Survival and embarrassment

Hokay, I survived the EMG today. Actually, 'twasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared.

I got there early, which was a boon as the hapless person who was scheduled before me was late arriving, so I was able to get right in. No waiting and dreading and imagining all manner of torment. The test consisted of the doctor sending a few electrical shocks through some of the muscles in me lower legs. That was uncomfortable, truth be told, but not anywhere near excruciating. It made me legs jump - imagine that, an electrical shock to one's muscles will make the affected muscles contract! - and irritated the associated nerves (hence, the pain), but the pain was fleeting.

After that, he did stick a needle into some muscles, but only in four places. 'Twas a small needle, so really didn't hurt as much as it does when blood is drawn. And that was that. Hel, I didn't even bleed afterwards, dammit! No blood for the wounded Warrior to point to for maidens' sympathy and loving ministrations. Woe is me!

Do I feel like a fool, or what? I feel like a complete idjit, I do. But I do thank you for thinking good thoughts of me.

Methinks I'll crawl back into me hole now.

The Auld Scot

Fear and loathing in the woods

This is really a personal post, meant mostly for my own comfort, what wee bit I can derive from it. It's probably futile, but maybe it's worth the try. If nowt else, I'll share some of my angst and trepidations with the world - what wee part of the world that reads this, anyway.

I have to go for a medical test tomorrow and it's scaring the bejaysus out of me. It's only an EMG, but I've heard those things can be excruciating. Y'see, if ye dinna ken what the things are, the doc (or mad scientist, if ye prefer) sticks a bunch of needles into your muscles and reads the electrical activity therein. Now, Dr. Frankenstein doesn't just stick the needle in, get his reading, and get the hel out - oh, no, he has to take a reading when your muscle is at rest (huh! as if any muscle with a needle in it can truly be at rest). Then, he leaves the freakin' needle there, makes you move the muscle around, and takes a second reading.

And, he doesn't just test one muscle, either. Nope. He tests all of 'em in the target area - in this case, me legs (both of 'em, of course). Now, I looked this test up on Web-MD and learned that, not only can it be "extremely painful," but, because it's an invasive procedure (medicalese for any medical procedure wherein the patient's skin is penetrated, or invaded), it can bleed at the puncture sites and - and - lead to infection. Oh, the bliss just keeps on comin'.

So, I'm more than a bit frightened. Me. The big, auld former combat medic and paramedic. Y'see, like I've told numerous patients and others over the years, I dinna' like pain, which is one of the reasons I became a medic in the first place - to do what I could to ease pain.

I think I'm gonna' come back home tomorrow when 'tis all over and go right straight on the mother of all pity trips. I'll probably also imbibe some powerful Scot's anesthetic (such as Cú Dhubh), but I have to be at work at 0615 the next morning, so my intake will be perforce limited.

By the way, dinna' think I'm looking for pity or sympathy. Nope. I just wanted to vent a bit. Thanks for reading.

The Auld Scot

And the winner is>>>

We have a winner!

The correct answer to my quiz was ... *drum roll, please* nothing. That's right, not a damn thing, nada, zilch, nowt, nuttin', nunca, zero, (insert your own synonym). And the winner of the contest is ... *more drum roll, then a breathless hush of anticipation* Alia! Congratulations, m'lady. *and the crowd goes mild!* You win this fabulous prize: bragging rights!!!! Yes, you win uninhibited bragging rights for your correct answer to our contest. You may use these rights wherever and whenever you choose, without penalty or constraint. Some restrictions apply. Void where taxed, restricted, or legally banned. Batteries not included.

Okay. That's the end of that silliness. Time now to be serious. Or, maybe not. Tell me, is Life really supposed to be serious? Or is that just the wish of the humorless?

A very close friend of mine once sent me a photocopy of a headline from her local paper. It read: "Scientists say there is no scientific evidence that life is serious." On the other hand, there are a great many who declare with unbridled authority that Life is, indeed, not only serious, but totally devoid of the merest shred of humor. Why, laughter - even the slightest chuckle - is heresy to these people.

So, who's right? Or, as is the case in much of life, is the answer somewhere in between?

I'd like to see your opinions.

The Auld Scot

Have a Happy

May you all have a wonderful day tomorrow, one filled with light, love, and laughter. If tomorrow's Christmas for you, merry Christmas; if 'tis but a well-deserved day of rest, rest well.

Now, here's a wee quiz for ye to while away a few minutes: It's a common seven-letter word. Rich people don't have it, the poor have little else but; it's more evil than Satan, more powerful than God (or the gods, if ye're polytheistic), and existed before the gods. What is it? the answer in a few days. If ye think ye ken, please post your guess here.

The Auld Scot

A short trip to the Dark Side

Forgive me, my friends, for I have sinned. It has been, ohhh, at least a week or twa since my last post. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea freakin' culpa.

I've read a (very) few blogs and understand them to be sort of online journals. Well, I happen to be a journalist - in both the sense of keeping a personal journal and of being a member of the press. I like to write, especially in me journal. I can write anything and be censored only by meself. The problem comes in writing in this electronic journal. Here, y'see, my censors are legion, to steal a phrase.

Time, too, is a problem; at least with the job I have now, although that may soon not be a factor. Yes, I'm in danger of losing my job - right in time for the holidays, thankyouverymuch. I'll get into some details of that sad tale in a bit. For now, I'm on another track, so bear with me.

My journal, y'see, is highly personal -- part diary wherein I lambaste those who dare to anger me or indulge in some of the greatest self-pity mankind has ever seen. I could - and should - win an Oscar for the pity I bestow upon myself. Anyway, I've found it takes a great deal of courage to open this particular onion to public eyes.

I probably will, in time, but it'll be a bit slow in coming.

