The Kantonsspital in Luzern was not unknown to me. I had been there to visit friends and to have an outpatient skin surgery in the past. I had already pre-admitted myself, so there wasn't much to do except go up to the Urology Floor. The head nurse greeted us, and I found that between the staff's English and my less than perfect German, we had no communication problems. I was admitted on a Tuesday for surgery the following AM. Dr. Mattei had told me that he does the robotics once daily, begins as the first case, and uses a dedicated team. Those were all important points for me. Blood work, chest x-ray, and EKG took up the afternoon. There were about 5 patients on the floor for surgery the next day, so we all traveled in a group to the various labs. A good night enema was the final prep. Before that, one of the nurses came in and gave me a detailed discussion of what would take place after the operation. The anesthesia doc and the professor of the department also came by to discuss his part of the following day. He laughed when I told him the last general anesthesia that I had was a tonsillectomy under open drop ether when I was in the third grade. Dr. Mattei also paid me a visit. Evertone from lab techs to Dr. Mattei wanted to know if I had any questions. I did not.
I slept well but was awake when Barbara arrived shortly after 6 AM. Anyone who knows Barbara will be assured that she loves me if she rose at such an hour. Shortly afterward, I left to go to the pre-op room. I had not received any pre-op meds until that point. An IV was started, and the anesthesia doc told me that he was going to put in an arterial line. Evidently, somebody turned out the lights then, because I knew nothing until about 8 hours later when I awoke in the post-anesthesia recovery room. The first thing that I did was to run my hand over my abdomen to see what sort of dressing I had. Any robotic procedure can be aborted and converted to an open procedure if conditions require this. I only had five band aid type dressings, so I knew that the robot had done its deed. I then became quite aware of a significant pain in my right hip and thigh. I had no other pain at all, but this was a real dilly. I had a pain pump hooked up to me that did a fine job, and because of the hip and leg, it got a pretty good workout. I stayed in this area almost 24 hours. It was not Heaven, but the nurses were angels that helped me turn and every so often rubbed my back with ice cold towels. That may not sound great, but it was just what I needed. I remember the doctor coming in. He later told me that he had been worried about me because I took so long to wake up. Truth be told, I had been awake but zonked out on the pain meds. The hip and thigh were the problem, and no one seemed to get the big picture. I went back to my room about 24 hours after awakening but stayed fogged out because I was pushing that little button on the pain pump every two hours.
Of course, I had a catheter in, but that didn't seem to bother me like a lot of others had reported. I was drinking as much water as they asked, and other than the first day, I saw no blood in the bag.. They stopped the pain pump the next day, and all of a sudden, I was hungry. One must be aware that the food in this hospital was good! Each day, I got a choice for breakfast that included any thing one could wish.For lunch and dinner, one got three menus from which to choose each time. By Friday morning, I was up and ready to eat. It was a shock when I sat up on the side of the bed to eat. My right leg shot up like a chorus girl kicks. I could not bend my knee because all those muscles were out. I had not noted this while lying down, but unless I took the left leg and held it down against the right, the leg stood straight out. The doctor was in at least daily, and when he saw this, he got the PT folks up to see me. In the meantime, I was up to sit in a chair a lot. Walking was another matter, as my right knee was not very stable. I made my own diagnosis of neurpraxia and all agreed that this seemed to be the case. The PT brought me a walker with which I could manage quite well. I knew that neurpraxia is usually a benign injury, and time would be my best friend. Later that day, I walked in the hall a bit. The Dr. Mattei came in and spoke in detail to Barbara and I about the surgery, what was done, and why it took about twice as long as the usual. He was to be off for the weekend, and asked if I would like to go home until Monday. Sweeter words I had not heard in some time, so I grabbed at the chance. I would have to come back on Monday to have a cystogram, and if it looked good, the catheter could come out. The nurses outfitted me with bags, etc. for the catheter, gave me instructions, and urged me to call if I had a problem.
One must understand that no matter how nice the hospital, home looks great. It did! There were no problems other than a leaky catheter bag which was replaced by my local urologist on a Saturday afternoon. Monday was to be the big day for the catheter removal. That was OK with me. Catheters can be downright convenient though. Looking for a bathroom is mostly only for a place to empty the bag. Nevertheless, I was looking forward to Monday.
We were there early on, a resident took me back, did the cysto, saw no leak, removed the catheter, and I was ready to go to the floor for one more night. Apparently, a lot of men have trouble with frequency that first night, so they are asked to stay close. Dr. Mattei came around that evening and was amazed that I had had no problems of any sort, was voiding normally, and met him in the hall. We had a chat, and he asked when I would like to go home. I told him "right now". I called Barbara to come and get me. He signed me out, gave some meds, and I was on my way. Other than the rare complication of the neurpraxia (which was rapidly improving), the robot was a piece of cake.
27 November 2009
21 November 2009
Prostates, modesty, and other things-part one
A few of you readers know that I had an operation this summer. In the Spring, I found an elevated blood level of something known as prostate specific antigen (PSA). I have measured this for some years, and this time it was above normal by about twice the level of last year. So, it was time to investigate. I went from my family doc to a nice German Urologist in a nearby city. The upshot of that was that a biopsy was done at eight points in my prostate. By that time, I had been investigated with a repeat PSA that was still elevated and a DRE (digital rectal exam) commonly known as a "finger wave". The biopsy showed that I had PC (prostatic cancer). I should say that way back in my training years I had spent three nice months on the urology service in Memphis. I enjoyed urology because I had some mighty good staff men who let me do a lot. Prostatic cancer (PC) is a common thing in older men, so I never really felt the shock that people feel with the word "cancer". There are various ways to treat PC. Surgery, radiation, hormone therapy, what is called active surveillance, and sometimes a combination of these and other modalities. It has been said that all men will get PC if they live long enough but few will die from it.
