Thursday, October 19, 2017

Darkness, Sharia Health Care System, and Politics

I woke up to the darkness and prayed.  It was early morning.  I prayed some more.  Morning prayers stop the deluge of demands waiting at the door to terrify me.  I’ve a routine.  I get up. I put on the coffee. I learned from that patient.  Asking him to describe his day, he said.
“I look at the window and if there are no bars, I make my own coffee.”
The bars I live with are all internalized.  I’m old and I’ve been obeying all the laws and doing as I was told and feeling like it’s never enough.  The Prime Minister insults me personally. A wasted pumped up amateur wannabe embarrassment he still criticizes me and calls others like me wealthy and entitled. There is talk these days of ‘priviledge’ yet all I hear are critics and when the real heavy lifting is called for all these snow flakes vanish.
I’m tired too. It’s been a long hard week, going to work and dealing with Gilbert’s surgery. I’m thankful he’s recovered. His nights of whimpering and my sleepless nights took their toll.
But the old soldier told me of his nightmare at D Day.  “We’d been trained.  There was nothing to prepare us for the beaches.  Friends beside you having their heads blown right off.  Noise. Bombs. Blinding flashes.  Bullets.  Running forward over dead bodies.  Diving into the blood and sand. The only thing that saved me was the drill. We’d been taught over and over again.  Load, aim, fire,  advance, load, aim fire,  what the sergeant had said.  They’d survived and they told us what to do from experience.  We practiced over and over.  It was all that got me through that day. Doing the drill.”
So when I wake up I have my own kind of drill.  I make coffee. I feed the animals.  George was actually out playing with Gilbert, bumped him with his head.  They’re cute that way. Gilbert took it in a good natured way, wagging his tail. He’s still wearing his cone after surgery. He enjoyed the Little Cesar I gave him and even went onto eat some dried food.
I got out an egg I’d boiled yesterday, a banana and a couple of pieces of Babybel Cheese. As soon as I began to remove the cellophane wrapper Gilbert’s head shot up.  Despite blindness he found his way immediately to my side. It’s his favourite cheese.  That’s why I got it. We have shared some each day after his surgery.  He ate venison and steak and liver pate as well. I worried so much about him this time.  He was slow to recover, compared to the removal of his first eye.  Slow to start drinking water and peeing and a day late pooping. He’s back on track. At the office he gets up to greet his friends, the dog lovers or Gilbert lovers, in my practice. He is wagging his tail and sitting to be petted. I’m relaxing.
Now I’ll get in the shower and dress. More of the morning ‘getting to work drill’.  I’ve a ritual. Everything is orderly so I don’t have to reinvent the wheel each day searching for things like keys and wallets. I’m having to look for pants. I put a couple of pairs of jeans in the laundry and have been wearing black dress pants which look a lot like the black sweats.  It’s the only snag in the flow of dressing this week.
I sometimes go over the drill in my mind trying not to forget something. Earlier this week, it was a pen. I left without a pen and that obsessive compulsive part of me was mildly annoyed all day using a plastic throwaway I got from the clinic.
Other doctors have been away and sick so I’ve been holding the fort alone. It gives me comfort to be of assistance knowing I’m contributing.I serve my patients and working now in these other clinics am glad to help and pull my weight as it’s reciprocal. When I’m not there someone covers for me.  There are no extra doctors. If a doctor is absent the others have to carry his load. My emergency room doctor friend has been alone in a department where there were supposed to be 5 doctors.
Canada may have the most corrupt and incompetent government management of health care in western civilization.  Whenever there has been a problem the solution of the Communist mentality administration is more administration. The result is that we have the most administration in the western world and least doctors,  highest costs and least doctors.  I’ve worked in the private and public sector and the private sector is better less grossly incompetent. There’s countless committee meetings in the public sectors and everyone avoids seeing patients.  It’s become increasingly worse over the years.
Then I read in an article that Dr. Bill McEwan is now head of St. Paul’s Psychiatry.  I don’t know how long that’s been but I worked with Bill years ago and he was one of those really bright lights and incredibly fine clinicians.  Seeing him in this position gives such hope. It’s like having Dr. Hurwitz as head of Neuropsychiatry at UBC. The man’s a regular genius yet I don’t know how they manage in the beurocracy. It’s not so bad as it was when I was there and the head was whipping naked women in his office and the drugs and alcohol were flowing freely.  I loved that Dr. Soma Ganesin, the brilliant cultural psychiatrist got a chair of cross cultural psychiatry. Dr. Howard is another of my favourites.  Of course Dr. Bob Stowe, the behavioural neurologist working in psychiatry is my personal pick for the highest award for research and clinical medicine.  Truly extraordinary clinician but also an amazingly clear thinking academic and researcher.  I keep hearing of people I admired most retiring, Dr. Solomon, Dr. Marriage.  That's a downside of aging.
