Thursday, November 23, 2017

Gratitude Thursday

Thank you God that I am past the hump of Wednesday in the long and often debilitating soul destroying work week. Thank you that none of my patients died this week in the fentanyl epidemic.  Thank you that my dreams are not disrupted with nightmares.  Thank you that I have work. Thank you that I slept through the night. Thank you that my blind dog greeted me with wagging tail and wanting to play ball. Thank you that the crazy cat was rubbing against my legs as I made coffee and cleaned dishes. Thanks for running water. Thanks for electricity and light and heat. Thanks for propane and heat. Thanks for the rain for the plants sake. Thanks for my vehicle for the awful commutes.

Thanks for the day. Thanks for the prospect of a weekend to catch up on so many things that have overwhelmed me these last weeks. Thanks that I got book keeping done yesterday. Thanks for the meeting. Thanks for the persisting health of a good old friend just out of hospital after 2 months.  May he rally.  Thanks for the friendly faces and the crowds of good people I saw yesterday reminding me that the zombies haven’t won.  I liked the bright eyes and warmth.

Help me Lord to know what to say when people ask “Do you remember me or say You don’t remember me or ask me if I remember their names.”  I don’t know Lord but increasingly ‘put on the spot’ and ‘ambushed’ I feel traumatized like I’m back in school and the teacher pulls a ‘surprise test’.  All of the testing and the constant questioning and never being perfect as demanded by the authorities and state which is failing everywhere troubles me.  I feel like I will be glad to go to my grave if only to get away from the masters who say I’m stupid and uneducated and insensitive and not good enough.  I feel weighted down by the bullying and toxicity and constant condemnation always coupled with the smug Monday morning quarter back attitudes of judges and apparatchiks who insist by their arrogance that if they were there they’d have done better. I feel the strain of personal failure for not wearing a tie or not having cut my hair while I’ve day in day out for decades gone above and beyond the call of duty only now to be called a fool, a workaholic and somehow diseased to not have had balance. And why don’t I drive a better car and why don’t I live in a mansion and what a failure I am not to be like them.

Forgive me Lord for listening to them and letting them get under my skin with their threats and sanctions and condemnation. I am so thankful for the people who thanked me this week for saving their lives.  I was thanked by someone for showing up for work and appreciated that. “I”ve not been able to face this world for months. I appreciate your seeing me. You’re never been mean to me and that’s all I’ve known these last years.  “. I was thankful to hear that.  

There’s ample evidence that I am a worthy human.  I shouldn’t feel that I am ‘stupid’ because I disagree with almost everything that Trudeau stands for. I shouldn’t think that I’m ‘uneducated’ because I find the Laurier University administration fascist communist and frightening and that in Canada such gross administrative bullying is so common.

Help me avoid the propaganda of media. Help me turn off the internet and the radio and avoid the fake news papers in Canada but rather listen to pod casts of medical research and read the Bible verses and remember that this too will pass.

How strange to mingle with friends and talk about whose died and think how soon it will be before we’re considering whose still alive.  I’ve had so many older friends and I have younger friends too but I am only aware of my friends ages by their illnesses.  These storms are before me. Whatever waters I’m sailing in now are nothing compared to those of others. Thank you Lord for my relatively calm seas. Thank you that my boat still floats. Help me to get back to following winds and safe harbours. 

Our father who aren’t in heaven hallowed be thy name, 

Grant me the serenity.

Be still

All shall be well.