It so happened that an old partner of mine has a son who is an urologist in the USA. We had been together earlier in the year when I was in the USA, and he had related that the son was doing a new procedure on the prostate using robotics. Now my experience doing open prostatectomies in past years had led me to believe that open prostatectomies were brutal and bloody. The fact that robotics had taken all that away was interesting, and it became even more interesting when I found out that I had PC. The doctors all went over my treatment options with me, but I knew that the robotic way was going to be what I wanted. The mentality of a surgeon is to cut it out, if it is cancer. Enter here the Internet. An unbelievable amount of information is available about PC there, and I began to research robotic assisted laproscopic prostatectomies (RALP). I also decided that I would feel more at home in a Swiss hospital than back in the USA, so I went on the hunt for one close to me. A little less than a year before I got the diagnosis, the Luzernerkantonsspital in Luzern had added a new man to their urology staff who was trained in RALP. I checked him and his credentials out on the Internet and even read some of his papers which he had published. He looked like the guy for me, so the local urologist called and set me up with an appointment with this doctor. Dr. Mattei turned out to be a super nice guy who answered most of my questions before I could ask them. He didn't mind telling me the straight scoop about his training, number of procedures done, good and not so good points about the operation, etc.
I signed on to meet the robot with him as soon as it could be done. That turned out to be a good 5 weeks later. The interval is needed because after biopsies are done, the prostate must return to normal before the robotic surgery can be done safely. The month of June and first week of July went slowly, but the time gave me a chance to study more on what was going to happen. I found some well done podcasts on the Internet to watch the operation, and I read about patients that had had this done. The RALP is truly a fascinating method of removing a prostate and its associated structures. The patient is under anesthesia on an operating table. The robotic machine is fixed in position over him, five or six arms of the robot are inserted into the abdomen through small openings (band aid size), and the surgeon sits across the room at a computer console. The surgeon uses movements with two fingers of each hand to manipulate the arms of the robot. The computer dampens down his movements so they are far more precise that with a human hand. The whole thing is seen through a 3-D camera with a great light source and 10x magnification. Watch a podcast if you want to see more. After the surgery, a catheter remains in the bladder for 3-4 days, but the patient often leaves the hospital the next day. Two or three ounces of blood loss is the average opposed to 8-10 times that with open prostatectomies.
When the big day on 8 July arrived, I was more than ready. The Luzern hospital is less than 30 minutes drive from home, so we were there in plenty of time on the day of admission. More will follow.
It so happened that an old partner of mine has a son who is an urologist in the USA. We had been together earlier in the year when I was in the USA, and he had related that the son was doing a new procedure on the prostate using robotics. Now my experience doing open prostatectomies in past years had led me to believe that open prostatectomies were brutal and bloody. The fact that robotics had taken all that away was interesting, and it became even more interesting when I found out that I had PC. The doctors all went over my treatment options with me, but I knew that the robotic way was going to be what I wanted. The mentality of a surgeon is to cut it out, if it is cancer. Enter here the Internet. An unbelievable amount of information is available about PC there, and I began to research robotic assisted laproscopic prostatectomies (RALP). I also decided that I would feel more at home in a Swiss hospital than back in the USA, so I went on the hunt for one close to me. A little less than a year before I got the diagnosis, the Luzernerkantonsspital in Luzern had added a new man to their urology staff who was trained in RALP. I checked him and his credentials out on the Internet and even read some of his papers which he had published. He looked like the guy for me, so the local urologist called and set me up with an appointment with this doctor. Dr. Mattei turned out to be a super nice guy who answered most of my questions before I could ask them. He didn't mind telling me the straight scoop about his training, number of procedures done, good and not so good points about the operation, etc.
I signed on to meet the robot with him as soon as it could be done. That turned out to be a good 5 weeks later. The interval is needed because after biopsies are done, the prostate must return to normal before the robotic surgery can be done safely. The month of June and first week of July went slowly, but the time gave me a chance to study more on what was going to happen. I found some well done podcasts on the Internet to watch the operation, and I read about patients that had had this done. The RALP is truly a fascinating method of removing a prostate and its associated structures. The patient is under anesthesia on an operating table. The robotic machine is fixed in position over him, five or six arms of the robot are inserted into the abdomen through small openings (band aid size), and the surgeon sits across the room at a computer console. The surgeon uses movements with two fingers of each hand to manipulate the arms of the robot. The computer dampens down his movements so they are far more precise that with a human hand. The whole thing is seen through a 3-D camera with a great light source and 10x magnification. Watch a podcast if you want to see more. After the surgery, a catheter remains in the bladder for 3-4 days, but the patient often leaves the hospital the next day. Two or three ounces of blood loss is the average opposed to 8-10 times that with open prostatectomies.
When the big day on 8 July arrived, I was more than ready. The Luzern hospital is less than 30 minutes drive from home, so we were there in plenty of time on the day of admission. More will follow.
20 November 2009
The New American Football
I was born and grew up with SEC college football. I was educated at The University of Tennessee, so I have orange blood in my veins. I have always said that SEC football beats hockey by miles and is exceeded only, sometimes, by bull fighting. Well, this Fall is the first in over ten years when I have had the chance to see live college football. I owe this to my 13 year old grandson, Peter, who I suspect one day may be an ESPN reporter. Anyway, Peter clued me in about ESPN 360, and I subscribed. For a few Swiss Francs a month, I get more college football live and archived than I can watch in a week. Some things have changed!
I know this sounds like an old man, but I am an old man. Growing up in high school and college, as well as 25 years living in the USA, I watched a lot of football live and on TV. The quarterback was the smartest guy on the team. He knew all the plays and led the squad. Each team member depended on him to tell them the upcoming plays, so they knew what they were to do. Today, it seems that the game is run by the assistant coaches and the head man. Most of this done while the assistants are sitting in the boxes high above the stadium talking into radio headsets to the head coach down on the sideline. He keeps a paper of some sort in front of his face so the lip readers in the area cannot tell what he is saying. Guys along the sideline with him then give all sorts of hand signals to different members of the team on the field. Before the ball is snapped, the team all stops and turns to the sideline to get instructions.
Football equipment has steadily changed over the years much to the well being of the players. Helmet design is a lot safer, as are the other pieces of equipment that players wear. Shoulder and hip pads were long time standards. Today, a lot of players look like they are in full body armor. They even wear gloves. They still seem to have a lot of injuries. I wonder if this isn't because they are so well padded that they can hit each other much harder. When an injury happens, it usually isn't terrible, but there are a lot of bad knees and shoulders in these player's futures. If your CAT scan and/or MRI scan looks OK, then you will likely be in the next game's lineup.