I’m too quick to disparage institutions.  These people who are truly amazing clinicians and great souls work there.  I’m far too jaded by my contact with the drunken drug abusing psychiatrists who were fucking students and patients and being protected by the College of Physicians and Surgeons. The college is always complicit in the corruptions and scandals of health care but they always have some beurocratic means of avoiding accountability.  Sins of omission is what hell is paved with to my mind. That’s why I’ve so enjoyed reading the Nuremberg Trials and Arendt’s accounts of the Banality of Evil.  Beurocrats. It’s not Hitler that was the problem but rather those who did nothing. The same occurs today with Justin Trudeau and his Islamaphobia attack on freedom of speech, his attack on business and general financial destruction of the economy turning a once great country into a communist shell which like all communist countries will sell off it’s assets and tax the populace until someone puts a stop to the high living elites.  My friends call me a ‘wage nigger’.  Those are the bars I see. So far they're just internalized but I wonder when they're manifest on the outside.  I doubt someone else can make coffee as good as the coffee  I make myself.
I just want to serve God and do medicine.  But there’s such a political micro management and control over every aspect of health care I really feel like that Submarine Captain in the Tom Clancy novel where there was an ignorant political leader standing at the shoulder of the captain questioning his every decision. Every decision had to  first and foremost serve the administration, the party. The administration always says they’re there for the people, just like Justin Trudeau who claims his flamboyant lifestyle and wastrel waste of mone.y is for the sake of the citizen.  There degree is CYA, cover your ass and DLW, do least work.  Divide and conquer and scapegoat.
I worry though I’m  just disgruntled.  I don't like winter here. The darkness and rain.  I miss the bright pristine prairies.  I’ve lost my brother, my best friend and another friend, and am seeing everyone my age dying around me.  My dog’s having his eyes out was a hit. Then another false accusation of subjective emotional lying scheming attack.  Before that a year of death threats against my dog and my own life and the ‘authorities’ , the ‘government administration’ , the’police’ doing nothing yet if someone says a doctor ‘upset’ them the whole weight of the authorities comes down on them at the tune of thousands of dollars of punishment for stepping out of line.
They call it the Civil Sevrive. People forget that this is a Military Organization.  Like Military service,  the Civil Service first serves the Crown.  Justin Trudeau isn’t working for Canadians. He actually says Canada is not a nation. He’s a ‘transnational’ and he works for Brussels and Beijing and Mecca but not for me and not for other western Canadians.
Our provincial government and the police and ‘Civil Service” serve a horribly corrupt system where our principle agricultural product here has been Marijuana with low estimates of 8 to 10 billion dollars a year in crops. Couple with that is a 50 billion Heroin and other drugs coming through our city.  Annually .001% deterrent ‘catch’ is made by the millions of dollars of police resources who are completely restricted by the senior beurocracy and courts. Yet in other countries where they really do fight crime we always find that there are senior judges and senior administrative staff involved in the multi billion dollar crime rackets.  So our local BC Goverrnment, now NDP, would have us believe that the Civil Service and our Courts and themselves are totally untouched by this billions of dollars of money flowing like a raging stream through our city making working folk unable to find housing because of all the criminal investment in real estate here. They caught one police man selling drug from his car.
In the US drug trafficking was finally addressed when all the assets of the dealers were taken yet here in Canada a Surrey marijuana grower is in court arguing that just because his one house was a grow operation all his other houses should be protected from the court.
I see that the laws and attack on legal gun owners and hunters are unbearable, an outrageous persecution and tax grab after the Liberal 2 billion dollar make work gun registry program from Liberal ex security forces and hangers on, totally unnaccountable money in typical corrupt Liberal fashion.  Yet when you actually look at the consequences for criminals with guns and the ready availability of pardons and all the ‘treats’ for criminals and legal protections for gun wielding terrorists, it’s thoroughly disheartening.
I’m soul dead thinking that Justin Trudeau gave $10 million dollars of my hard earned , so very hard earned, so very very hard earned, at such high cost and risk, money, to a terrorist who made bombs that killed Canadian soldiers and himself killed an American soldier. And I’m fined for jay walking and expected daily to be perfect. Really all of us as doctors are told we must be perfect all the time or we’ll lose our licenses. We’re constantly fighting the government these days. Studies consistently show that the greatest stress and disappointment for doctors is the constant attack , constantly being stabbed in the back, by the government, this CIVIL SERVICE, military authoritarian construct, with all manner of power and not at all democratic or even thinking for the benefit of all, but wholly self serving and self interested in the administrative goals, which are evidenced in Justin Trudeau consummate political ‘scab voter’ immigration programs, with all the shallow false emotional lies.
It’s the lies.  I hate paying taxes now to see the money go to terrorists or to pay drug dealers and their friends in high places.
The Former Mayor and Chief of Police are positioning to make a fortune off legalization of marijuana. The real Liberal Progressive businessman must already be lobbying to legalize pedophilia so that Vancouver could be the first city to have a child prostitution centre. Perhaps they could combine liquor sales, pot sales, free heroin, and gambling to get more criminals to buy real estate here and get the free health care that comes with not having or paying doctors. . One stop vice shopping brought to you for your vote by the Liberals and other left wing aetheists who will do anything for their god, Mammon.
I wonder though if I’m just tired and depressed. I can’t seem to shake the faces of young patients I’ve known who have died in this Fentanyl epidemic. I should be thankful really. It’s been at least a couple of weeks since the last death.
