In case you haven't seen the story.....
A father of a black teen girl found out that his daughter was being racially bullied. He obtained proof of this then tried to settle the issue with the parents of the students that were bullying his daughter. In response, he was then racially bullied himself by the father of the bullies. He obtained the proof of that bullying then went on youtube and created a video about the situation that has gone viral with over a million hits in the last couple of days. Secondly, a local newscast did a report on the story, as well as a follow up on what happened to the father of the bullies as a result of his actions.
Original video the dad posted about his daughter being bullied: Dad's video
Newscast about the event: News report
My 2 cents after watching the videos: It's people who see wrongs committed yet fail to say anything publicly that has allowed garbage like racist bullying to go on. Bravo to the dad who said the names, people need to know who these idiots are, and they deserve the wrath of society in response to their behavior. If I had an employee whom I found out was racially harassing someone who was also harassed by his kids...I'd likely do the same thing. I refuse to be associated with such trashy people, and I would not want my business to be affiliated with them either. If the business owner hadn't done that, I suspect that if the racist's enemies found out where he worked, the business would receive some kind of retribution for employing such a racist moron. Racism and bullying will only go on as long as the good people among us allow it to prosper.
Friday, January 23, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
My Heart Attack
Around ten years ago I had what is officially referred to as a myocardial infarction, which is better known as a Heart Attack. About 4 months later I wrote this essay about my experience. After posting it online and showing it to coworkers I got a lot of feedback thanking me for writing it, since within just a couple weeks of sharing it, it saved at least two lives. Imagine that, take a couple hours out of your day and it could save several lives. For the same reason, I share this essay again here, to a possibly wider audience. Both men and women should pay attention to it. It just might keep you out of the grave.
My
adventure started on a cool Thursday evening. I had arrived home from
work at around 9:30pm, and decided to fix something to eat. I felt
fine. There was no indication that anything was wrong or out of the
ordinary concerning my health.
By 10:20pm or so I had finished eating and was cleaning up the kitchen. I wasn’t stressed or upset, nor was I fatigued or strained in any way. I was tired from working all day, yes, but in no way exhausted or stressed. It was then that it hit.
As I was about to exit the kitchen, I quickly developed a very sharp, burning sensation in the center of my chest. When it arrived, I just thought that I had eaten something a bit too hot, and surmised that it had mildly irritated my esophagus. I drank 2 glasses of ice water, then a small glass of milk, hoping that the coolness would suffice to ease the now worsening discomfort. Well, no such luck. Though I was far from being panicked, I was wishing with all I had that it would soon pass.
I recall stopping and debating whether or not this was digestive in nature, or a heart attack. Yes….the H word did pop into my head. However, the pain was very localized and seemed like it was right above where I assumed the top of my stomach to be. What I can now refer to as a localized pain, can only be likened to a burning chunk of charcoal resting right above my stomach. It was a searing kind of pain, as if something was literally on fire in my esophagus. There were no shooting pains over to or down my left arm, no pains up into my jaw area, nor was there any shortness of breath or tightness in my chest. Though I was beginning to get very worried, I still held out hope that this was a bad bad bad bad case of heartburn.
Within 2 minutes of its onset, the terrible pain, which I affectionately refer to as ‘horribly heinous’, had my total attention and nearly rendered me unable to do much other than drop to the floor in agony. I ordered myself to remain standing, then walked…..slowly….to my bedroom. I laid down on the bed to see if changing the gravitational pull on my body would effect the pain. It didn’t. In fact, I think it got a little worse.
After lying on the bed for a moment or two debating what I should do, I began feeling sick to my stomach. I had to puke. After dragging myself to the bathroom and emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet, I fully expected to feel a little better. Since I felt sick to my stomach, I, in my very fearful opinion, assumed that it must be a digestive issue. However, the burning was still there and getting worse by the minute.
I went back to my bedroom and sat down on my bed and again thought about what I should do. If I called 911 and went to the emergency room, I worried that I’d make a big embarrassing scene only to be told it was just a minor issue. I didn’t call my room mate, since I didn’t want to drag him away from whatever he was doing, then later find out it was a false alarm, making me feel bad for disrupting his life. So I decided to drive to the drug store approximately a mile from the house, buy some maalox or something like that and see if that would relieve my pain. I put on some sweats, grabbed my wallet and my cell phone and headed to my truck.
The drive to the drug store, now, looking back, seems more like a dream than anything. I was in a dazed agony and fortunately don’t recall much about it other than how I wished I drove a rocket ship instead of a pickup truck.
I really can’t stress strongly enough how painful this was. I’ve never experienced anything like it in my 37 years. It was a horrible searing unrelenting pain that would not let up one tiny bit no matter what I did. It was very difficult to stand up, let alone walk. My face was blood red from the straining to keep going as I walked into the store. I hoped….out loud….that the stomach remedy aisle would be easy to find.
I located the correct aisle and picked up something maximum strength and fast-acting. I struggled to the front of the store and paid the 6 bucks for the medicine. As I walked out of the store I tore open the lid and drank several mouthfuls of the horribly flavored concoction. With each step I took towards my truck, I realized more vividly that it wasn’t helping, therefore, I must be having a heart attack. I climbed into the truck and thought about my next move. I was getting weak, as well as sick to my stomach again.
Since I knew there is a small, fairly new hospital 3 or 4 miles from where I was, I decided to head off in that direction. I was very new to the city and had no idea what the quickest route to it would be. However, I was going there one way or another.
As I drove toward the exit to the street, I saw a police car parked on the shoulder right next to the edge of the parking lot. I drove to a grassy area next to the police car, exited my truck and started the 50 foot stumble toward it.
By this time I had been in pain, I’m guessing, around 15 minutes. The time was after 10:30pm so it was totally dark outside on this February 2004 night. One or two lights illuminated the area next to the drug store, so I could at least see where I was going as I walked across the grass and through the shallow ditch that stood between me and the police car.
Having been in the security business in the past, I know that police officers do NOT like people to walk up on them as they sit in their car. Therefore, I made sure the officer, a young woman around 25 years old, saw me clearly and could plainly tell that I was in extreme distress. I squatted next to her car as she rolled down the window.
Me: (out of breath and obviously in pain) Can you tell me how to get to the nearest hospital?
Her: (very concerned) Why, is something wrong?
Me: Well…..I think I’m having a heart attack.
A look of shock and surprise flashed across her face, but she handled it brilliantly.
Her: Wouldn’t it be better if I called an ambulance for you? If you think you are having a heart attack, you shouldn’t be driving. It wouldn't be safe since you might pass out and kill yourself and some family in an accident. They could be here in just a couple of minutes.