It took me a few views before I realized that some of the players did not have a real shag carpet hanging out from under their helmets. Some of these players are immense and yet still very quick on their feet. In my day, a lot of the team weighed at or near 200 pounds. Today, that is considered light unless you play quarterback or kicker. Three hundred pounds and 6-plus feet tall are the rule. Frequently, I feel like a spectator watching in the amphitheater, as the gladiators duke it out.
Maybe, I have this all wrong. Football is still a great sport, but I fear that the culture has left me a bit out of date.
I know this sounds like an old man, but I am an old man. Growing up in high school and college, as well as 25 years living in the USA, I watched a lot of football live and on TV. The quarterback was the smartest guy on the team. He knew all the plays and led the squad. Each team member depended on him to tell them the upcoming plays, so they knew what they were to do. Today, it seems that the game is run by the assistant coaches and the head man. Most of this done while the assistants are sitting in the boxes high above the stadium talking into radio headsets to the head coach down on the sideline. He keeps a paper of some sort in front of his face so the lip readers in the area cannot tell what he is saying. Guys along the sideline with him then give all sorts of hand signals to different members of the team on the field. Before the ball is snapped, the team all stops and turns to the sideline to get instructions.
Football equipment has steadily changed over the years much to the well being of the players. Helmet design is a lot safer, as are the other pieces of equipment that players wear. Shoulder and hip pads were long time standards. Today, a lot of players look like they are in full body armor. They even wear gloves. They still seem to have a lot of injuries. I wonder if this isn't because they are so well padded that they can hit each other much harder. When an injury happens, it usually isn't terrible, but there are a lot of bad knees and shoulders in these player's futures. If your CAT scan and/or MRI scan looks OK, then you will likely be in the next game's lineup.
It took me a few views before I realized that some of the players did not have a real shag carpet hanging out from under their helmets. Some of these players are immense and yet still very quick on their feet. In my day, a lot of the team weighed at or near 200 pounds. Today, that is considered light unless you play quarterback or kicker. Three hundred pounds and 6-plus feet tall are the rule. Frequently, I feel like a spectator watching in the amphitheater, as the gladiators duke it out.
Maybe, I have this all wrong. Football is still a great sport, but I fear that the culture has left me a bit out of date.
28 June 2009
Mr. Jones
I could swear that I have written about Mr. Jones before, but I am getting old. Anyway, Mr. Jones was a patient of my dad's and worked in Jackson, TN for the Illinois Central railroad as an engineer (he drove trains). I must have been about four years old when my dad came home from work one day and took me to the IC station. Mr. Jones had asked him if he thought that I would like to ride in the engine with him when The Seminole (a famous train of the day that came through every other day on the way from Chicago to New Orleans (I think)). The engine had to go to the yard to get more coal and water in Jackson, and it was that trip that I made more than once sitting in Mr. Jones ' lap.
Oh My!! Was that a treat or what? It was a combination of several things, excitement, fear, and a treat too. The steam engines of the day were hot, noisy, hissing, and lots of other things that awed a four year old. We sat on the left of the boiler with a firebox underneath. The fireman, who in those days was as far as a black made in the rail business, was constantly shoveling coal from the coal car into the hellish firebox to keep the steam up. There were a variety of valves, wheels, etc. that had to be manipulated too. Then there was the whistle! It seemed about to blow me out of the cab, but Mr. Jones would let me pull the lever. We made the trip to the yard and back as often as my dad could take me, and I have never forgotten the smell of that burning coal.
One day close to the time that Mr. Jones was to retire, he came through town on The City of Miami which had become diesel powered. He pushed me up into the cab. It was clean and cool. The horn sounded like a horn and not a whistle. I didn't know that I was seeing the end of an era. Had it not ended, I wonder if I would not have been an engineer like Mr. Jones.
Oh My!! Was that a treat or what? It was a combination of several things, excitement, fear, and a treat too. The steam engines of the day were hot, noisy, hissing, and lots of other things that awed a four year old. We sat on the left of the boiler with a firebox underneath. The fireman, who in those days was as far as a black made in the rail business, was constantly shoveling coal from the coal car into the hellish firebox to keep the steam up. There were a variety of valves, wheels, etc. that had to be manipulated too. Then there was the whistle! It seemed about to blow me out of the cab, but Mr. Jones would let me pull the lever. We made the trip to the yard and back as often as my dad could take me, and I have never forgotten the smell of that burning coal.
One day close to the time that Mr. Jones was to retire, he came through town on The City of Miami which had become diesel powered. He pushed me up into the cab. It was clean and cool. The horn sounded like a horn and not a whistle. I didn't know that I was seeing the end of an era. Had it not ended, I wonder if I would not have been an engineer like Mr. Jones.
01 June 2009
A Light Extinguished
A light became evermore dim and finally died out this week. "B" was a force in so many lives that she will be remembered by many from all walks of life. She died after several years with a form of cancer that spares 96% of people who have it. Ironic as that seems, she never did act as most ill persons. Her past history of illness ran from the rare to the unusual, and I often told her that if I were her physician, I would run out the back door when I saw her enter my office.
Her life began in Norway but ended after 40+ years in Switzerland. She and her husband, "A" produced three children that I often called "Stepford" children. They in turn, had grandchidren that are superlative. These gave her great grandchildren before she died. I have no idea how any step children there are to count. Numerous kids from Switzerland, the Balkans, and elsewhere lived for varying periods in her home. To this day, they all remember her. I am certain that more will turn up at her memorial service.
Then, there are the "step adults" who were fortunate enough to become her charges while vacationing in Switzerland. These people and their activities would fill a sizable book, and they all remembered the lady with a smile who could seemingly make things gone wrong OK again. The stories that she could tell about American tourists were many and always showed the fun she had with them. One of her cures for a kranky American was to invite that person to sit and have some Congnac. A lot of fussy folks have left her house feeling much better than they entered. She and "A" always planned a weekend excursion with the Americans in a car, so they go places that were not always reached eaisily by public transport. These along with frequent dinners helped make her a favorite with all her guests and resulted in many repeat visits. These Americans reciprocated when she traveled to the USA. People actually got mad when she and "A" were not able to visit just them. Everyone always considered them "their" friends. They certainly had more friends in the USA than I did.