I worry I might just be sour and because I’m sour I see the city with no housing for the workers, the criminal upper classes, the government corruption and the drug addicted Trudeau family and this news NDP government no better despite the promises and lies ; all this I see may simply reflect my unwillingness to look on the good.
I’ve lacked gratitude. They all may just be doing their job. Like the guy who brought the gas to Nuremberg. “I just needed a job for my family so this job hauling gas to Auschwitz is a good job”.  “I don’t think about what they’re using the gas for.”
No wonder government jobs are always the highest paid. The amount of guilt and shame that go with them especially in health care where they can’t even get or keep doctors and the doctors who they have are afraid to see patients especially women who are untouchable, the new sharia medicine rules in place, so that it’s just too cumbersome to examine women for fear touching them, might lead to a complaint and any complaint costs a doctor personally $5 to $10, 000 dollars and much more if he’s a critic of the system and not one of the chosen insiders sharing complicity with the flavour of the month royal court ‘politically correct beurocratic dictatorship and  enslavement.
See I lean to the negative. Life is roses on one side and shit on the other and the shit is the manure for the roses. God is Good. God is good all the time. This too will pass.
Thank you Jesus for the rain that stopped the fires and washes away the dirt in the streets. Thanks for the chill of fall that kills the fleas in the grass. Thanks for Gilbert getting better another day and George our rescue cat having a home. Thank you for my health and ability to serve and be of use to my fellows not only working but as part of a team pulling my weight.
Help me to focus on men like Dr. McEwan and Dr. Ganesan and Dr. Stowe and Dr. Howard and Dr. Hurwitz and see that the finest of clinicians work well despite this system.  Even Dr. Lou the great addiction psychiatrist  tolerates the administration somehow.   So why does it bother me so much.
It’s not the outside issue as much as my perception. I’m fearful of the sharia communist destruction of Canada by Trudeau and the Globalist Agenda 21 destruction of democracy and celebration of Civil Service Dictatatorship. The UN Agenda 21 actually called for Canadian Civil Service to be traitors to parliament and mutiny. Yet so far it’s only in the US that they’ve outlawed Agenda 21 state after state. In Canada the Beurocacrats and Courts in general, in general all appointed left over colonial constructs,  have become an elite, no longer responsive to the elected parliament.
Trudeau gives millions to foreign Muslim countries with no mandate as such for this.  Then he ignores the Christians who are persecuted around the world to bring jhadists Muslims unvetted into the country to introduce the terrorism which is devastating my loved London.
Thank you God for your blessings. May I see the glass half full. There are so many blessings. Let me watch the rise of men like Andrews Scheer and women like Kelly Leitch and know that this is hope of spring. It’s always before winter that I cringe and worry. Maybe this year won’t be so bad. Maybe there won’t be so many suicides in Jan and February and I won’t be without any mental health resources to offer people,  crying in despair in the middle of the great darkness.  All I can do is watch because it’s against the law for even doctors to touch patients today as it may be miscronstrued. Sharia medicine reigns supreme in Canada.  The government has made all doctors the enemy. It’s the old divide and conquer.  Sharia communisms comes like a Mile, "wrecking ball'.  Sexy.
Of course the fallacy of the courts and the judges who should be educated as such is the ‘ends against the middle’ .  The Trudeau court influence continues to shape Canada against the will of the majority of Canadians despite the fact that Justin Trudeau as never before is totally on the wrong side of history.
Drop these obsessions. You slept, I say to myself.  Do the drill. Get out of your head. Stop with the self pity. Focus on the positive. See things will get better. This too will pass. All shall be well. All shall be well.  Just 2 more days to the weekend.
Thank you Jesus for the hope your story brings. It’s says that in the end we win.  I am so very thankful for all your blessings and really all the great men and women I’ve been blessed to know and have as teachers. Thank you. I pray too for friends in Nepal. I pray for my family and friends and patients.
Thank you God. Help me to have clarity of vision and see that you are the potter. I am just the clay. I must just do the drill. Get to work. Go through the gauntlet of the worst administrated highway in history and accept that with 50 000 other commuters that the Civil Service, because its got its own agenda can’t get the traffick to flow despite all the evidence in the world that good administrations can make the trains run on time,  Ehen I lived in the US I saw better management of freeways with a hundred times the traffic.

But see you’re the one that’s off. CBT. Look on the bright side. Stop being so negative. Get to work and help someone else. You’re a royal pain, I said to myself angry that I let the internet fill my brain with the selective media narratives of the day. Who cares what socks Justin Trudeau is wearing.  Be thankful he can at least dress himself.   The world doesn’t need more critics or administrators. You’re a front line worker. Get in there. Do the drill.  Hit the beach.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Despair, Blindness and Recuperation

Gilbert, my cockapoo dog, had hereditary glaucoma.  It presented with a red eye and pain which Dr. Douglas at Oak Animal Hospital correctly diagnosed. He lost his sight immediately in that first eye because the high pressure in the orb destroyed the sensitive optic nerve.    Dr. King of Western Canada Veterinary Eye Specialists eventually surgically removed that eye when the pressure didn’t come down with months of medication therapy.  The increased pressure in the eye was like a constant migraine for Gilbert. He slept a lot and was sad. When the eye was removed he was his old happy go lucky perky self returned.  We had the joy of this for the next few months until one day a couple of weeks back his remaining eye became red and painful.  Dr. King measured the pressure the next day. It was really high and didn’t come down with a week of therapy. He was completely blind now so we scheduled surgery which occurred last Thursday.