I looked over my shoulder at the truck.
Just the thought of walking back to it made me agree with her.
Me: (wincing) Yeah….that might be a pretty good idea….can you call them?
By that time, she was already on her radio, requesting assistance.
I thanked her and leaned up against her car. Within 30 seconds, another police car pulled up in front of hers with it’s rotating lights on. A male officer got out of it and asked what was wrong. I told him I think I’m having a heart attack. As the female officer got out of her vehicle, they both suggested that I sit down on the nearby curb. I did as suggested.
As I sat there in the dark, all alone in this strange city, I simply could not believe this was happening to me. I had just moved there and started a new job a week earlier, so my insurance wouldn’t be going into effect for another 10 days. I had no family or friends within 1500 miles, and there I was, on the verge of kicking the bucket on the side of the road. Sheeesh…..what luck eh?
After 2 or 3 minutes of enduring some stupid questions from the male officer about what I had eaten that day, a faint hint of a siren in the distance broke the serene silence of the evening. As it got louder, my mind was racing….
I hope this isn’t just a simple digestive thing, but then again I really don’t want it to be a heart attack either. I was torn between embarrassment and bankruptcy, when actually all I should have been concerned with was staying alive long enough to see my children and my wife just one more time. Realizing that, I was ashamed at my own thoughts, and decided that whatever happens, I have no plans to die tonight.
To my surprise, a fire truck rolled into the parking lot. Two firemen exited it and approached me with a suitcase and an oxygen bottle. The first one, whom I assumed was in charge, began asking me a series of questions about what I was feeling right then, the series of events leading up to his arrival, what I had eaten earlier, and if I was on any medication. I answered his questions as he strapped a clear mask over my mouth and nose. He told me to just breath deeply and try to stay calm. He informed me that an ambulance was on its way and should be there any minute.
It was about this time that I came upon the realization that…, “Oh shit, this is serious. I am actually having a friggin heart attack! I could pass out at any moment.”
The ambulance soon arrived and 2 burly guys got out of it. The larger of the two came over to the firetruck I was sitting next to, got a run down of my vitals from the fireman, then proceeded to ask me pretty much the same questions the fireman had asked.
(All emergency folks must attend some course that teaches them to ask what people ate last)
The 2nd ambulance guy was unloading a wheeled bed for me. I rolled my eyes. Oh great.
They helped me climb up onto the wheeled bed and told me to relax as they strapped me on. I was sooo thankful when I saw that they weren’t going to put a neck brace on me like you always see on TV. I laughed to myself.
Once in the ambulance, the leader of the pair began checking my pulse and blood pressure, then he initiated radio contact with the hospital. He was giving them a lot of info about me and my condition, as the other guy sat down to start an IV in my right arm.
I asked him if he was any good at starting IV’s. He seemed a bit insulted by my question, but eventually answered “yes” as he cleaned the planned IV site with an alcohol pad. I watched as he poked me 4 times, without any success. At that point, I told him to stop and let the other guy try it in the other arm. Once again, he seemed insulted, but heck, that shit hurts. One needle going in you is bad enough, but when someone has made four unsuccessful attempts, it’s time to try something different. Of course, the other guy hit the vein on my left arm on his first try. I was so glad.
While the leader of the two resumed his radio communications, and putting little EKG monitor stickers all over my torso, the other guy got behind the wheel and started us on our way.
Within a few seconds I noticed that we were going in the opposite direction of the hospital I mentioned earlier. I asked the EMT why. He then explained that they were taking me to the bigger, better equipped hospital about 10 minutes away. Sounded good to me, so I laid back and relaxed, allowing myself to be lulled a bit by the wailing siren we emitted into the darkness.
Throughout all of this, I resolved to chill out and stay as calm as possible. I was asking questions and cutting up a bit with the EMT, but he didn’t really seem interested in visiting. I suppose that what he knew, and I didn’t, was that I could die at any second. Now, several months later, I hear stories that folks tell me about their uncle or grandfather who had the same thing happen that I did, but they keeled over and croaked before emergency people arrived. Man, I was indeed lucky to be in that ambulance.
He kept checking the EKG readout and asking me about my pain level. I told him, on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst possible pain known to mankind, I was hovering at a good solid 7.38. It wasn’t as bad as it had been at home, but was still pretty bad.
He radioed the hospital again to give them an update as we flew down the road. I pictured us blasting past red lights, and people pulling over unemotionally to the side of the road as the ambulance passed, then continuing on their journey to taco bell or wherever they were going.
After exchanging some medical terminology over the radio, my attendant instructed me to open my mouth and raise my tongue. He then sprayed something with a tart flavor under my tongue and told me I’d have a splitting headache in a few seconds. I waited. Nope. No pain in my head. He seemed frustrated, then sprayed the stuff under my tongue again. I was anxious for the headache to hit me, but uh uh, nuttin. “The stuff isn’t working.” I told him.
He sprayed the chemical (which I was later told is nitro glycerin) one more time, and finally, I started to feel a head rush of sorts. That’s apparently what we were shooting for, because he didn’t spray any more. He asked me if my chest felt any better. At that moment I really couldn’t tell, but once I thought about it, I agreed that the pain was a tiny bit less than it had been moments before, but I was still very uncomfortable.
I asked him point blank if I was having a heart attack. He said that he isn’t a doctor, so he can’t make a diagnosis. I said I understand, then I asked a different question. “In your experience with numerous cases similar to mine, and taking into consideration the stuff you can see on that EKG readout, would it be logical for me to surmise that it is highly likely that I am having a heart attack?” He replied with a slight smile, “Right now we’re blazing down the road with lights and sirens, desperately trying to get you to the hospital as fast as possible. And Jeff, lemme tell ya, we rarely do that. So, whudda you think?”
Though I knew the answer before even asking, I replied, “Wonderful.”
I asked him how long till we arrive at the hospital. He said 2 or 3 minutes. I pulled the cell out of my pocket and called my room mate Stephen. He was freaking out, since he had driven by the commotion at the drugstore, saw a truck that looked like mine parked nearby, but wasn’t for sure, since it was pretty dark. I told him yes, I’m on my way to the hospital with what looks like a heart attack. I was mostly concerned with someone notifying my family in case I exited stage left. He was still in a state of amazed horror, but told me he’d see me in the ER as fast as he could get there. Though I had only known the guy for a couple of weeks, it calmed me and made me feel pretty good that he was already a friend I could count on when I needed him most. As I watched my life flash before my eyes, I felt extremely lonely and a little scared, and needed all the support I could get.
