the production process did they show the quilters!!! You know the ones... those bespectacled women who sit around on clouds quilting designs into the super soft 2-ply toilet tissue. It would seem as though the poor animated dears have all been layed-off and replaced with an embossing machine. Heavens to Betsy! What is this world coming to? Next thing you know they're gonna tell me that cookies aren't baked in a tree using Elfin magic. |
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