He was really sad. I had dropped him off in the morning at the New Westminister Western Canada Eye Specialist Surgery.  No food the night before.  Blind now , he banged into the door entering. There were several other dogs there.  Eye problems are common in dogs and especially in some breeds like pugs and cocker spaniels.  My favourite Scottish band is “Old Blind Dog” which I’d never realized highlights the problem of loss of sight in aging dogs.  I left my afternoon clinic to pick him up and bring him back. He was a bit disoriented and was able to sleep through my session with Brad. Brad and Gilbert have been friends for years so it was great that he just happened to be the patient I had to see that day. The staff at the Royal Columbia Clinic were so understanding too with Belinda and Dr. Waterson making all the right cooing caring animal love noises that made Gilbert feel safe. He was obviously scared and vulnerable.
Taking him home I saw him hesitant and anxious and confused.  He didn’t like being out in the open.  In my Miata and finally at home he was better. He hates the cone though it’s necessary to keep him from scratching out the stitches.  As the anesthesia wore off he wimpered and cried and my heart was torn out. I tried everything to get him to take the 25 mg tramadol pain kller. He’d had to have a half tab twice a day the few days before the surgery.  But he was getting wise to my evil machinations to drug him. He rejected his favourite cheese, peanut butter, and even left over steak. He’d take the food and spit out the pill.  Apparently the taste is horrid.  It was a breeze to get him to take the 250 mg Cephelexin antibiotic tablet. That’s twice a day.  I just gave him one today. To get the tramadol into him finally I found the deer heart I had frozen, microwaved it rare and slipped the pill in the red meat. He wouldn’t take any more of that dog delicacy after that but I got another in the Liver Pate Sausage which has worked since for the Cephalexin.
He cried and whimpered the first night. I’d hold him, stroke him, and he’d settle for a few minutes, then I’ d doze and wake again to his crying. I remembered my mother sitting up with me as a child when I had stomach aches.  I missed her.  I was crying in the night with Gilbert crying.  Talking to God of course. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed since my brother died, then my friend, George, and Richard and then Bill in ICU and Gilbert.  All along the government has accepted the lying false allegation of a female psychotic sociopath.  I’ve only justgot through  a year of another threatening to kill me and my dog and the College of Physicians and Surgeons with their ‘the customer is always right’ approach to complaints blaming me for upsetting the patient.  Only when he threatened to kill Justin Trudeau did the government  take me seriously about this man’s dangerousness. Most people think doctors are protected but we simply are not. The suicides of doctors and the attacks on doctors go unheard. I’m there in the middle of the night holding my crying dog fending off my own self pity and praying.  Not why Jesus?  That’s a child’s question.  But how do we carry on, Jesus?  Help me get through this. Help Gilbert please Lord.
The Jesus story tells of the Herod’s and Pilots of Government with all the cowardly beurocrats made famous at the Nuremberg trials by Arendt’s description of the ‘banality of evil’.  Our courts encourage ‘false allegations’. It’s the hallmark of aetheist leftist communist beurocracy and government.  But my dog is to me like Samson, betrayed by a woman, and his eyes torn out, blind and chained in the temple of the false god enemy.  I think of the poor guy as a part of me.  I feel I’ve attracted evil by fighting it. My last dog was murdered by drug addicts and drug dealers because I wouldn’t lie about their positive urine tests and say they were negative and that they weren’t marijuana smokers. I was working in the US at the time and government jobs required a clean urine test.  So they threatened to kill our dogs, the South African doctor and me, and then both dogs were killed.  The DEA told me my life was threatened.  I’d done the right thing but it’s always at high personal cost. I’m so upset these days seeing Justin Trudeau our lying prime minister pot head getting rich as a dope smoker and all the others who have invested in vice these days. The latest pervert was Harvey Weinstein, the love of feminists.  It’s all so troubling in the wee hours of the night unable to get a dog to take another tramadol, unable to stop my baby from fussing.
At least I didn’t think of killing him.  I have treated so many mothers who after nights of sick babies have thought that.I’ve never judged.  Gilbert’s been my reason for living.  With all the government hatred of doctors and me in particular I’ve felt this overwhelming urge at times to ‘identify with the aggressor’.  Anything to end the suffering and humiliation.  I have done my best devoted myself to doing what is right and yet I’m never perfect enough. I loved reading the American Specialist College report saying that Government and Insurance Companies demand 90 minutes of activities for every 15 minutes of patient visit before the patient has even stated their complaint. And I’ve chosen, as a Christian , as ugly as Christians are considered today,  to work in the area of ‘greatest need’ with the ‘sickest people’  where the patients and doctors are stigmatized together and the government creates most of the problems for both.  Everywhere I look there are strutting Eva Brawns finding fault and being critics and demanding more and more limelight , resources and money while in the front lines there’s never another pair of hands.