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Advent is near

My Lord cometh.  In the deepest darkest nights of the winter year a remembrance of a baby’s birth is celebrated at Christmas. Not a God from a far. Not a machine like presence. No cog in a wheel. But a God become human in the womb.  A visitting God reviewing his creation and the co creators he made.  Obviously not all were good.  Among his own he couldn’t gather even 10 Good men. As one was too fond of money as those who are addicted to money are. The power seekers and the crows who like the shiny.  One day he would say you must give up your wealth to follow me to one who was addicted to gold and pomp but wanted too the love that was this God.
Do not be afraid, he said.  Love God. Love your father as yourselves.  I am the son of God. I am the son of Man.  From his teachings the trinitarian God was born. For when he left this one with the father son of God said he’d send the Holy Spirit to comfort us.
When I think of Jesus Christ, a name which means ‘god within’ and ‘god will come again’, I remember I’m not alone and that my life is playing hide and seek with God. When I forget the spiritual I am sucked into the morass of the material.  I lose sight of the incredible lightness of being in the gravity of the earth dwellers.
God is love.  God is omniscient and omnipotent, transcendent and imminent.  When I am still I know God. Be still and know that I am God. I run this refrain through my mind as a reminder. I can be one with God in such a moment
In advent I celebrate the coming of Christ. The coming of Christ is the coming of light.  In winter we fear the sun will not return. The superstitious childish ancient fear that this is the last of summer and the last of days comes over me in the darkness of the rain. Driving home at night I am troubled.  In the morning I can celebrate the dawn but by the time I leave my work the dusk is gone and it’s as if the sun has been stolen. I feel already like I’m back in the arctic with hardly a few hours of daylight.
Constantine worshipped the sun before he became a follower of Christ.  Love is light.
“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for Thou aren’t with me.”
I had that sense once of being alone. I’ve been so often alone without people but for a moment I thought that I was outside the sphere of God. I’d become so hardened and scarred and had like Satan turned my back on God. I was fascinated by my own shadow. How big it seemed. But then I turned around and again began walking towards the light and didn’t feel alone again.
Amazing Grace. “I was lost but now I’m found”
I love the idea of Grace. That I the seeker of God am being sought. I’m chased by the hound of heaven. Even today the Birth of Christ is coming at me as I am slouching as a beast towards Bethlehem.  I don’t feel particularly good. I value truth and live in a world of increasing lies and those who don’t even know their lies.  Worse there are those entrusted with the protection of truth who have fled from their service, bought for so few pieces of silver.  But then who am I to judge? So often I have denied God even before the cock had but crowed.
I am a ‘sinner’. To sin is to miss the mark.  I do that which I don’t want to do and I don’t do that which I want to do. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. The ‘outcome analysis’ of my endeavours shows the deviations that are still me.  I am flawed though seek perfection , impatient when I would be patient, unkind when I would be kind, quick to rage when I would be more forgiving, speaking when I would be silent. The list is endless.
I pray today that I might be the man my dog thinks I am. I pray today that I might be more loving and kind. I pray to day that I would expand my personal kingdom in service of you. I pray that I could be a better follower and be better in my work and service.
Christ above me. Christ below me. Christ behind me. Christ beside me. Christ in front of me. Christ around me. Protect me Lord.
I pray that I do the best and be the best in my person and my work that I can be this day.  Thank you Lord for all your blessings. Thank you for my parents and family, my teachers and my friends. Thank you for this life Lord, this sacred and wondrous adventure.  Thank you Lord Jesus. Thank you God. Holy Spirit Come!

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Pull Tab Justin Trudeau Doll

I have been listening to PM Justin Trudeau in question and answer period in Ottawa and am not certain he is sentient.  Given the remarkable success of the Trudeau selfie card board cut outs is it not possible that the Trudeau used in question and answer period is indeed a pull tab Trudeau doll?
Given the liberal lack of intellectual stamina indicated by their difficulties with computer payroll schemes and obvious difficulty with big numbers such as budgets, the 60's cardboard cut out did seem to use up their collective creativity at the time.   However this 70's pull tab doll in parliament suggests the progressives are finally making some progress despite all the evidence to the contrary.

What ever question Justin Trudeau is asked he answers with a propaganda pitch reminiscent of the pull cord doll toys.
Question: What is 1+1?:
Answer: “I believe the Liberals are doing a great job. We believe in diversity and  climate change. We are helping women,  aboriginal people and refugees. "
Question: "Is there gravity? Mr. Trudeau?"
Answer: “I believe the Liberals are doing a great job. We believe in diversity and  climate change. We are helping   women , aboriginal people and refugees."

The oddest program though is the sock program.
Question: “Is the sun an orb?"
“I believe the Liberals are doing a great job.  We believe in diversity and climate change. We are helping women,  aboriginal people and refugees. Do you like my socks?"