Everything that occurred over the next 2 or 3 minutes, from the time the ambulance stopped until I was moved from the wheeled ambulance bed and onto the hospital bed, was a blur. I don’t remember any of it at all.
The next thing I do recall is about 4 or 5 people hovering over me, asking me a lot of questions, (yes, some were about what I had eaten) taking my blood pressure, taking blood, checking my temperature and sticking more of those patches all over my upper body so they could hook me up to a heart monitor. I asked why they didn’t just use the same patches that the ambulance dude put on me. The nurse replied that they weren’t compatible. I made a mental note to suggest later that they simplify the process by using compatible equipment.
A nurse to my left was hooking me up to an IV, while a nurse on my right was trying to start another one in the same place that the driver failed to start one at in the ambulance. Eventually, I talked them into starting the second IV in my left arm, since it seemed to have easier to locate and puncture veins. They did as I requested and hit the vein on the first try, taped it down and capped it off. In frustration I asked them what the sense was in putting me through that painful ordeal, when all they were going to do was cap it off. They explained, in a practiced tone, that they always have 2 IV’s, in case they have to pump me full of large amounts of meds all at once. I said…”Oh…ok….makes sense I rekkin.”
The doctor then came in, looked at all the machines I was hooked up to, read some papers the nurses had been scribbling on, which I assumed contained all the info gathered on me thus far, then asked me to tell him the whole story from the moment the pain first hit me. As he listened to me, surprisingly attentively, I told him the entire story. It took me a good 5 minutes, then I sat back to await the verdict.
He said, “Well…..you are having a heart attack. We’ve already contacted the Cardiologist on call, and he is now on his way up here to examine you and see what he can do. Until he arrives, we’ll keep you stabilized and give you some morphine to ease your pain a bit.” Within seconds, a nurse walked in and injected a syringe full of clear liquid into my IV.
I remember thinking…”Yessss!!!…..MORPHINE!!!” I’ve always wondered what it felt like when they jack you up with that stuff. I smiled as I awaited it’s presence in my system.
If you’ve never had morphine injected directly into your bloodstream in copious amounts, I’ll try to describe it. It was almost worth it to have a heart attack, just to satisfy my curiosity.
Over the years of watching the ER shows on the discovery channel, I’ve seen them, on numerous occasions give folks morphine via IV. They always seem to feel better afterward, so I knew it had to be good stuff.
Within mere seconds after the injection there is a distinct warmth that begins at the site of the IV, then spreads throughout your body over the next 45 seconds or so. Though I expected it to make me forget who I was as soon as it reached my brain, I was a bit disappointed that my first noticeable reaction to it was pain cessation. Well, not really cessation per se, but rather, I didn’t care so much about the pain due to morphine’s remarkable ability to help you to not give a shit. Sorry, but that’s the easiest way to characterize the sensation it creates. I was still hurting, but silly things like the colors of the nurses uniforms mesmerized me for a moment or three, helping me to forget that I was in pain.
Then came the loopiness. Finally, no pain, and I was stoned. What better way to go through an experience like this. I recall thinking to myself how it was perfectly obvious to me now why people would or could become a morphine junkie. If someone could bottle that feeling and sell it legally, they’d be a billionaire. Man, that morphine is good stuff.
Ok, back to the story.
The cardiologist showed up. I liked him immediately because….well…..he was going to save my life. That, and the fact that he was wearing a Texas t-shirt, served to make me feel more at home. I had been living in Texas for two years prior to moving to South Carolina three weeks before this night.
He sat down and calmly explained what he felt was the wisest course of action, which was to do angioplasty to open up the blocked artery and effectively stop the heart attack in its tracks. He explained that it was not without risks, but that any possible risks were far outweighed by the HUGE risk I’d be taking by refusing to let him do what he was suggesting. Like anyone with any sense, I consented. Immediately I was whisked away down a hallway and into a waiting elevator by his two assistants. The following hour or so was the weirdest part of my adventure.
I recall being put onto a table and stripped nude and covered with a blanket. The male assistant began shaving a part of my groin area, while the 2 females began rapidly dressing the area around me for the surgical procedure. I was, as usual, asking questions and cutting up a bit, but they weren’t responding.
I asked them why they were in such a hurry. One of the females stopped long enough to look me in the eye and told me, “We are desperately trying to save your life, so we are preparing this room, and you, for this procedure as fast as humanly possible. Do you understand?” I nodded, and didn’t speak to them any more.
Once the doctor came into view, I asked him to knock me out for the procedure. I explained that I was terrified and did not want to be awake and conscious of him digging around inside me. Just the thought of that gave me the creeps. He told me not to worry, that he’d make sure I feel nothing, and that I’d remember none of it. That calmed me, so I sat back and waited for the festivities to begin.
I remember looking up at the ceiling and counting the tiles hanging above me. The doctor asked me if I could hear his voice. I told him that I could, then he informed me that it was all over, and that all went picture perfect.
I was speechless. Holy cow….that was wild! My amazement at going out then back without even realizing it was eclipsed only by the relief of having survived.
As they readied me to be moved from the room, I asked if I was out the whole time. I was shocked when he told me that I was awake and talking to him during the entire procedure, giving him feedback on what I was feeling at certain stages. That blew my mind. It’s so cool what these guys can do with drugs.
I was formally diagnosed with a myocardial infarction involving the LAD. That means....a heart attack caused by a plugged up left anterior descending artery. In case you don't know....the LAD provides the vast majority of your heart's blood supply, and, in it's plugged up state, according to the info I was given, is the most common cause of death in men.
In my case....the doctor did angioplasty, but the artery closed back up. Therefore, he installed a stent. A stent is a small tubular metallic device that is permanently installed in the artery to help hold the artery open. In addition to the stent, I have to take 4 pills every morning, and 2 in the evening. These are blood thinners, blood pressure pills, a cholesterol reducer and a beta blocker.
I'll have to take meds every day for the rest of my life. Sound fun? Oh, it's not too bad, until it's time to renew my prescriptions. The meds I have to take add up to over $400 per month. That kinda throws a damper on things doesn't it? Welcome to my life.
Now, several months later, I look back upon this experience with sadness. It marked the end of my youth and the beginning of old age. No….I’m not really old….but just the thought of having to take medications every day to keep me alive, makes me feel old in many ways.
Like most young men, I never worried very much about death or being disabled. I felt good, looked good, and expected nothing like this to occur until I was at least in my late 50’s. But it just goes to show you how life can be sometimes.