And here I am facing another night without sleep, after thousands of nights not sleeping for patients and strangers, and I’m unable to help my dog any more than I was able to help my brother and my friends.  I really wasn’t a very good son either because my Father and Mother deserved so much better. I was such a sucker for the shallow when I was young. I thought Pierre Trudeau was so smart and sexy until I was much older and realized how right my parents had been about what a terrible wasteful bully of Prime Minister he’d been. We used to argue over the dinner table. Dad and Mom didn’t like the drinking and drugging either.  I realize now they wondered where they’d gone wrong. Mom was Irish and blamed herself for all the wrongs and sickness of her children but never took credit for their success.  I think that if I was a better Christian or a deeper Yogi I could have healed my dog’s sight. I trusted the Vets and wonder if I’d stopped my work and devoted myself to only him maybe I could have found a cure. I felt that with my brother too that I should focus solely on his illness. Yet I’d told my ex wife I could treat her and her depression and addiction alone or I could go to work with hundreds of others but I couldn’t do both. She wanted all of me and was always angry that I wouldn’t bring her more drugs, that she had to go out and get her own and that we tried to interfere with her addiction.  I find treating addiction the greatest challenge of my career. Everyone hates you. The patients, the families, and the government but there’s the drug pushers and candy men like Trudeau and everyone loves them. I was a bar tender and I was so loved by my customers back then.  I hold my dog and calm him in the night crying and thinking about Jesus.  Jesus suffers with us. On the cross with the liars and the thieves.  I’m not alone with my dog.
We come through the night and I go to work and don’t make a mistake. The College of Physicians and Surgeons and the Lawyers and the Premier and the Prime Minister and the patients demand absolute perfection from the doctor. One mistake and I’m punished for years.  I must smile always too.  I’m judged most on customer service. It’s better to cut off the wrong leg than God forbid ‘emotionally abuse’ someone.  I stopped a doctor and nurse killing patients and have never been forgiven. They were important people.  It’s okay to police nobodies. I’m a scapegoat and a jay walker whose crimes allow countless beurocratic police to avoid bothering the Hitlers and Stalin’s, the Kim Jong Un’s of the world. Hillary Clinton got away with Benghazi, there’s Hanoi Jane, and yet we all know that some woman claimed to remember that Trump groped her 40 years before.
I left Gilbert at home feeling guilty and alone.  I’m thankful Laura, his other love was coming over later.  When I got back I took him for another walk. He balks at everything. It’s terrible to see.  I remember my Dad going blind and my mother going deaf.  Losses sap the confidence.  I just got hearing aids and a few years back after a year of sinusitis lost a lot of my sense of smell.  The tuberculosis medication I took after getting TB working on the northern Canada Indian reserves might have contributed. A year of dangerous antibiotic treatment and they still say I don’t care. I’ll never be as good enough and perfect as a beurocrat or Prime Minister.  So many people are above the law but we’re all caught in God’s law.  Life and death and for a few of us taxes.  There’s all those Liberals with off shore accounts and French Canadian corporations with government bail outs and the good honest criminals like Mafia and Tong.    I was just thankful I didn’t get AIDS when I was treating the AIDs dementia patients getting spit on by them.  I preferred the fellows threatening me with guns and knives wanting drugs.  I ‘m terrified of the unseen like death.  I’m so depressed and crying, walking my dog feeling his fear and not being able to do anything for him. He startles at the slightest sounds.  I’m ridiculous as a man. Only women can show their feelings in Canada. They lied and told me it would be good if we were vulnerable but that just let the lizards get ahead while we pointed to the vulnerable bits where they hit us again and again.
i pray the St. Patrick’s Breastplate prayer for us, Christ above, Christ below, Christ beside, Christ in front, Christ Behind, - I beg for protection for us both. I pray he gets well. I don’t know what I will do with another love gone. I remember that Peter and Gordon song, “I don’t want to live in a world without love.” My ex wives hated me for leaving them.  Ironically the one who left me remains friendly.  But the following ones ended in loveless addicted rages dominated by angry insane drunken mother’s in laws.  I think of karma and blame and keep coming back to how if I’d been a better person and followed the rules and turned a blind eye to the killing by my superiors and shut the fuck up and not fought city hall and maybe just agreed and been pleasant with everyone and done as I was told , maybe my dog wouldn’t be blind. I used to think it was because I drank and smoked dope too much one year, a year sailing, a year after decades of service and duty and dealing with disease and death, a year I thought I’d have a break but there’s no break.  Justin Trudeau’s today offering me marijuana and euthanasia.  He’s on the wrong side of history. The youth today want fentanyl.  Trudeaus still the gateway to the abyss.