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Saturday Night at Home

There’s George the cat stretching on the Istanbul camel hair rug. He enjoys the heat of the electric fireplace. Gilbert, the blind cockapoo has been playing fetch. Well, not just fetch. His own adaptation. I fetch it then he plays ‘seek’.  It takes a lot longer for the ball to return. I love his little wagging tail.  He gives me a break every once in awhile stopping to chow down on kibbles from his bowl.
I’ve just watched Interstellar. Second time round. Better this time I think.  I’m watching re runs more often older and enjoying them.  I’ve been reading Dan Brown’s “Origen” and very much enjoying that.  Since I first read Da Vinci Code before the movie I’ve read all of Dan Brown’s books. I’m glad for the new one. Like the Star Trek Discovery.  I’d pretty much settled into a rut of NCIS, Big Bang Theory, Hawaii 5.0 and Blue Bloods until that new Star Trek appeared. I look forward to Sunday night for each episode. The other TV just seems to be on when I’m eating or bored.
I swam yesterday. I’ve been walking Gilbert 2 sometimes 4 times a day. He comes a long with me most places but in addition we walk some.  The rest is work. Work seems to take more time during the week with the hour long commutes.
I”m grateful. I’ve been praying thankfully a lot but soul tired.  `The Fake News and News are tedious.  Some days I feel at ground zero for WW3.  The Communists and Fascists joined forces before the last war.  Now they seem to be doing the same.  Archaic legal political systems with cutting edge science.  I’d be happier if we were doing more to get to Mars. I’d hoped to visit in my life time.  Instead of ‘watching ‘ safe’ Survivor series we might instead be in the action of actual expansion and colonization.  The day will come.
I’m struggling with suicide and the microcosm macrocosm of life and death wishes.  Are they wishes or simply competing forces.  I do wonder about death and after life. The rise in aetheism, materialism’s and consumerism go against the spiritual and transcendent. I am an idea and love. This entity of self is what I know.  I feel contained and constrained in an artificial limition of self with the capacity to go so much beyond this sometimes prison.
I love watching the Camille Paulia and Christina Hoff Summers dialogue. There were a number of good presentations I came across that gave me hope.
I had thought to go out tonight to an event or a meeting. I could be with others but it’s been a fairly busy day, shopping, doing chores.  Tomorrow there’s church and we’re having a party for friends leaving. Laura is with her niece whose leaving too. I think of sailing a lot.  I long to face the Atlantic.  Then there’s this fifth wheel. I’ve the enorsement tests to do.  I barely did the phone calls and paper work this week, there was just so much of it. The toxic workplace is frightening. The new politics of ‘induced paranoia’.  We talk among ourselves about everyone being offended. The shock troops of the dying nation.  I worry about every nuance of speech, fear speaking, feel scripted, inauthentic.  I have been told that I am at work to do the least.  Here take this pill.  How are your bowels?  I worry I won’t be able to be minimalist.  I worry that will offend.  I’m utterly exhausted at the end of the day, watching my back, looking over my shoulder, seeking approval of the authorities, attempting desperately to not offend. I worry too that this is my future, people like I’m trying to be, caring for me.  It’s twisted but I don’t know what to do.  Carrying on.  Euthanasia on the horizon.
I thought what I did was ‘service’. I volunteered for the toughest assignments. Did the decades and some of education and more.  Did more education.  Did more service.  But to them it’s just a job.  I’ve taken life all too seriously.  I wonder at the metaphors that others live by.  These new aetheists, communists and activists.  They talk so much of power and so little of truth.  I spent my life trying to understand and healing. I did my best to do good.  I’ve danced with the devil over and over again and walked so many miles in others shoes. And it just comes down to they’ve got the guns, prisons, asylums and money and how alone I feel at times.
Then I turn to God and promises.  I really am blessed.  Grace is good to me.  God is Good. Life is good.  I am so thankful for my dog, for the cat, for this place with indoor plumbing, heat, and a refrigerator with food. I cooked a venison chilli with the deer I shot last year. I froze it all and took some out last night to microwave.  It was delicious.  What a wonder to eat a living creature I’ve shared with untouched by other hands, respected, blessed, touched, a mystical gift. Then add to that cans of tomato and beans and fresh celery , carrots, zucchini, garlic and onion.  I bought the vegetables from a little market near here where big trucks bring fresh produce daily.  I’ve been enjoying local apples too.  I left the propane stove on low simmer till it was tasty, a little under done so that the microwaving would finish the process.   I’m thankful to have the means to do this, the training, skills , the eperience.
I’ve met others with skills while I see so many addicts who have spent their lives in search of pleasure.  A false pleasure.  This time now brings me joy.  I’ve a cat rubbing against me.  He was asleep and now is awake. The dog is sleeping with a ball at his nose.
It’s been raining. I’m yawning and looking forward to my warm and comfortable bed.  The critters often join me initially but prefer to sleep on the floor once they’re comfortable I’m not leaving the bed.  These are idyllic times.  I hear Crosby Stills Nash and Young singing “our house’ in the distance.  Thank you.  I enjoyed seeing friends on face book, their activities, gatherings, interests and birthdays. I like the animal stories too.  The politics isn’t as vapid and loud.  This may be the lull before the storm.  But it’s just as likely things will muddle along as they do.
I’m thankful.  Thank you.