As a result of the heart attack, I’ve suffered depression and angst, fear and constant anxiety. I was not able to continue the career I enjoyed so, and was forced to re-align my priorities and go a different direction. Every little strange sensation causes me to stop all I’m doing, to listen to my body, expecting at any time to be hit again with a pain you just can’t stop. It’s hard to live like this, but I have to. I have no choice.
The purpose for this essay is to enlighten and educate. I was lucky, damned lucky, for every day thousands across this planet don’t get the opportunity for a second chance at life like I have.
No, I'm not bitter. Well, maybe I am a little bitter, but deep inside I suspect that everything happens for a reason.
By 10:20pm or so I had finished eating and was cleaning up the kitchen. I wasn’t stressed or upset, nor was I fatigued or strained in any way. I was tired from working all day, yes, but in no way exhausted or stressed. It was then that it hit.
As I was about to exit the kitchen, I quickly developed a very sharp, burning sensation in the center of my chest. When it arrived, I just thought that I had eaten something a bit too hot, and surmised that it had mildly irritated my esophagus. I drank 2 glasses of ice water, then a small glass of milk, hoping that the coolness would suffice to ease the now worsening discomfort. Well, no such luck. Though I was far from being panicked, I was wishing with all I had that it would soon pass.
I recall stopping and debating whether or not this was digestive in nature, or a heart attack. Yes….the H word did pop into my head. However, the pain was very localized and seemed like it was right above where I assumed the top of my stomach to be. What I can now refer to as a localized pain, can only be likened to a burning chunk of charcoal resting right above my stomach. It was a searing kind of pain, as if something was literally on fire in my esophagus. There were no shooting pains over to or down my left arm, no pains up into my jaw area, nor was there any shortness of breath or tightness in my chest. Though I was beginning to get very worried, I still held out hope that this was a bad bad bad bad case of heartburn.
Within 2 minutes of its onset, the terrible pain, which I affectionately refer to as ‘horribly heinous’, had my total attention and nearly rendered me unable to do much other than drop to the floor in agony. I ordered myself to remain standing, then walked…..slowly….to my bedroom. I laid down on the bed to see if changing the gravitational pull on my body would effect the pain. It didn’t. In fact, I think it got a little worse.
After lying on the bed for a moment or two debating what I should do, I began feeling sick to my stomach. I had to puke. After dragging myself to the bathroom and emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet, I fully expected to feel a little better. Since I felt sick to my stomach, I, in my very fearful opinion, assumed that it must be a digestive issue. However, the burning was still there and getting worse by the minute.
I went back to my bedroom and sat down on my bed and again thought about what I should do. If I called 911 and went to the emergency room, I worried that I’d make a big embarrassing scene only to be told it was just a minor issue. I didn’t call my room mate, since I didn’t want to drag him away from whatever he was doing, then later find out it was a false alarm, making me feel bad for disrupting his life. So I decided to drive to the drug store approximately a mile from the house, buy some maalox or something like that and see if that would relieve my pain. I put on some sweats, grabbed my wallet and my cell phone and headed to my truck.
The drive to the drug store, now, looking back, seems more like a dream than anything. I was in a dazed agony and fortunately don’t recall much about it other than how I wished I drove a rocket ship instead of a pickup truck.
I really can’t stress strongly enough how painful this was. I’ve never experienced anything like it in my 37 years. It was a horrible searing unrelenting pain that would not let up one tiny bit no matter what I did. It was very difficult to stand up, let alone walk. My face was blood red from the straining to keep going as I walked into the store. I hoped….out loud….that the stomach remedy aisle would be easy to find.
I located the correct aisle and picked up something maximum strength and fast-acting. I struggled to the front of the store and paid the 6 bucks for the medicine. As I walked out of the store I tore open the lid and drank several mouthfuls of the horribly flavored concoction. With each step I took towards my truck, I realized more vividly that it wasn’t helping, therefore, I must be having a heart attack. I climbed into the truck and thought about my next move. I was getting weak, as well as sick to my stomach again.
Since I knew there is a small, fairly new hospital 3 or 4 miles from where I was, I decided to head off in that direction. I was very new to the city and had no idea what the quickest route to it would be. However, I was going there one way or another.
As I drove toward the exit to the street, I saw a police car parked on the shoulder right next to the edge of the parking lot. I drove to a grassy area next to the police car, exited my truck and started the 50 foot stumble toward it.
By this time I had been in pain, I’m guessing, around 15 minutes. The time was after 10:30pm so it was totally dark outside on this February 2004 night. One or two lights illuminated the area next to the drug store, so I could at least see where I was going as I walked across the grass and through the shallow ditch that stood between me and the police car.
Having been in the security business in the past, I know that police officers do NOT like people to walk up on them as they sit in their car. Therefore, I made sure the officer, a young woman around 25 years old, saw me clearly and could plainly tell that I was in extreme distress. I squatted next to her car as she rolled down the window.
Me: (out of breath and obviously in pain) Can you tell me how to get to the nearest hospital?
Her: (very concerned) Why, is something wrong?
Me: Well…..I think I’m having a heart attack.
A look of shock and surprise flashed across her face, but she handled it brilliantly.
Her: Wouldn’t it be better if I called an ambulance for you? If you think you are having a heart attack, you shouldn’t be driving. It wouldn't be safe since you might pass out and kill yourself and some family in an accident. They could be here in just a couple of minutes.
I looked over my shoulder at the truck.
Just the thought of walking back to it made me agree with her.
Me: (wincing) Yeah….that might be a pretty good idea….can you call them?
By that time, she was already on her radio, requesting assistance.
I thanked her and leaned up against her car. Within 30 seconds, another police car pulled up in front of hers with it’s rotating lights on. A male officer got out of it and asked what was wrong. I told him I think I’m having a heart attack. As the female officer got out of her vehicle, they both suggested that I sit down on the nearby curb. I did as suggested.
As I sat there in the dark, all alone in this strange city, I simply could not believe this was happening to me. I had just moved there and started a new job a week earlier, so my insurance wouldn’t be going into effect for another 10 days. I had no family or friends within 1500 miles, and there I was, on the verge of kicking the bucket on the side of the road. Sheeesh…..what luck eh?
After 2 or 3 minutes of enduring some stupid questions from the male officer about what I had eaten that day, a faint hint of a siren in the distance broke the serene silence of the evening. As it got louder, my mind was racing….
I hope this isn’t just a simple digestive thing, but then again I really don’t want it to be a heart attack either. I was torn between embarrassment and bankruptcy, when actually all I should have been concerned with was staying alive long enough to see my children and my wife just one more time. Realizing that, I was ashamed at my own thoughts, and decided that whatever happens, I have no plans to die tonight.