His father made having babies too expensive and everyone got abortions instead. Mortgentaller the greatest butcher of Canada got the Order of Canada for killing Catholic and Christian babies.  Pierre Trudeau ruined the Canadian economy and made it such that only the rich and immigrants and those single mothers in the government harem had children. Others were forced to work when they’d have gladly had children and lived a life like Sophie, Justin Trudeau’s wife with her palace life and nannies and her feminist husband.  I’m old today and I am offered marijuana and euthanasia. They’re even denying the old and dying opiates unless they want to go to the free heroin injection sites. It’s a theatre of the absurd.  Waiting for Godot.
I am so happy when my dog pees.  The fear post surgery is dehydration. It’s so hard to get him to drink.. I was worried he might need an IV.  I had to drag him to keep him moving. He put his butt down and wanted to die and saw me as so unkind.   I was so horrible so unhappy dragging the little guy.  Meanwhile there’s a whole lot of people phoning the SPCA to report my Cruelty to Animals. They don’t really care about him.  They weren’t up all night when he had his other eye removed  or this last night. They’re just seeing this big ugly old white guy dragging a little dog with a cone on his head and it’s so terrible that horrid man doing that to that little dog.  But he’s moving. He’d rather lie down in a corner and die. I want to lie down in a corner and die. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to turn on the news. I want to sail away into a hurricane and spend another month at sea alone fighting cold and high winds and leaks and navigating against currents and winds and living.  This is Chinese Water Torture.  More and more taxes and everything costs more and more and everyone hates and scorns and complains and there’s never enough because all the money goes to Media and Senators and Sports and War. The Security Council of the UN is simply the principle arms dealers of the world. We’re living in the perpetual war that Marx wanted.  We’re never going to see a worker’s paradise. Arjuna and Krishna knew this.  There will always be war and Canada is an arms dealer protected by the greatest country in history, the American Empire.  And everyone lives a lie.
My dog wants to curl up and die and I want to curl up and die and realize how much I depended on his daily joy because now I can hardly carry on.  I know parents don’t suicide like single people. I know that families that stay together are the most successful.  I know that if I’d been a better husband my marriage might have lasted. I I know all the mental health statitistics. I go to church and meetings and pray and meditate but nothing I do prepares me for my dog inconsolably  crying in wee hours of the night.
Laura arrives and we’ve come through the storm.  He’s in despair the rest of day but obviously is better lying on the couch between us.  At night she’s up half the night and I’m up half the night.  But the tide is turning. He had a poop at night. Such a good sign.  I want to dance and shout hallelujah. I was dragging him about  3 am because he was crying so loud.  But he peed some more. When he returned he drank more water.  In the morning he perked up when another dog went by on . He’s trusting me and doesn’t need to be dragged but prances high stepping behind me.
It was a long day.  I barbecued steaks and he ate a whole one himself cut in bits and hand fed Laura and me.   I’m afraid of the future. More dying to come.  He may be through this storm but how long can we live. I’m in ‘acceptance’.  I’m in ‘surrender’.  I’m praying and just figuring everyone is doing their best. If the government folk could do what Einstein did they’d not be playing police for the the UN warlords.  I like George Carlin saying ‘they own us’. All the talk of slavery and it not about now. Richard says, “It’s like I’m here in today struggling to get ahead and get by and everyone I meet is saying that I’m supposed to give them stuff for free because of something that happened before they were even alive’.  I can’t blame them for wanting it or taking it.   I just don’t ever see them giving up anything to those beneath them in these ‘generational’ arguments.  It’s all about who sets the ‘terms of reference’.
I’m not that good a manager. My father had a hundred and fifty men working under him and I don’t feel I”m very good at taking care of my dog.  Everyone claims they’re just following the rules. Dad was different. He was a real leader, respected and admired. Not many like that these days.  Mostly the leaders lead from behind.  We laughed because Dad was never in his suit but always in work clothes down with the men getting dirty and taking risks.  Todays’ leaders shoot you in the back, throw you under the bus.  They’re effete school boys who come with a brand name.  They disparage the old. I worry about us getting older.
Everyone has been so supportive with Gilbert.  Friends have come by and asked how we’re doing. I’m always stiff upper lip.  I liked that Dave and Emory his dog , Gilbert’s friend, showed concern. He understands. Most do.  We’re all , everyone I know at least, working stiffs, middle class or lower, getting by, being abused and disparaged by the elites and caring for family while doing more and more work for less and less.  There’s no room for sick dogs , sick children, sick old people. All they get is marijuana and euthanasia.
I liked reading a book, My Dog Is Blind, by Nicole Horsky.  A book anyone could read. Not too heavy on information but useful and reassuring . I liked that she said only one person asked why I didn’t put the dog down. Everyone else was supportive. No one has asked or suggested I put Gilbert down. I thought of it.  We’re living in a throw away consumer society.  The government is savaging the old.  Pensions after years of work are less than refugee’s scab voter pay.  Only the rich get medical care they need because the middle class and poor get waitlists instead.  I liked my patient who said how sorry he was to hear Gilbert was okay after surgery. He’d said how if he had a dog being so poor he’d not have been able to afford that and the dog would have had to be put down.  I’ve always worked and learned young to save and even in siege and war have tried to put some aside for rainy days, and now see the government stealing even that like the English stole the potatoes of the Irish and Scots.  I am thankful I could pay for the surgery.  I would have had a child but the woman aborted my baby. I would have adopted but I didn’t want the government living in my home.  The women I knew had lost their children to political correctness. As many children the kiddy police have saved the abuse of parents and families here is as great.  I  worked in the area and saw the utter disdain and abuse of children of the vulnerable by the courts, not because the children were at risk but because the parents were different and not politically correct . Even having a dog is frightening in Canada with everyone watching everyone and everyone having an opinion. In communist countries it’s always like living in an old Invasion of the Body Snatchers movie and these busy body government agent politically correct folk coming out without any risk to themselves to report and judge their neighbors.  They can smash your windows if a dog is inside panting. I can’t be a man in this country without being condemned and now I’m an old white man long past his due date with an old blind dog.