Her life began in Norway but ended after 40+ years in Switzerland. She and her husband, "A" produced three children that I often called "Stepford" children. They in turn, had grandchidren that are superlative. These gave her great grandchildren before she died. I have no idea how any step children there are to count. Numerous kids from Switzerland, the Balkans, and elsewhere lived for varying periods in her home. To this day, they all remember her. I am certain that more will turn up at her memorial service.
Then, there are the "step adults" who were fortunate enough to become her charges while vacationing in Switzerland. These people and their activities would fill a sizable book, and they all remembered the lady with a smile who could seemingly make things gone wrong OK again. The stories that she could tell about American tourists were many and always showed the fun she had with them. One of her cures for a kranky American was to invite that person to sit and have some Congnac. A lot of fussy folks have left her house feeling much better than they entered. She and "A" always planned a weekend excursion with the Americans in a car, so they go places that were not always reached eaisily by public transport. These along with frequent dinners helped make her a favorite with all her guests and resulted in many repeat visits. These Americans reciprocated when she traveled to the USA. People actually got mad when she and "A" were not able to visit just them. Everyone always considered them "their" friends. They certainly had more friends in the USA than I did.
11 March 2008
A Walk on the Wild Side
Just when you think that you have heard it all, here comes another crazy story (no, not about Eliot Spitzer).
The day before yesterday, it seems that four Korean gentleman tourists decided to take the Wanderweg from Alpnachstad and walk up to the top of Pilatus. In summer, that is a somewhat boring four hour hike. In winter, it is covered with deep snow and has no train service by the steepest cog train in the world. Because of areas of avalanche danger, it is also avoided under these conditions.
To make matters worse, these guys were outfitted with sneakers and open shoes (thongs?), light jackets, and blue jeans. They also had only a fanny pack between them. No one knew of their plans. All this makes a perfect disaster scenario.
About 5 PM, the manager of the Pilatus Kulm Hotel noticed a bedraggled and wet man on the terrace of the summit. The man informed the manager that he and three others had a reservation at the hotel. He spoke only some broken English but went to a room, showered, and then went to dinner. He happened to mention to a waitress that he had three friends who were coming up by way of the path. Everyone then realized that this man had not come up on the cable car from Luzern (Kriens) but had walked up from Alpnachstad. He had a summer walking map with him and showed the people there where his friends were when he last saw them. It turns out that this a spot called Mattalp where the trains stop in summer.
The hotel manager immediately called the Obwalden police who called the Swiss Alpine Club rescue squad. These folks along with a REGA helicopter equipped with a searchlight found these clowns about 8 PM. They had gotten into a hut and built a fire. The area was covered with a meter of snow. They were air-evacuated to Alpnachstad airport by the chopper in two trips. The mountain men were a sad looking lot and were put up in a hotel in Sarnen. I assume their compatriot stayed at the Pilatus Kulm. Their picture in the paper shows them to be somewhat serious.
Likely, their demeanor comes about because REGA will rescue anyone in trouble, but unless you are a sponsor, you foot the bill. At 80 CHF per MINUTE, this runs into money for a 90 minute jaunt with a helicopter (7200 CHF). Fortunately, they do take credit cards, and I guess these guys are maxed out now.
The day before yesterday, it seems that four Korean gentleman tourists decided to take the Wanderweg from Alpnachstad and walk up to the top of Pilatus. In summer, that is a somewhat boring four hour hike. In winter, it is covered with deep snow and has no train service by the steepest cog train in the world. Because of areas of avalanche danger, it is also avoided under these conditions.
To make matters worse, these guys were outfitted with sneakers and open shoes (thongs?), light jackets, and blue jeans. They also had only a fanny pack between them. No one knew of their plans. All this makes a perfect disaster scenario.
About 5 PM, the manager of the Pilatus Kulm Hotel noticed a bedraggled and wet man on the terrace of the summit. The man informed the manager that he and three others had a reservation at the hotel. He spoke only some broken English but went to a room, showered, and then went to dinner. He happened to mention to a waitress that he had three friends who were coming up by way of the path. Everyone then realized that this man had not come up on the cable car from Luzern (Kriens) but had walked up from Alpnachstad. He had a summer walking map with him and showed the people there where his friends were when he last saw them. It turns out that this a spot called Mattalp where the trains stop in summer.
The hotel manager immediately called the Obwalden police who called the Swiss Alpine Club rescue squad. These folks along with a REGA helicopter equipped with a searchlight found these clowns about 8 PM. They had gotten into a hut and built a fire. The area was covered with a meter of snow. They were air-evacuated to Alpnachstad airport by the chopper in two trips. The mountain men were a sad looking lot and were put up in a hotel in Sarnen. I assume their compatriot stayed at the Pilatus Kulm. Their picture in the paper shows them to be somewhat serious.
Likely, their demeanor comes about because REGA will rescue anyone in trouble, but unless you are a sponsor, you foot the bill. At 80 CHF per MINUTE, this runs into money for a 90 minute jaunt with a helicopter (7200 CHF). Fortunately, they do take credit cards, and I guess these guys are maxed out now.
07 October 2007
Tell Me This Is a Joke
Below is a quote from this Sunday's Atlanta Constitution. *************************************************************************************************** How big is too big? The Georgia Department of Transportation may be about to learn. In a new era of tolls and private investment in roads, the state is considering road projects that dwarf anything in its history: $500 million to expand western I-285, $1.4 billion for Ga. 400, $4 billion for I-75 and I-575. Peanuts. As expensive as those projects are, Atlanta needs something far, far bigger and better connected, say a growing number of state Transportation Board officials. Namely, expand the whole Atlanta major highway system, add a web of truck-only lanes and HOV toll lanes to the freeways and, perhaps, new toll roads like a redrawn Northern Arc or Midtown tunnel. Think $30 billion to $50 billion. And no, the state doesn't have the money. But you do. DOT consultants are calling it "the whole enchilada." Metro Atlanta is drowning in congestion, the board members say, and a project here and there won't cut it. Private investment, paid back by tolls, would have to fund all or part of it. Companies — or one private consortium — could finance it, build it, and lease it for decades, reaping returns by collecting tolls and probably sharing profits with the state. ****************************************************************************************************** This is just the opening of the article. Am I the only one who thinks that before these projects are finished, gasoline and other fossil fuels are going to be either non-existant or beyond the pocketbook of any comsumer? Who in their right mind would invest in a boondawgle like this. Who is going to have money for tolls when the gas is so expensive that you cannot buy it? I thought this was a joke at first, but these nitwits are seriously shortsighted.