To my surprise, a fire truck rolled into the parking lot. Two firemen exited it and approached me with a suitcase and an oxygen bottle. The first one, whom I assumed was in charge, began asking me a series of questions about what I was feeling right then, the series of events leading up to his arrival, what I had eaten earlier, and if I was on any medication. I answered his questions as he strapped a clear mask over my mouth and nose. He told me to just breath deeply and try to stay calm. He informed me that an ambulance was on its way and should be there any minute.
It was about this time that I came upon the realization that…, “Oh shit, this is serious. I am actually having a friggin heart attack! I could pass out at any moment.”
The ambulance soon arrived and 2 burly guys got out of it. The larger of the two came over to the firetruck I was sitting next to, got a run down of my vitals from the fireman, then proceeded to ask me pretty much the same questions the fireman had asked.
(All emergency folks must attend some course that teaches them to ask what people ate last)
The 2nd ambulance guy was unloading a wheeled bed for me. I rolled my eyes. Oh great.
They helped me climb up onto the wheeled bed and told me to relax as they strapped me on. I was sooo thankful when I saw that they weren’t going to put a neck brace on me like you always see on TV. I laughed to myself.
Once in the ambulance, the leader of the pair began checking my pulse and blood pressure, then he initiated radio contact with the hospital. He was giving them a lot of info about me and my condition, as the other guy sat down to start an IV in my right arm.
I asked him if he was any good at starting IV’s. He seemed a bit insulted by my question, but eventually answered “yes” as he cleaned the planned IV site with an alcohol pad. I watched as he poked me 4 times, without any success. At that point, I told him to stop and let the other guy try it in the other arm. Once again, he seemed insulted, but heck, that shit hurts. One needle going in you is bad enough, but when someone has made four unsuccessful attempts, it’s time to try something different. Of course, the other guy hit the vein on my left arm on his first try. I was so glad.
While the leader of the two resumed his radio communications, and putting little EKG monitor stickers all over my torso, the other guy got behind the wheel and started us on our way.
Within a few seconds I noticed that we were going in the opposite direction of the hospital I mentioned earlier. I asked the EMT why. He then explained that they were taking me to the bigger, better equipped hospital about 10 minutes away. Sounded good to me, so I laid back and relaxed, allowing myself to be lulled a bit by the wailing siren we emitted into the darkness.
Throughout all of this, I resolved to chill out and stay as calm as possible. I was asking questions and cutting up a bit with the EMT, but he didn’t really seem interested in visiting. I suppose that what he knew, and I didn’t, was that I could die at any second. Now, several months later, I hear stories that folks tell me about their uncle or grandfather who had the same thing happen that I did, but they keeled over and croaked before emergency people arrived. Man, I was indeed lucky to be in that ambulance.
He kept checking the EKG readout and asking me about my pain level. I told him, on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst possible pain known to mankind, I was hovering at a good solid 7.38. It wasn’t as bad as it had been at home, but was still pretty bad.
He radioed the hospital again to give them an update as we flew down the road. I pictured us blasting past red lights, and people pulling over unemotionally to the side of the road as the ambulance passed, then continuing on their journey to taco bell or wherever they were going.
After exchanging some medical terminology over the radio, my attendant instructed me to open my mouth and raise my tongue. He then sprayed something with a tart flavor under my tongue and told me I’d have a splitting headache in a few seconds. I waited. Nope. No pain in my head. He seemed frustrated, then sprayed the stuff under my tongue again. I was anxious for the headache to hit me, but uh uh, nuttin. “The stuff isn’t working.” I told him.
He sprayed the chemical (which I was later told is nitro glycerin) one more time, and finally, I started to feel a head rush of sorts. That’s apparently what we were shooting for, because he didn’t spray any more. He asked me if my chest felt any better. At that moment I really couldn’t tell, but once I thought about it, I agreed that the pain was a tiny bit less than it had been moments before, but I was still very uncomfortable.
I asked him point blank if I was having a heart attack. He said that he isn’t a doctor, so he can’t make a diagnosis. I said I understand, then I asked a different question. “In your experience with numerous cases similar to mine, and taking into consideration the stuff you can see on that EKG readout, would it be logical for me to surmise that it is highly likely that I am having a heart attack?” He replied with a slight smile, “Right now we’re blazing down the road with lights and sirens, desperately trying to get you to the hospital as fast as possible. And Jeff, lemme tell ya, we rarely do that. So, whudda you think?”
Though I knew the answer before even asking, I replied, “Wonderful.”
I asked him how long till we arrive at the hospital. He said 2 or 3 minutes. I pulled the cell out of my pocket and called my room mate Stephen. He was freaking out, since he had driven by the commotion at the drugstore, saw a truck that looked like mine parked nearby, but wasn’t for sure, since it was pretty dark. I told him yes, I’m on my way to the hospital with what looks like a heart attack. I was mostly concerned with someone notifying my family in case I exited stage left. He was still in a state of amazed horror, but told me he’d see me in the ER as fast as he could get there. Though I had only known the guy for a couple of weeks, it calmed me and made me feel pretty good that he was already a friend I could count on when I needed him most. As I watched my life flash before my eyes, I felt extremely lonely and a little scared, and needed all the support I could get.
Everything that occurred over the next 2 or 3 minutes, from the time the ambulance stopped until I was moved from the wheeled ambulance bed and onto the hospital bed, was a blur. I don’t remember any of it at all.
The next thing I do recall is about 4 or 5 people hovering over me, asking me a lot of questions, (yes, some were about what I had eaten) taking my blood pressure, taking blood, checking my temperature and sticking more of those patches all over my upper body so they could hook me up to a heart monitor. I asked why they didn’t just use the same patches that the ambulance dude put on me. The nurse replied that they weren’t compatible. I made a mental note to suggest later that they simplify the process by using compatible equipment.
A nurse to my left was hooking me up to an IV, while a nurse on my right was trying to start another one in the same place that the driver failed to start one at in the ambulance. Eventually, I talked them into starting the second IV in my left arm, since it seemed to have easier to locate and puncture veins. They did as I requested and hit the vein on the first try, taped it down and capped it off. In frustration I asked them what the sense was in putting me through that painful ordeal, when all they were going to do was cap it off. They explained, in a practiced tone, that they always have 2 IV’s, in case they have to pump me full of large amounts of meds all at once. I said…”Oh…ok….makes sense I rekkin.”