Okay, the part I'm sure you all have waiting for: my job woes. Well, to those of you who don't know, I work as a phlebotomist for the local blood bank, legally known as the Community Blood Center of Greater Kansas City, Inc.

I've worked there for going on 2-1/2 years now. I've come to realize that this position is all I'll ever be allowed to obtain. For some reason (I have plenty of ideas about those, but no proof), I will never be promoted, but will always be relegated to phlebotomist status.

Well, the other day, I was called into the overseer's (oops, I mean manager's) office. Seems they think I'm just not fast enough in performing my duties. Of course, they've thought this since I began, but never give any specific or precise data to support their acusations. I was asked to sign this document wherein I was informed that I would improve my speed within an idefinite period of time or face further disciplinary action. The last paragraph of the Employee Acknowledgement section said that I understand I am in serious trouble and in jeopardy of losing my job.

Ya know, I find this both threatening and downright offensive. I told the manager so, too. I also, with the utmost respect, told him that I could not, in all good conscience, sign that document. I was offended by the threatening tone of the last paragraph and simply could not legitimize it by signing. Now, he just shrugged and countersigned that I refused to sign and why.

My peril comes from his boss: a man-hating virago whose greatest joy in life is hurting people with her power. She has fired people for looking at her wrong (oh, she has other "reasons," of course). So, she's the one I must now deal with. Guess I'll see in a day or twa, huh?

It's not so bad if I do get fired. For one thing, I was looking for a job when I found that one. For another, I'll simply sit back and collect unemployment. And for yet another, my very first stop afterwards will be to the ACLU.

Ain't life frickin' grand?

The Auld Scot

Thanks and a thought

First, thank you to all of you for your encouraging comments. I deeply appreciate them.

A most painful thing happened to me today: I had a thought. Oh, I know, you might be thinking, "Oh, it's probably just gas," but I've had gas before and I'm fairly certain this was a thought. One thing I know is that it hurt like hel.

Y'see, I read a followup story in today's paper about Paul Mirecki, a Religious Studies professor at the University of Kansas. Dr. Mirecki had developed a course for the school for the coming semester titled "“Special Topics in Religion: Intelligent Design, Creationism and Other Religious Mythologies.” Well, this course drew the ire of members of Kansas' Religious Reich, who objected to Dr. Mirecki's use of the word "mythologies" to describe a course that would describe its sacred cow, Intelligent Design. Seems that's just trompling on sacred ground there, and must not be allowed.

Oh, yeah, Dr. Mirecki also wrote a few emails -- private emails, at that -- to a web-based discussion board for stuent atheists and other free-thinkers, KU Society of Open-Minded Atheists and Agnostics. Some Reich members saw the emails and went berserk.

Now, Dr Mirecki isn't just your run-of-the-mill koledge teechr. Nope, he's a bona-fide Doctor of Theology and a Harvard graduate. And he's not just any old RS teacher. He's the head of KU's Religious Studies Department, and has been teaching at KU since 1989.

As I said, he pissed off the Religious Reich with the course's title in the first place, and his emailed -- and private -- opinions about Intelligent Design, the latest nonsense foisted on the folk of Kansas by the Christian fundies. They, of course, raised a ruckus that resulted in Dr. Mirecki's apologizing and removing the M word from his course's title.

That not being enough to salve the wounded egos of Reich members, he then pulled the course entirely, no doubt frustrating and disappointing the 25 or so students who had already signed up for the course.

Well, that still wasn't good enough. In the true spirit of the Burning Times, the good folk of the Religious Reich are now demanding that every course offered by the university -- that's right, the entire curriculum -- be investigated so as to root out anything of which they don't approve.

Ya know, I thought the First Amendment was universal, that it applies to all points of view and not just those of which we agree. I mean, the meanest, most bigoted redneck has every bit as much right to voice his opinions as the rest of us, regardless of how repugnant, stupid, evil, or just plain absurd others of us may think. Yes, the rest of us have the right to refute said redneck's ideas, but not -- NEVER -- to prevent him from spouting his vitriole.

I guess I was wrong. It seems the Amendment really means we all have a right to speak our opinions so long as some particular group approves of that opinion. It's not just the religious fundies who seem to think this way either. Just look at our beloved preznit, ol' Dubya his own self -- if you say anything to disagree with him, why you, sir, simply aren't a "real Amurican." Y'see, that's what the Christian fundies and their cohorts really want -- to censor the rest of us and ensure we think just like they. Oh, they'll yammer about only wanting to save our immortal souls and just spread their god's word, but their base agenda is total control, just like their brethren in the Middle East. My soul, at least, doesn't need saving; it's in no trouble at all, thank you very much, and I just don't believe in their god -- I'm perfectly content with my own.

I lost a lot of close friends and brothers in the Vietnamese jungles and I can assure you not a one of them fought and died so these fruitcakes could destroy the most fundamental Amendment to our Constitution. Not a one, and I doubt that any of the over 43,000 young people who died there did either.

Well, folks, that's my rant for today. If the fundies have their way, this will also be my last. My next address will no doubt be Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, or some nameless prison in eastern Europe.

Protect the First!

Welcome to the Lair

Okay, let's get started with the usual disclaimer: I'm a total newbie at blogs and am learning as I go. Got it? Hey, we all have to be newbies at one time or another, right?

So, why am I now a blogger? Partly at the request of a love of mine, and partly because I have a deep belief in the First Amendent. It seems that our current federal administration and their religious fundamentalist buddies are doing all they can to do away with this most important of our constitutional rights. I want a place where the First lives ... always. Hence, my blog.

So. There it is. Just another Hippie radical trying to restore power to the people. I hope you enjoy this, but please be civil. That is, you are free to say what you will, but please avoid slander, personal attacks, and other devices that only serve to stifle free and open debate. Attack the idea, not the speaker.