24 July 2007
The USA Summer
Our summer trip to the USA in RI is about to end. We are always ambivalent about going “home” to CH. It, as always, has been a busy time.
Children and grandchildren all like to come to Newport, and we are always ready to see these precious people in our lives. It is always a joy to see these kids and grandkids and to hear how their lives are changing. We get to experience the 24/7 aspects of the USA. We have fun buying and cooking the foods that are not common fare in CH. Just yesterday, I cooked a big “mess” of turnip greens. Before we leave, I am going to use my new Dutch oven pot to fix some crayfish/alligator etoufee. I wish that I could get that pot back to CH, but it is too heavy.
This year, we traveled to my old hometown of Jackson, Tennessee to be at my high school’s 50th class reunion. That was a real hoot for both of us. It did use up four days of our Newport time though. Another exciting event for us was a trip to Boston to see the Red Sox play in Fenway Park. That is always an event. We enjoyed a concert one night in Providence and visits with USA friends here that we often see in CH.
I continue to find Rhode Islanders very unique people. The traffic courtesy is still here even though our rental car has NY plates. The condo is as nice as it is always, but there are also the usual things to do to keep it up. We are fortunate to have a lovely lady retired navy captain to live in it for us this year, so that is one less thing to worry us. I want to get back to CH to see how our plants are doing, meet old friends, and get the German papers to brush up. Of course, Barbara has her students, the bridge club, and the international ladies club on which to check.
We are indeed fortunate people.
Children and grandchildren all like to come to Newport, and we are always ready to see these precious people in our lives. It is always a joy to see these kids and grandkids and to hear how their lives are changing. We get to experience the 24/7 aspects of the USA. We have fun buying and cooking the foods that are not common fare in CH. Just yesterday, I cooked a big “mess” of turnip greens. Before we leave, I am going to use my new Dutch oven pot to fix some crayfish/alligator etoufee. I wish that I could get that pot back to CH, but it is too heavy.
This year, we traveled to my old hometown of Jackson, Tennessee to be at my high school’s 50th class reunion. That was a real hoot for both of us. It did use up four days of our Newport time though. Another exciting event for us was a trip to Boston to see the Red Sox play in Fenway Park. That is always an event. We enjoyed a concert one night in Providence and visits with USA friends here that we often see in CH.
I continue to find Rhode Islanders very unique people. The traffic courtesy is still here even though our rental car has NY plates. The condo is as nice as it is always, but there are also the usual things to do to keep it up. We are fortunate to have a lovely lady retired navy captain to live in it for us this year, so that is one less thing to worry us. I want to get back to CH to see how our plants are doing, meet old friends, and get the German papers to brush up. Of course, Barbara has her students, the bridge club, and the international ladies club on which to check.
We are indeed fortunate people.
18 July 2007
Half of a Century
This last weekend, I went to my 50th high school reunion. To say the least, it was a mixture of fun and sadness. It was fun to see all these senior citizens who looked vaguely familiar but who sounded just like they did 50 years ago. Everyone had changed, and some had done this more than others.
Our class had 183 members. Less than 50% attended the reunion with spouses or alone. From what I hear, our attendance was pretty good. 26 members of the class have died ( 14% ). That is better than expected. Those that have died were definitely present with us and likely were remembered by all. None of us were unaware of the fact that it was only a matter of time until we joined their club.
One thing was clear. There is an "Olive Oil" Syndrome. This is what a friend of mine calls it when a skinny and plain girl in high school grows into an attractive older woman. I saw several examples, while the reverse was also true too.
There were parties and grand opportunities to visit, tell stories, and share experiences. We had gained families, work history, and life knowledge. Someone will the last one left of our group. I hope they remember to turn off the lights when they leave.
Our class had 183 members. Less than 50% attended the reunion with spouses or alone. From what I hear, our attendance was pretty good. 26 members of the class have died ( 14% ). That is better than expected. Those that have died were definitely present with us and likely were remembered by all. None of us were unaware of the fact that it was only a matter of time until we joined their club.
One thing was clear. There is an "Olive Oil" Syndrome. This is what a friend of mine calls it when a skinny and plain girl in high school grows into an attractive older woman. I saw several examples, while the reverse was also true too.
There were parties and grand opportunities to visit, tell stories, and share experiences. We had gained families, work history, and life knowledge. Someone will the last one left of our group. I hope they remember to turn off the lights when they leave.
07 July 2007
Isn't this the Truth?
"hope that can never die /Effort and
expectation and desire/ and something evermore
about to be"
The above is from Scott Fitzgerald.
What a great thought! If you think about it, this is what Idyllers do before every trip. It also works with children and grandchildren.
expectation and desire/ and something evermore
about to be"
The above is from Scott Fitzgerald.
What a great thought! If you think about it, this is what Idyllers do before every trip. It also works with children and grandchildren.
05 July 2007
Is this as It Is Supposed to Be?
I saw Big Al (Al Gore) on TV twice this AM. Once on a liberal branch of the media and once on a conservative network. He is not one of my favorite politicians, as few are these days. In fact, I am hard pressed to vote for anyone right now. I am a Tennessean by birth, but Al isn't one of us, as far as I am concerned. His father, on the other hand, was a tolerable liberal.
My point is this. The first question out of each interviewer's mouth today was about Gore's son who was caught with a DUI and drugs in his car yesterday. What the *(%$# does this have to do with politics, global warming, or anything in the public sphere? My answer is nothing at all. What do John Edwards' wife's breasts have to do with anything outside her family? Same answer from me.