The doctor then came in, looked at all the machines I was hooked up to, read some papers the nurses had been scribbling on, which I assumed contained all the info gathered on me thus far, then asked me to tell him the whole story from the moment the pain first hit me. As he listened to me, surprisingly attentively, I told him the entire story. It took me a good 5 minutes, then I sat back to await the verdict.
He said, “Well…..you are having a heart attack. We’ve already contacted the Cardiologist on call, and he is now on his way up here to examine you and see what he can do. Until he arrives, we’ll keep you stabilized and give you some morphine to ease your pain a bit.” Within seconds, a nurse walked in and injected a syringe full of clear liquid into my IV.
I remember thinking…”Yessss!!!…..MORPHINE!!!” I’ve always wondered what it felt like when they jack you up with that stuff. I smiled as I awaited it’s presence in my system.
If you’ve never had morphine injected directly into your bloodstream in copious amounts, I’ll try to describe it. It was almost worth it to have a heart attack, just to satisfy my curiosity.
Over the years of watching the ER shows on the discovery channel, I’ve seen them, on numerous occasions give folks morphine via IV. They always seem to feel better afterward, so I knew it had to be good stuff.
Within mere seconds after the injection there is a distinct warmth that begins at the site of the IV, then spreads throughout your body over the next 45 seconds or so. Though I expected it to make me forget who I was as soon as it reached my brain, I was a bit disappointed that my first noticeable reaction to it was pain cessation. Well, not really cessation per se, but rather, I didn’t care so much about the pain due to morphine’s remarkable ability to help you to not give a shit. Sorry, but that’s the easiest way to characterize the sensation it creates. I was still hurting, but silly things like the colors of the nurses uniforms mesmerized me for a moment or three, helping me to forget that I was in pain.
Then came the loopiness. Finally, no pain, and I was stoned. What better way to go through an experience like this. I recall thinking to myself how it was perfectly obvious to me now why people would or could become a morphine junkie. If someone could bottle that feeling and sell it legally, they’d be a billionaire. Man, that morphine is good stuff.
Ok, back to the story.
The cardiologist showed up. I liked him immediately because….well…..he was going to save my life. That, and the fact that he was wearing a Texas t-shirt, served to make me feel more at home. I had been living in Texas for two years prior to moving to South Carolina three weeks before this night.
He sat down and calmly explained what he felt was the wisest course of action, which was to do angioplasty to open up the blocked artery and effectively stop the heart attack in its tracks. He explained that it was not without risks, but that any possible risks were far outweighed by the HUGE risk I’d be taking by refusing to let him do what he was suggesting. Like anyone with any sense, I consented. Immediately I was whisked away down a hallway and into a waiting elevator by his two assistants. The following hour or so was the weirdest part of my adventure.
I recall being put onto a table and stripped nude and covered with a blanket. The male assistant began shaving a part of my groin area, while the 2 females began rapidly dressing the area around me for the surgical procedure. I was, as usual, asking questions and cutting up a bit, but they weren’t responding.
I asked them why they were in such a hurry. One of the females stopped long enough to look me in the eye and told me, “We are desperately trying to save your life, so we are preparing this room, and you, for this procedure as fast as humanly possible. Do you understand?” I nodded, and didn’t speak to them any more.
Once the doctor came into view, I asked him to knock me out for the procedure. I explained that I was terrified and did not want to be awake and conscious of him digging around inside me. Just the thought of that gave me the creeps. He told me not to worry, that he’d make sure I feel nothing, and that I’d remember none of it. That calmed me, so I sat back and waited for the festivities to begin.
I remember looking up at the ceiling and counting the tiles hanging above me. The doctor asked me if I could hear his voice. I told him that I could, then he informed me that it was all over, and that all went picture perfect.
I was speechless. Holy cow….that was wild! My amazement at going out then back without even realizing it was eclipsed only by the relief of having survived.
As they readied me to be moved from the room, I asked if I was out the whole time. I was shocked when he told me that I was awake and talking to him during the entire procedure, giving him feedback on what I was feeling at certain stages. That blew my mind. It’s so cool what these guys can do with drugs.
I was formally diagnosed with a myocardial infarction involving the LAD. That means....a heart attack caused by a plugged up left anterior descending artery. In case you don't know....the LAD provides the vast majority of your heart's blood supply, and, in it's plugged up state, according to the info I was given, is the most common cause of death in men.
In my case....the doctor did angioplasty, but the artery closed back up. Therefore, he installed a stent. A stent is a small tubular metallic device that is permanently installed in the artery to help hold the artery open. In addition to the stent, I have to take 4 pills every morning, and 2 in the evening. These are blood thinners, blood pressure pills, a cholesterol reducer and a beta blocker.
I'll have to take meds every day for the rest of my life. Sound fun? Oh, it's not too bad, until it's time to renew my prescriptions. The meds I have to take add up to over $400 per month. That kinda throws a damper on things doesn't it? Welcome to my life.
Now, several months later, I look back upon this experience with sadness. It marked the end of my youth and the beginning of old age. No….I’m not really old….but just the thought of having to take medications every day to keep me alive, makes me feel old in many ways.
Like most young men, I never worried very much about death or being disabled. I felt good, looked good, and expected nothing like this to occur until I was at least in my late 50’s. But it just goes to show you how life can be sometimes.
As a result of the heart attack, I’ve suffered depression and angst, fear and constant anxiety. I was not able to continue the career I enjoyed so, and was forced to re-align my priorities and go a different direction. Every little strange sensation causes me to stop all I’m doing, to listen to my body, expecting at any time to be hit again with a pain you just can’t stop. It’s hard to live like this, but I have to. I have no choice.
The purpose for this essay is to enlighten and educate. I was lucky, damned lucky, for every day thousands across this planet don’t get the opportunity for a second chance at life like I have.
No, I'm not bitter. Well, maybe I am a little bitter, but deep inside I suspect that everything happens for a reason.
I guess the moral to this story is……always expect the unexpected, tell those you love how you feel about them, call 911 if you have a terrible pain, and if it does happen to you.......don’t give up.
Thank you for your time. Be kind to each other.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Weird News
The crazy things that people do that lands them in the news never ceases to amaze me. Though with the billions of Humans on this planet, I spose anything is possible. As I surf the web and check out the headlines from across the globe I find myself shaking my head in shock and amazement more and more these days. While a lot of what I read disgusts me, what bothers me most of all are those who murder and torture and do other wretched things to their fellow Humans, some of which are their own flesh and blood relatives and spouses. People killing their kids is happening more and more it seems, and what about all these teachers having sexual relationships with youngsters in their schools? Is insanity and bizarre behavior becoming the norm? Geez, it seems so. Below are a few weird news stories I have happened across recently. Do you feel the same? Are you amazed that our world is becoming a breeding ground of weirdos and lunatics and strangeness?