But he’s better today. He slept through the night. He’s peed today. No poop yet but he took the antibiotic in the liver worst.  Laura has been here and she’s been reassuring.
I know it’s a storm. I’ve been in hurricanes and survived typhoons.  It’s weird watching trees fly over your head.  This too will pass. I’m crazy enough when I’m nearly dying, when people have been shooting at my house, and gangs have been facing me with chains and knives.  I escaped from a group of Muslim men who robbed me and were screaming ‘Kill the Infidel”.  I escaped from a drunk Indian shooting at me screaming ‘Kill the Whitey’.  The acute stuff is easy. The slow chronic stuff like blindness and pain and life are harder. I’m older and it’s harder to deny death. One of the greatest books of all time was  the psychiatrist, Ernest Becker’s “Denial of Death”.
This is just normal life. Gilbert’s better.  This too will pass.  The cone comes off in 8 days.   I'm grateful for the life that Gilbert and I have shared. I'm grateful for the excellent surgery. I'm thankful for Laura, George and friends.
Intergalactic Space Aliens will finally arrive. They're all look like unicorns and leprechauns.  God is good.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Nakusp to Vancouver Return Road Trip,Thanksgiving Weekend

Laura and I were sad to leave Bear Ridge Cabins in Nakusp. We’d so enjoyed our stay.  My cockapoo, Gilbert had surgery planned for Thursday morning so we decided to give two days to the trip home just in case of any unforeseen developments.  I loaded the truck while Laura cleaned out the refrigerator and checked the cabins one last time. Little blind Gilbert was not leaving from beside the truck always afraid he’ll be left. But 8 am we were all in the front seat and heading out towards Nelson and Castlegar.  We passed through Nakusp one last time liking the little town and hoping for more returns with more time.
The highway #6 south along Lower Arrow Lake was picturesque with fall colours. We liked the little town of New Denver on lovely Slocan Lake remembering it from previous visits.  The highways were not very busy at all. It was overcast with some sunshine and blue sky breaking through.  Generally a great drive. I was relieved when we reached highway #3a and weren’t at risk of taking the wrong turn away to Nelson.  Laura liked the town name, “Thrums”.
Castlegar was a classic old fashioned Canadian town built up along each side of the main street with newer malls added. I knew a trucker who got his license there and liked the town folk a lot. It had that homey feel.  I actually saw some wild turkeys  in the town. The Columbia River running through town was magnificent.  For me this was a real river with depth and breadth whereas a lot of the rivers we see are shallow fast and more like creeks than what I think of as rivers.
I wanted an elk tag for hunting but they were sold out at Canadian Tire but we got a Macdonalds breakfast to go and headed on.  I loved the countryside beyond Castlegar, rolling hills, logging roads off the highway. We took one in hope of finding a  grouse but came to snow covered roads and decided against going further with the truck.  The Honda Pioneer 500 would have done well but I wasn’t that invested in a long hunt to unload the machine. More exploration orientation. Certainly a place to return to for hunting and camping.
I passed the turn off to the skiing town of Rossland and the town of Trail where I’d worked at the hospital so enjoying the doctors and patients but finding the administration so unappealing.
The vistas along the highway, pines and spruce, open green fields, reds and golds and oranges of autumn,  were all a visual delight.  Syringa Provincial Park was so inviting. I fantasized of returning for future RV trips to this beautiful countryside.
Grand Forks was our favourite find. What a splendid town. Laura and I thought we’d move here in a second it was so inviting with everything a country person could want.  I am definitely coming back. We’d loved Kelowna for it’s city charm but Grand Forks had everything of country elegance and character a body could desire. The Kettle River is a great little river and the fields and forest about were a mixed bag of possibilities for hiking and hunting. Everyone we met was pleasant and there were some fine old houses that hearkened back to another earlier very prosperous time.  Lots of building going on now suggested it was into another upswing of prosperity.
The Crowsnest Highway #3 took us on through pretty little Greenwood to Midway where to our surprise there was a border crossing and custom station. Beyond that was Osooyoos with all its development, summer vacation spots, speed boats and flourishing wineries.  We stopped at MacDonads for burgers and Gilbert was delighted as always with their paddies.
 We passed again through Keremeos.  We stocked up on fruit and apple juice at Guppal’s Produce (Paul and Sarbjit -  The peaches melted in my mouth. Laura loved the apple juice. The Ambrosia apples were ambrosia.  With out venison to share from this hunting trip I bought a huge bag of apples to bring home, not returning empty handed.  Gilbert slept and cuddled on the seat beside us.