We all put our pants on one leg at a time. If we are parents, we all are subject to worry about the whims of our adult children. Big Al's son is 24 years old!! Having seen other similar situations, I know that what adult children do with their lives are not under parental control and are largely a matter of the Grace of God or something else aside from our responsibility.
The networks are out of control and need to be censured in the most effective way. That way is to bring down the wrath of God around those who pay for the airtime to advertise. If this is censorship (I doubt this), then it is as it should be. Freedom of speech does not allow one to yell Fire" in a crowded place just for the hell of it. The media needs to be held accountable for their actions. This kind of interview has no value.
My point is this. The first question out of each interviewer's mouth today was about Gore's son who was caught with a DUI and drugs in his car yesterday. What the *(%$# does this have to do with politics, global warming, or anything in the public sphere? My answer is nothing at all. What do John Edwards' wife's breasts have to do with anything outside her family? Same answer from me.
We all put our pants on one leg at a time. If we are parents, we all are subject to worry about the whims of our adult children. Big Al's son is 24 years old!! Having seen other similar situations, I know that what adult children do with their lives are not under parental control and are largely a matter of the Grace of God or something else aside from our responsibility.
The networks are out of control and need to be censured in the most effective way. That way is to bring down the wrath of God around those who pay for the airtime to advertise. If this is censorship (I doubt this), then it is as it should be. Freedom of speech does not allow one to yell Fire" in a crowded place just for the hell of it. The media needs to be held accountable for their actions. This kind of interview has no value.
02 July 2007
A Tale from a Friend
Olympic air was just like the reviews I read about them on line previous to the trip. The flights were late, the food was lousy, and the service was poor. On the flight from JFK it was 4 and a half hours before they served anything. We caught on after a few hours that it was self service. If you wanted a drink you went to the gallery at the back of the plane and poured yourself a water or juice. We saw the greeks walking to the back and coming back with cups of water. So Sue went to the back and got us 2 waters. they had pitchers on a table.
After they served the meal the attendants disappeared.
Right after the plane took off from JFK while the plane was still ascending Greek passengers got up and started walking around and going to the bathroom. Finally they sent a female stewardess forward to chase them back to their seats. It was funny she blocked the one bath room door with her body. There was a lot of yelling and hand motions. The one steward got into 6 fights, 3 with the same guy whom he kept picking on and 3 ladies. It was funny.
The return trip was a 10 hour 40 minute trip so I stocked up with food and water for the return trip, but on the way home they served a hot meal one hour into the flight, shut the lights out and told you to close the window shades, and then disappeared for 7 hours and self service kicked in. We got a cold meal an hour before we landed. I swear the attendants changed into tourist garb and hid among the passengers. The check in at the Santorini airport was hillarious. That's a story for another time.
At least the pilots were good, they made very smooth landings.
After they served the meal the attendants disappeared.
Right after the plane took off from JFK while the plane was still ascending Greek passengers got up and started walking around and going to the bathroom. Finally they sent a female stewardess forward to chase them back to their seats. It was funny she blocked the one bath room door with her body. There was a lot of yelling and hand motions. The one steward got into 6 fights, 3 with the same guy whom he kept picking on and 3 ladies. It was funny.
The return trip was a 10 hour 40 minute trip so I stocked up with food and water for the return trip, but on the way home they served a hot meal one hour into the flight, shut the lights out and told you to close the window shades, and then disappeared for 7 hours and self service kicked in. We got a cold meal an hour before we landed. I swear the attendants changed into tourist garb and hid among the passengers. The check in at the Santorini airport was hillarious. That's a story for another time.
At least the pilots were good, they made very smooth landings.
29 June 2007
How about this for Irony?
Things just get crazier and crazier to me. Michael Moore and Paris Hilton, admittedly not at the top of my favorite people's list, are two of the top stories this week. Poor Paris, who I think has all the attributes of a knot on a log, and Mike (laughing all the way to the bank) Moore are right in the top Yahoo News headlines today. It seems that Mike got bumped from Larry King's (don't get me started on that ding dong) show, so Paris could tell us how things went in the slammer. To add insult to injury, yesterday Mike got the door of The New York Stock Exchange slammed in his face. Apparently he failed to make arrangements to be allowed in the exchange (that has a faint odor to it also, but that is the exchange's story).
Paris is till soaking in Lysol, but Mike says that he is beginning to take things personally. You think???
Paris is till soaking in Lysol, but Mike says that he is beginning to take things personally. You think???
14 June 2007
Who Are They Kidding?
Since arrival here in the land of super size and 24/7, I have noted that the TV is inundated with talking heads. Most of them are talking about the distant presidential election and its candidates. Do they think, at this time, many of us are interested?
CNN, FOX, MSNBC, etc. all are extolling the wonders of this or that person, offering critiques, wondering out loud about this or that, etc. This all done by "experts". Even people who are unannounced candidates are not spared.
Who are the beneficiaries of all this wind? Certainly, no voter is going to make a hard and fast decision today, so count them out. The people who are benefiting are the TV networks. Millions of dollars are already being spent from campaign war chests. All this goes to the networks. Knowing politicians, who thinks that a TV show has a hard time getting their mouths open? As a result, we are bombarded daily with blather on this or that possibility. So much for that. The networks rake in the dollars, and the politicians pay for and get, time to expound. We get to listen.
CNN, FOX, MSNBC, etc. all are extolling the wonders of this or that person, offering critiques, wondering out loud about this or that, etc. This all done by "experts". Even people who are unannounced candidates are not spared.
Who are the beneficiaries of all this wind? Certainly, no voter is going to make a hard and fast decision today, so count them out. The people who are benefiting are the TV networks. Millions of dollars are already being spent from campaign war chests. All this goes to the networks. Knowing politicians, who thinks that a TV show has a hard time getting their mouths open? As a result, we are bombarded daily with blather on this or that possibility. So much for that. The networks rake in the dollars, and the politicians pay for and get, time to expound. We get to listen.
13 June 2007
Wouldn't You Know?