1...As you likely are aware, arranged marriages are common in many parts of the world. Why this would seem like a good idea that anyone would want to participate in is beyond me. Often-times these arranged nuptials are set up by family members when the brides and grooms are mere children less than 10 yrs old and the marriages are put into action without the bride and groom ever having laid eyes on each other or knowing anything about their soon to be spouse other than their name. In the case you can learn about by clicking on the link at the end of this paragraph, an arranged marriage between some Muslims resulted in a sad situation. Since, as we all know, Muslim women are not allowed to be viewed by any males other than their spouse or men they are related to, and typically wear the hijab coverings from head to toe any time they are out of their homes, it isn't until AFTER the marriage ceremony that the new husband gets to view his new bride. Well, needless to say, this often results in shock and disappointment if his new wife isn't up to par in the looks department. If a man doesn't find his wife attractive, or wants out of the marriage for any other reason, he need only renounce her three times publicly and the wedding has been annulled, resulting understandably in the hurt feelings of the jilted bride. This situation apparently comes up quite often. Here's a story about one such event: I MARRIED HER??
2...A mom in Texas went off the deep end and murdered her 3 and a half week old baby boy. Apparently this crazy woman had been on and off her meds and in and out of mental hospitals for years. Next, some moron trying to get himself a piece of tail decided that out of all the available females in Texas, it would be a good idea to get THIS woman (with multiple recent psychotic episodes under her belt) pregnant. After she had the baby everything seemed ok for a bit, then one day mom started hearing voices telling her that the devil had moved into her baby's body. After a couple weeks of trying to ignore these voices, she finally gives in and decides to solve the problem. Well, the only way to get rid of the devil, as we all know, is to horrifically attack and murder the poor person with the devil inside them, so she did. But it doesn't end there. OHHHH no. She stabbed the baby to death, disemboweled little Scotty all over the floor, cut off his head, peeled the skin off his body with a knife, bit his toes off, then plucked the brain out of the decapitated head and proceeded to eat her precious newborn child's brain. If you are a parent...or anyone for that matter...could you imagine how whacked out your mind would have to be before you would kill or even harm anyone, let alone a child, let alone your OWN child? Ugh, it's sickening, but it happened. Want to read more about this story? Mom ate her baby.
3...Down in Arkansas there is a gun store / gun club / shooting range that has banned Muslims from using the facility. They aren't welcome there at all and will be asked to leave if they wander in wanting to rent a gun and use the indoor range. Apparently a while back a father and son (who are of Indian descent but are American citizens) were a little too brown for the gun range owner's personal taste. She questioned them a bit, but I guess didn't believe them when they said "we are Hindu, not Muslims", because she asked them to exit the premises, or else she would call the police. They left, but reported this situation to the authorities and the the news channels. I can totally understand why these gentlemen would be offended, but on the other hand I can totally understand why the gun range owner has banned Muslims from her establishment. Based upon the way the world is going, and after reading up on the Qu'ran, she's determined that the Nation of Islam is not a religion, but rather an attempt at establishing a governmental type relationship with their followers that states in their holy (law) book that it's a requirement that anyone who isn't Muslim or who refuses to convert to Islam, needs to be killed (preferably by removing their head with a dull knife or in a hail of bullets). As such, she sees her Muslim ban as an honest attempt to protect herself and her customers from a group of people who have already made it clear that they want to kill all non-Muslims. Business is booming and she has the full support of those who frequent her establishment. Want to read the gun club owner's reasons for banning Muslims? Click here > Muslim Free Zone
4...Remember the book that came out in 2010 called the Boy Who Came Back From Heaven? It's the story of a 6 yr old boy and how he was badly injured and left in a 2 month coma and was paralyzed after a car accident. After waking up he announced that while he was out, he visited heaven and met Jesus etc etc. It was a big deal for Christians to hear this story and learn about all the wonderful things awaiting them once they cross over and go to heaven after death. It sold over a million copies, as the book has been carried in scads of Christian and mainstream bookstores across the land for more than 4 years. Unfortunately, though, bookstore owners are now starting to pull these books and their related products off the shelves and people are complaining about being ripped off and lied to. Why, you ask? Because earlier this week the boy, Alex Malarkey (a fitting last name) has released a statement saying that he made it all up. Yup, he says he just did it for attention. Want to read the story? Boy Lied About Heaven
5...Last but not least, another tidbit about the Islamic belief system. And no, I am not picking on Muslims, in future blogs you will see that I have an equal disdain for pretty much all religion in general. Stay tuned for that...it'll surely curl your toes. But anyway....ahem...Muslims have now been told that it is a SIN to make snowmen. Gulp! WTF?? Yessir, some Saudi cleric has told Muslims to stop making snowmen with your kids because it's against the holy scriptures and just out right anti-Islamic ! Don't believe me? Check this out > Snowman = EVIL
Thanks for your time. Be kind to each other !
Friday, January 16, 2015
The Bigfoot Issue...for the Beginner
The
question regarding the existence of a usually nocturnal
man-like hairy hominid with huge feet and an uncanny ability to avoid
being detected and seen and recorded while living in the woods and
meadows across the USA and other countries, is indeed a fascinating
one. I've been interested in the subject since I was a kid back in
the 70's and remain today intricately interested in the subject. I
subscribe to a couple of blogs and websites on the topic, as well as
a dozen or so YouTube channels on the subject of Sasquatch/Bigfoot.
Some of
these YouTube channels are really cool, in that the researchers are
going out in the woods with their HD video cameras and documenting
their attempts to either find evidence of, catch a glimpse of, or
interact with these shadowy creatures. While more often than not,
these people are coming up empty....occasionally they post video
evidence that wows the kid in all of us, and shows us that there just
might be something to this whole Bigfoot thing. In the future I plan
to discuss some of the wretched politics revolving around the Bigfoot
world, but today I just want to lightly discuss the topic for those
of you who want to get an idea of what's going on without having to
do hours of research into the topic.
Where do
you stand on the subject? Do you feel that all of us believers are
nuts, that there is no way on Earth that this creature could possibly
exist? Well, if that's the case, you might want to rethink the
subject. More and more people these day, both laymen and academics
alike, are starting to give this area of research a second look. The
fact that more believers are coming around every day is NOT an
indication that they actually exist. Instead, more and better
techniques of gathering and recording evidence are being put into
play every day, and this is resulting in more and harder evidence
coming to light that is becoming more difficult for the world to
ignore.