Near Princeton at 5 pm I took a logging road in the backwoods.  A grouse stood on the side of road waiting patiently while I turned off the new truck, this time making sure it didn’t alarm,  loaded the 20 gauge and stepped outside to take one shot. This was all mostly for blind Gilbert’s benefit. Once I’d fired and the grouse had flopped to the side, I lifted Gilbert down from the truck. He stumbled onto his face in his haste then ran off the side of the road falling into the brush while I called and ran the other way  towards the bird. He eventually got back to the road and came running to my voice and the smell of his favourite bird dog bird.  He pounced on the grouse  with delight a d  was licking the bloody head and poopy bottom. What dog heaven! I was so happy for Gilbert and he was so gleeful.  He’s been a bit morose with blindness and the headache of glaucoma so it was great to give him this joy.  Laura and I were screaming “Good dog Gilbert’ and he was trying to get at the grouse.  It was all very exciting.
Back in the truck and further along the logging road a mule deer ran across the road. I took the 30:06 rifle from Laura and ran to where it was still standing not 50 yards off the road looking back at me. A female. I didn’t see any other deer around it so crossed the road to check it’s back trail. Males commonly herding the females follow. I glimpsed a flash of movement but no more.  Back in the truck we found our way off the logging road at dusk and headed on to Princeton and through the town west.
It was dark and raining as I headed through Manning Park onto Hope.I cleaned the grouse at a rest stop with a bear proof garbage bin for the waste. . I also walked Gilbert who finally had a big poop after all the cheese he’d eaten and the tramadol pain meds.  I certainly was glad to be out of the widing roads and on the highway back to Vancouver. Unlike returning on weekends, traffic wasn’t bad at all.
Soon we were home and unloading the truck thankful that Eric from Starfleet RV Repairs had fixed the heating problem  I was exhausted. “You drove for 12 hours,” Laura said.  Thankfully the 2017 Ford F350 Lariat Edition truck is a joy to drive.
George, her cat was ecstatic to see her and crawled right into lap upsetting her boyfriend Gilbert no small amount. We ate Kraft Dinner and watched an episode of Blue Bloods with Tom Select to wind down.  After that I sure liked crawling in bed.
 What a great drive. I love circle drives and this Vancouver, Kamloops, Lumby, Nakusp, Castlegar, Grand Forks, Princeton Vancouver is truly one of my all time favourites.  My mind is alive after seeing so much of God’s Country BC. So good for the soul.  Thank you Lord.

Monday, October 9, 2017

Nakusp, Arrow Lakes, and Environs

Laura, Gilbert the Blind Dog, and I stayed Thanksgiving weekend at Bear Ridge Cabins.  In the morning Laura and Gilbert lived the life of elegance and leisure.  She read. He napped.  They walked.  Meanwhile I drove the 2017 Ford F350 truck with the Honda Pioneer 500 ATV on the back out into the wilderness around Nakusp.  The first night I hiked a trail off Hot Springs Road.  The next morning I took the Pioneer 500 ATV along the river beyond the Hot Springs right up into the snow.  There was a light sprinkle at first then the sun came out.  I loved the day. All I shot was one grouse. I never saw any deer, or moose or bear. Some moosey spots for sure but no animals.  Without Gilbert I missed another couple of grouse. He flushes them when they run and hide.  I missed the little guy just for his companionship but knew he was best adapting to blindness with Laura rather than on the rocking reeling ATV. I did my share of hairy driving.  Normally the poor little guy has to hold on for dear life, sitting upright and staring straight forward looking for grouse.  I did take him out at night in the truck when I did the night hunt. I missed a couple of grouse because the truck alarmed when I got out.  That was too much for the grouse. Lights flashing and horn honking. I didn’t get the chance to shoulder my 20 gauge. Gilbert enjoyed the excitement.  We drove home in the dark. In the morning I was out on River Road unloading the Pioneer 500.  It was a beautiful day.  I drove Halcyon Ridge Road right up into the snow.  I hiked some but mostly rode. Despite getting into the Nakusp Hotsprings the day before I was aching all over from the hard hiking and hard ATV driving.  6 grouse sited but all got away because I didn’t have my bird dog along.  I did enjoy taking pictures. The views high up were amazing.  Arrow Lakes are so lovely.  Mount Burnham and Mount Odin and Mount Thor were splendid in the early morning sun.  I loved being up high. I saw a snowshoe hare coming down the trail towards me before it turned and hopped into the bushes. I came across a red fox too and actually chased it for a minute down the logging road.  I was going at 45 km hour with the fox finally leaving the road ahead of my crazy wild dash.  No deer.  Just a lovely day.  Back at Bear Ridge Cabins I barbecued the steaks which we knew Gilbert would want before traditional turkey. It was his weekend.  He loved the treats.  Now we’re planning to get home earlier to be sure to be in town for his eye surgery.  Even though we had 2 less days than planned it’s been a terrific TG vacation and a special time with Gilbert learning to adapt to blindness.