Friday, November 17, 2017


“I am offended by a blank wall, and if you are not equally offended, I’m even more offended,” Dr. O taught.
A central feature of a personality disorder is an externalized ‘locus of control’.  Developmentally such a person is fixated before the development of self awareness, at a time when their emotional senses are attributed to the environment.  Some theorists say that they have not severed the umbilical cord remaining as an infant emotionally despite outwardly having an adult body and lizard like intellectual development.  
Sociopaths use such individuals as weapons, shields and battering rams for their own personal agendas of greed and self agrandisement. Such sociopaths can claim to be helping these individuals while using them to advance their own power with plausible deniability.
In political jardon these individuals constitute a significant portion of what were called  ‘useful idiots’ or ‘useful fools’.
Like sociopaths they have superego lacunae and lack  the capacity for empathy. Given sociopaths commonly use such individuals for camouflage it’s worthwhile to to think of them as part of the sociopath ‘nest’.
Among emotionally healthy individuals these developmentally delayed individuals would grow and adapt but among sociopaths their disability is sadly tragically capitalized and promoted.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Cariboo Lodge, Clinton and BC Hunting

We had so hoped to meet up with young Mewhort and his hunting wife. We’d all made plans last year but mandatory work arose and I missed them.  They shot a deer.  I shot a rabbit.  I usually shot a moose when I was with the young Mewhort’s father. Indeed it was nearly 30 years ago I shot my first moose at Circle H Ranch in Clinton.
This trip was a joy. A great drive north leaving the maddening city of Vancouver for God’s Country of British Columbia.  Friday afternoon. Laura and I had completed morning clinics and blind Gilbert was excited to be on a hunting trip.  The 2017 Ford F350 Lariat edition truck is a joy to drive.  The 450 km of driving, starting in light in the valley ending in dark on the plateau.  I love passing the tumble weeds.  I’ve travelled up and down the canyon for 4O years. I came first to Vancouver by that route as a child a decade before that with my father driving, my brother and I awed first by the Rockies then this great river passage.
I’d booked ahead with the Cariboo Lodge. Great people. Great accommodation.  I remember when I was young how much I loved the happy loud pub music and dancing. Older I just love the food and hospitality. This time we had rooms in main lodge, log cabin walls.  I was even able to order a Cariboo special pizza when I signed in.
While we’d missed the young Mewhort’s,  Derek and Naomi were there this weekend.  We’d been at their amazing wedding with the incredible ballroom dance routines that reminded me of my youth.   When I saw Derek I said, ‘You know we’re the losers. The other hunters and us are here because we’ve not got game earlier in the season.”  This was the last spike moose and 4 point mule deer weekend.  Princeton, where I might otherwise have hunted was already closed for moose.
Since we were both hunting Derek and I were up at 5 am and headed out at 6 am.  I almost immediately shot a white cotton tail with my Argentinian 20 gauge.  While Derek had shot bear he’d not shot a rabbit and I was delighted to show him how to clean one. Memories of my father and brother and all the rabbit we’d hunted growing up came back.  “I think of deer as just kind of big rabbits and the dressing isn’t all that much different.”  The weather couldn’t have been better. Brisk long john weather. Snow on the fields and in the mountains but sunshine and blue sky. Lots of tracks but no big animals interested in making an appearance  I encouraged Derek to take the Honda 500 down a side trail while I happily stayed in my truck enjoying the comfort watching an open field and marsh for the night hunt.
I learned from Laura that she and Naomi had a terrific day walking Gilbert about town, talking about pregnancy and babies. Laura thinks the world of Naomi.  I told her Derek was as easy to be with, knowledgeable and responsible.  Dinner in the pub was a great evening, the women chatting up a storm while each bite of wonderful food made me realize how full and tired I was . It really was good to get to bed feeling every muscle.  Again 5 am we were up again Derek was glad to take Charles my Honda 500 Side by Side down the side roads..  I really was enjoying the F350 Lariat.   I had new snow tires and the carpet of snow had taken out all the pot holes making the main country road ride as sweet as pavement.  I also liked the heat and comfort.  I  was glad that Derek enjoyed taking the ATV deep in the back woods. He had a Colorado.  The Honda Pioneer is made for the bad back roads.
Still no game.  Another spectacular day.  We came across a herd of wild horses and the cutest little colt. Then some cowboys passed us herding cattle down the road.
More great meals at Caribou Lodge. Derek and Naomi had to leave to get back for work and study the next day. . Laura and I walked Gilbert some more. I road hunted that evening. Echo Valley.  Lots of sign but no big animals.  I did raise some grouse.  I left the truck and hiked a whole lot too.  No luck  Apparently another hunter group got a deer and young Mewhort got his.
In the morning Laura and I packed up . Ugh  Gilbert, we drove off for the last morning hunt.  I saw a coyote crossing the road and actually got a picture from a far. The real delight was the grouse I saw and shot with the 20 gauge. Laura in the truck said Gilbert was ecstatic when the gun went off running circles on the front seat.  I called for her to let him out and the poor blind dog ran right into the ditch. Calling him I got him to find his way back to the road through the snow and plants and finally to the bird still flopping a bit on reflex.  Gilbert the great hunting dog pounced.  He grabbed the throat and killed it proudly. He has his smell and hearing and was obviously delighted to be part of the hunt.
Laura and I were so glad to see his excitement and watch him puff up with pride. He was so disheartened and dejected when he lost his sight but everyday he’s getting better and better.
The drive home was beautiful taking the Duffy Lake Road from Lillouette through Pemberton and down the magnificent Sea to Sky Highway.  I love the Marble rock in the sun light.  We left the snow and returned to the fall colours of trees and leaves..  It was raining as we came into the valley.  I loved passing Howe Sound where I sailed so many years.   I  unloaded all my gear and Charles then  stopped to  store guns and ammo in the gun storage locker before heading home.
I figured the hunting season was over till Spring. There is winter bow hunting but older I confess I’m more of a fair weather hunter than when I was younger.