Things are getting pretty scary here now. In the last two days, I have read reports that tend to make me wonder if indeed humans are as smart as they think. When you see what a mess humans have made of the world, I suppose that it is no wonder to question that.
Elephants can hear with their feet? It seems that they can do this over long distances by pounding on the jungle floor. If that isn't amazing enough, it seems that they can also recognize each other by the sounds their feet make. If they get warnings from a reliable source, they believe them. If these warnings are from a questionable source, then they ignore them. Too bad that humans cannot always do that. If they could pull this off, all the politicians would be in another line of work.
Now, the best one for today is that cockroaches can learn things. These little beasts have been around for many centuries, so is it any wonder that they can learn? It seems that like Pavlov's dog, they can salivate when a repeatable stimulus is presented to them. If a cockroach smells an odor when being fed a sugar solution, they learn to associate this odor with feeding. Then, when some sneaky scientist turns the odor machine on but leaves off the sugar solution, they salivate. Salivate?? Who would like to be the guy who runs the saliva measurement machine? "What does your dad do?" "He runs the spit measurement laboratory." Can't you just see a cockroach pondering the theory of relativity?
Elephants can hear with their feet? It seems that they can do this over long distances by pounding on the jungle floor. If that isn't amazing enough, it seems that they can also recognize each other by the sounds their feet make. If they get warnings from a reliable source, they believe them. If these warnings are from a questionable source, then they ignore them. Too bad that humans cannot always do that. If they could pull this off, all the politicians would be in another line of work.
Now, the best one for today is that cockroaches can learn things. These little beasts have been around for many centuries, so is it any wonder that they can learn? It seems that like Pavlov's dog, they can salivate when a repeatable stimulus is presented to them. If a cockroach smells an odor when being fed a sugar solution, they learn to associate this odor with feeding. Then, when some sneaky scientist turns the odor machine on but leaves off the sugar solution, they salivate. Salivate?? Who would like to be the guy who runs the saliva measurement machine? "What does your dad do?" "He runs the spit measurement laboratory." Can't you just see a cockroach pondering the theory of relativity?
31 May 2007
An Explosive Experience in the Zurich Airport
Barbara and I left Zurich for the USA on 30 May this week. As usual, we shipped our luggage to the airport, so we did not have to schlepp the bags from two trains. The baggage is kept at the "to claim" section of the airport's SBB station where one picks up it with claim checks before checking in. No problems as usual. HOWEVER, this year we were told that they would sell us baggage checks for our use when we returned in a couple of months.
As I went in to claim our bags, the lady was berating a couple of young students who must have asked a dumb question. She was too old for PMS, but still was a bit nasty to them. She looked at me like I was some sort of hairy mole on her body but took the checks and got the bags. The I asked about the baggage checks for our return trip so that we could, as we usually do, pick up the bags in Sarnen. She consulted her screen and informed me that this was not going to happen because there was no code in the system for Sarnen. When I pushed the issue with her, she flipped the screen around to show me that there was no code.
I realized that I was dealing with a closed mind and a loosing situation, so I walked out and went next door to a ticket counter. While the lady there in the usual polite tone told me that of course one could ship bags to Sarnen. About that time, here comes Brunhilde with three baggage tickets to Sarnen in her hand for me and some comment about her being on the wrong web page. She led me next door while admonishing me not to go looking for other opinions when she told me something.
Well, for me that did it, I let her know what I thought of her and her obviously "bad day". She was not happy at my evaluation of her, her day, SBB in general, and my lack of concern that she had worked for SBB for thirty years. To the last comment, I mentioned if she had not learned in thirty years how to satisfy a customer then maybe all her days were "bad days". Just as we were nose to nose things blew up!
The pick up station has two large glass sliding doors that open automatically to facilitate large baggage wagons, etc. There was no one near us or the doors, and the doors were closed. She was facing them and my back was to them. A huge explosion sounded!! I remained motionless ( If I had not been so pissed, I likely would have ducked). Brunhilde turned as white as clay, grabbed her chest and ducked downward. I heard glass clattering to the floor and turned to see safety glass shards in at least 5000 pieces falling to the floor. As I turned back to the counter, I said, I told you that you were having a bad day, now see what you have done?" She screamed, "You didn't move; you are a cool one!" I advised her that she had better be careful what she said to me because there was another door right behind me.
Then she began to laugh. Other SBB personnel arrived and I advised them that "She did it." The all began to laugh. She said that this man didn't move!! The fun continued as I told them that I ought to get a discount for being in a war zone, and that with a start like today's had been, maybe I shouldn't get on any airplanes today. She and I discussed our mutual feelings about the state of the SBB baggage system currently. My theory is that the clowns in charge of making the rules, don't ride the trains to work. Her idea is that they hire people with book knowledge but no practice. We are both likely right.
Anyway, whatever was eating at this lady got blown away by the door explosion. She smiled at me as I left, likely because she realized that incontinence was still a problem for her future.
I don't know why a glass door broke in that way with no one near it, but it was nice that the doors are safety glass. Anyone next to it would have been spooked but not cut. I suspect that the pane got torqued a bit for some reason in its track and went boom.
As I went in to claim our bags, the lady was berating a couple of young students who must have asked a dumb question. She was too old for PMS, but still was a bit nasty to them. She looked at me like I was some sort of hairy mole on her body but took the checks and got the bags. The I asked about the baggage checks for our return trip so that we could, as we usually do, pick up the bags in Sarnen. She consulted her screen and informed me that this was not going to happen because there was no code in the system for Sarnen. When I pushed the issue with her, she flipped the screen around to show me that there was no code.
I realized that I was dealing with a closed mind and a loosing situation, so I walked out and went next door to a ticket counter. While the lady there in the usual polite tone told me that of course one could ship bags to Sarnen. About that time, here comes Brunhilde with three baggage tickets to Sarnen in her hand for me and some comment about her being on the wrong web page. She led me next door while admonishing me not to go looking for other opinions when she told me something.
Well, for me that did it, I let her know what I thought of her and her obviously "bad day". She was not happy at my evaluation of her, her day, SBB in general, and my lack of concern that she had worked for SBB for thirty years. To the last comment, I mentioned if she had not learned in thirty years how to satisfy a customer then maybe all her days were "bad days". Just as we were nose to nose things blew up!