My
personal view on the Bigfoot/Sasquatch topic is thus; Though I need
some really good evidence or a personal experience to definitely know
they exist, I believe that it is entirely possible that a hairy 8
foot ape/human type 'creature' may exist in the wild wooded areas
where mankind typically doesn't go. Entirely too many sightings and
reports of these creatures continue to stream in for it to be likely
that they are all imagining things. While some may be tricks of
shadowy light or mis-identification of some other known creature, an
increasing number of sightings and reports that are made public are
coming from dependable eye witnesses who are either trained
observers, wildlife experts, law enforcement, or other people who
possess spotless and respectable reputations within their
communities. While I suspect that these believable witnesses have
always been seeing these things, they've tended to keep it to
themselves to avoid the public scorn which has historically followed
behind those who claim to have seen one of these creatures. Due to
the increased mainstream discussion about the subject in every day
media in our society, it is only now, that more and more people are
coming forth to talk about what they saw or experienced.
Evidence
that Bigfoot may be in the area tends to be....stick structures,
either X's or small teepee-like structures, nesting areas, trees,
both dead and alive, are being pushed down to block paths, and are
sometimes occurring while the researcher is nearby. Footprints, both
singular and as a part of a trackway are being found across the
country in many hotspots. Tree knocking happens quite often, and
howls have been recorded and analyzed by experts in the vocal calls
of known animals. Some of which cannot be identified as a known
animal.
Bigfoot
creatures are often seen crossing roads or paths in wilderness areas
such as around lakes and within state parks and national forests.
Hunters and bike riders and campers and families walking the dog and
senior citizens just going for a relaxing walk with a loved one, all
are seeing Bigfoot.
Hikers
and campers enjoying the wooded areas are sometimes assailed by rocks
flying at them from unseen sources, while grunts and growls and
rustling in nearby bushes are scaring the bejesus out of others.
People awakened in tents in the early morning hours are hearing
two-legged footfalls moving around outside and within their camping
areas, and some have even had a hand or a knee or some other body
part of an unknown creature push in the side of the tent fabric mere
inches from the faces of terrified people within. When the people get
the guts to exit their tent and shine a light around the area, most
often they only catch a glimpse of some hairy creature on two feet
disappearing into the nearby woods or brush. However there have been
a few reports of these people finding themselves standing face to
face with an 8 foot menacing creature, staring at them as if they are
as shocked to see the person, as the person is to see them.
Bigfoot
not only visits camp sites, but home sites as well. There are many
documented cases where Bigfoot regularly or sporadically makes
appearances close to houses near wooded areas. They've been known to
tap or scratch on walls, or move things around, or steal pet food, or
just walk through the yard. Some of these cases involve dogs barking
and people looking out windows and seeing a huge man-like hairy
creature standing in the yard or nearby treeline, while others are of
a much more personal nature. The reports that truly get to me are the
ones where someone will be in the house doing normal household
things. They may hear something or just get a hankering to look out a
window, and find themselves looking face to face into the eyes, mere
inches away, of one of these creatures that had apparently been
watching them for who knows how long. This truly gives me the creeps
and would likely result in my funeral if it happened to me. However,
oddly enough, according to the vast majority of reports.....Bigfoot
tends to be curious but harmless. Yes, one may think, umm, they are
throwing huge rocks at people and growling and that doesn't sound too
friendly. You are correct. But if they truly wanted to harm or kill
you, they easily could accomplish that without much effort at all.
While there are some sporadic reports of seemingly violent encounters
with these creatures, the overwhelming statistics indicate that they
do not want to harm us, and instead just want us to get out of their
area and are willing to scare us to accomplish that result.
While
there are a growing number of academics looking more closely at this
topic, the vast majority of so called mainstream scientists avoid the
subject of Bigfoot and Sasquatch for fear of being regarded with
disdain within the scientific community. They simply label it as a
myth, and stick to safer things to discuss or research. Although
dozens of new species of previously unknown mammals, birds, plants
and insects are discovered every year, for some reason the 'official'
scientific community refuses to acknowledge the loads of sightings,
evidence, both actual and anecdotal that is uncovered on a regular
basis. They most likely prefer to wait until the creature is proven
to exist, then try to get their piece of the pie at that point.
Until
that occurs, dedicated researchers will continue searching and
gathering evidence and sighting reports. I look forward to the day
when it's common knowledge that Bigfoot actually exists. That way we
can finally conduct well funded research that most likely will result
in them being placed in protected status by the federal wildlife
agencies.
Thanks
for your time. Be kind to each other.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Kids and education (or lack thereof) today
I'm getting old. Yeah, it happens to all of us I rekkin. As a fella approaching 'old guy' status, I am more and more irked by many things I find myself surrounded by in this world. Back when I was a youngster... I can recall, vaguely, encountering adults who were angry at the world and bossy and so devoid of fun and laughter that I wondered why they didn't just go crawl off in a hole somewhere. Seemed to me that it would have been better suited for their 'angriness'. Well, as I approach 50, at least some of the behaviors exhibited by those geezers are starting to make a little sense to me now. While I don't condone nastiness for the sake of being nasty, I do harbor a well founded bit of frustration about a good many things I see daily in this world....especially online.
Education these days. WTF is going on in our homes and schools these days in regards to teaching our children about the world around them, their own bodies, how they communicate and how they interact with the world today? From what I see around the web, most youngsters are receiving very little effective education. These are the people who will be sculpting the future of our world.
If you ever want to get a good taste at how stupid our youngsters are today, go visit Facebook, or Yahoo answers. After a mere 8 or 10 minutes in either place, you will find yourself amazed and disgusted at how empty headed our prodigy actually are. Perhaps not all of them.....but a good deal of them are not receiving a decent education. Here are a few examples of our youngsters' brilliance on Facebook. I found these on websites that point out these same issues:
Next.....some examples of things our young people are asking about on Yahoo answers website. Instead of learning from their parents or reading a book or researching things on the web, they go to this website and ask some the stupidest questions I have ever seen:
Any good nail biting books?
Additionally, there are many young women and girls who aren't aware that any kind of unprotected sex can cause pregnancy, and many teens out there know very little about what their period is or how it works. As for teen boys, there are many daily questions submitted about penis size. A great number of them are seriously concerned about whether they are 'normal'.
Ugh.....truly disappointing. There are other issues about our youngsters, but I will save those issues for another day.
Thanks for your time. Be kind to each other.
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