“Privacy and Professionalism

Marshall McLuhan:”The medium is the message”.
Professional recommendations today are eerily militaristic and reminiscent of the 1950’s.  Autocracy prevails.  Autonomy and freedom are gone.  The doctor must apply the ‘strictest privacy settings to maintain control over access to your personal information.”
When the war began even Freud said, “maybe the paranoids are right’.  War and rumours of war. The gearing up begins.    Relationships ,once membranous and authentic, are now rigid,  codified, Sadducean.   The less fluidity, the better.  “A crossing may be a violation.”
The senior government  beurocrat told me days past, “the patient is the enemy’.  The leading doctor, ex military, not that many years ago, taught, ‘doctors are officers, don’t fraternize with the enlisted.”  On graduation I was taught the only friends I could have were other doctors, lawyers or accountants. Even engineers were suspect.  In the government cafeteria ,like the police, the doctors sat apart.  As a specialist I sat alone. The divide was never greater. The boundaries celebrated,  Moats and walls.  Paul Simon sang “A.Winter’s Day”.
The department head told women and men to take off our wedding rings and remove pictures of children from the offices.  “Here you are only a doctor and you will never share anything about yourself with the patients. Not what you ate for lunch. Not where you live. Not what sports you play. Not what shows you have seen.  Nothing. Everything about yourself must be kept in the strictest of privacy. If I am getting on an elevator and a patient gets on that elevator I will get off even if there are other people on that elevator. Do you understand?”
Today we are told we are always doctors, in and out of the office and hospital, 24/7, weekends and holidays. "You are always a doctor".
The young hospital administrator last year coming into work accosted my colleague after she had delivered a baby in the wee hours of the morning. “Your skirt length should be below your knees.”  He said. “You shouldn’t be looking at my legs,” she replied hurrying sleepless, on to the clinic.  The administrator took out a black book,  made a note and recorded the name.
Today the patient is told, the ‘doctor is the enemy’.  The government demands doctors  have chaperones. The elite doctors alone practice with a lawyer alongside always. Poor doctors are advised to have their lawyers on speed dial.
Growing numbers of doctors would disband professions.  The Government lumps doctors with all the other “unionized’  calling them   ‘health care workers’.  The doctor is the proletariat to the new beurgeosie elites.  The Chinese emperor prided himself on his long finger nails, evidence that he did no manual labour.  The doctor who actually touches a patient is sordid, sharing the stigmatization of themselves of the diseased.  Priviledged land owners and money changers are above all that.
A good professional is seen but not heard.  They are a ‘tool’ and no more.  Their opinion should not be heard but read. Their feelings, families and ideas have no place in the protocols dictated from on high.  Efficient machines must have interchangeable parts especially in war where there is no time for delicacy or individuality.
The discussion of uniforms has returned.  War and rumours of war. The elite are anxious to move forward.  My colleague is questioned for wearing ‘shorts’ in the workplace. Sandals and long hair must go.
I’ve made an appointment at the barber.  When the war broke out even Freud said, “Maybe the paranoids are right.” War and rumours of war.