The pick up station has two large glass sliding doors that open automatically to facilitate large baggage wagons, etc. There was no one near us or the doors, and the doors were closed. She was facing them and my back was to them. A huge explosion sounded!! I remained motionless ( If I had not been so pissed, I likely would have ducked). Brunhilde turned as white as clay, grabbed her chest and ducked downward. I heard glass clattering to the floor and turned to see safety glass shards in at least 5000 pieces falling to the floor. As I turned back to the counter, I said, I told you that you were having a bad day, now see what you have done?" She screamed, "You didn't move; you are a cool one!" I advised her that she had better be careful what she said to me because there was another door right behind me.
Then she began to laugh. Other SBB personnel arrived and I advised them that "She did it." The all began to laugh. She said that this man didn't move!! The fun continued as I told them that I ought to get a discount for being in a war zone, and that with a start like today's had been, maybe I shouldn't get on any airplanes today. She and I discussed our mutual feelings about the state of the SBB baggage system currently. My theory is that the clowns in charge of making the rules, don't ride the trains to work. Her idea is that they hire people with book knowledge but no practice. We are both likely right.
Anyway, whatever was eating at this lady got blown away by the door explosion. She smiled at me as I left, likely because she realized that incontinence was still a problem for her future.
I don't know why a glass door broke in that way with no one near it, but it was nice that the doors are safety glass. Anyone next to it would have been spooked but not cut. I suspect that the pane got torqued a bit for some reason in its track and went boom.
27 May 2007
My New Idol- A Lawyer!!
The TV show, "Boston Legal" is held up almost entirely by a character called Denny Crane. I just love this guy who is played by William Shatner. I love Denny for lots of reasons. Just the way he says "Denny Crane" when he is introduced gives me a laugh.
Denny is much more than that however, he is irreverent, scandalizes people and ideas, he epitomizes "politically INCORRECT, has the morals of an alley cat (not that unusual in legal circles), and in general is just a lovable scoundrel. He can horrify anyone with barely more than a look.
There is a great site with a Denny Crane quote generator that I find very entertaining.
http://tvcomedies.about.com/library/quotes/bl_denny_crane_quotes.htm
This clown gives reason for The Vent Guy to quake in his boots. He is at:
http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/vent/index.html
If we are all really honest with ourselves and insightful, most of us will identify, or want to identify, with Denny Crane. If not, then you have my sympathy.
Denny is much more than that however, he is irreverent, scandalizes people and ideas, he epitomizes "politically INCORRECT, has the morals of an alley cat (not that unusual in legal circles), and in general is just a lovable scoundrel. He can horrify anyone with barely more than a look.
There is a great site with a Denny Crane quote generator that I find very entertaining.
http://tvcomedies.about.com/library/quotes/bl_denny_crane_quotes.htm
This clown gives reason for The Vent Guy to quake in his boots. He is at:
http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/vent/index.html
If we are all really honest with ourselves and insightful, most of us will identify, or want to identify, with Denny Crane. If not, then you have my sympathy.
12 May 2007
It's about Time
When I came to CH in 1977, you could have eaten off the curb or sidewalk in Zurich, the country's largest city. Now, you might not be able to do this in a small village. I used to say that if you saw a candy wrapper, etc. on a hiking trail that it meant a tourist had been by there. Now, I doubt the tourists are completely at fault. There are so many new people living here from countries where filth is the norm, that I suspect them. Also, the Swiss are not without guilt here. The younger generation has not been expected to do as they were taught and keep a clean country. In that first visit, I remember a sidewalk lecture given to a toddler by his father. The toddler's infraction? He had dropped a gum wrapper on the sidewalk. Besides the oral education, he learned to walk over to the refuse can and put his wrapper in it.
To see wrappers, fast food throw away, and drink containers along the road, train line, or hiking paths is now the norm. BUT LOOK OUT! The areas of Bern, Basel, Luzern, and others have instituted fines for littering. These range from 30-300 CHF, and in some places are due on the spot. That means cash or a visit to the police station. Cigarette butts, gum or wrappers, and other trash go into a can or remain in your backpack until you find a receptacle. I expect the smaller villages to be more stringent than other areas. One might want to be aware of this force against the "throw away society".
To see wrappers, fast food throw away, and drink containers along the road, train line, or hiking paths is now the norm. BUT LOOK OUT! The areas of Bern, Basel, Luzern, and others have instituted fines for littering. These range from 30-300 CHF, and in some places are due on the spot. That means cash or a visit to the police station. Cigarette butts, gum or wrappers, and other trash go into a can or remain in your backpack until you find a receptacle. I expect the smaller villages to be more stringent than other areas. One might want to be aware of this force against the "throw away society".
06 May 2007
WW II and "J"
On 13 April 2006, I wrote a blog about "J" and her life in occupied Paris as a teenager. Well, "J" turned 84 the other day, and we had a nice lunch together with Barbara, "J's" husband, and her niece who lives in Paris.
I thought maybe some readers might like to see her picture, so here it is.
03 May 2007
Normandy, the Finale
21 April, Saturday
Today was packing day with plans for an early departure on Sunday. I hit the big grocery store for last minute purchases, mailed some cards, and got some Euros for use on the return trip. Then we had “refrigerator clean out” for supper.
22 April Sunday
Up in the dark for a 13-hour drive home. But what memories! Home still looked good.
A few days later, I learned that we were only a few miles away from where my seventh great grandmother had lived before she emigrated to Quebec almost two hundred years ago. Maybe this will be an excuse for another journey. We did not visit Cherbourg or Caen, so that could be another trip.
Today was packing day with plans for an early departure on Sunday. I hit the big grocery store for last minute purchases, mailed some cards, and got some Euros for use on the return trip. Then we had “refrigerator clean out” for supper.
22 April Sunday
Up in the dark for a 13-hour drive home. But what memories! Home still looked good.
A few days later, I learned that we were only a few miles away from where my seventh great grandmother had lived before she emigrated to Quebec almost two hundred years ago. Maybe this will be an excuse for another journey. We did not visit Cherbourg or Caen, so that could be another trip.
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