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Friday, September 17, 2010
Grouse Hunting with Gilbert
The continuing saga. This morning at430 am Sonny's truck didn't start so we all went back to bed. Sonny and I are in town getting Dale at Komar to tow it into Don's for repairs. Gilbert found his first grouse yesterday earning great praise. He spent the day with Luke, Sonny and me and found 2 grouse we would have lost!
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Grouse Hunting
I shot 10 grouse today with my Ruger semi auto 22rifle. I can't recall the last time I got my limit. Maybe 20 years ago north vancouver island. Here north of Fort St James they've all been in coveys. I shoot one on the ground by the trail and several others fly up to perch on tree limbs overhead. I usually shoot a couple more from the original group. I come across them either walking or riding my enduro motorcycle.
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iPadi
- Posted using BlogPress from my
iPadi
Cripple Lake Hunting
The guys got in late last night so couldn't be woken for morning hunt . I'd slept in till light so wasn't judging. Serious hunters have left camp and positioned themselves for dawn. I've done that a lot. But today was miserable, wet and cold. I was glad I ' d found the coffee.
Gearing up in a small tent is always a challenge. Once dressed for hunting things progressed fairly quickly despite the assistance of a wet small dog.
The best hunting is nearest dawn. My friend Bill Mewhort always got us up in the dark so we'd be out on the trail taking a spot to sit and ambush game for the break of dawn. Following his advice I've spent many a morning watching the sun come up looking out over some pristine valley waiting for deer to leave the low lands.
The guys have seen a bull moose and a female moose with a couple of young. Quite the sighting. They also saw a large waddling animal with short tale that sounded just like a wolverine. We've all seen bear.
Next day - sunny and warm - not as good for hunting but great for spirits:
)
Laura is not impressed by sighting of bear. She stays in the camp with her great defender, Gilbert, the 6 month old cockapoo. She has the Budget Rent a Truck to hide in since I'm off on the Honda 230 motorcycle. The guys ATV transmission died the first day so they've been going out with the 1500 truck. Laura has a bear banger with her at all times. I've left her with a loaded 12 guage defender and shown her several times how to crank a buckshot shell into the chamber and fire. I've left her the 3030 too since with one lever action she can put a shell up the spot and shoot that. She has a fire and the generator going but despite all this she suspiciously thinks we brought her and Gilbert along for bait.
At night we sleep with big flashlights and 12 guages loaded with buckshot and slugs.
Before I left I got a 30 below rate top of the line sleeping bag from Mountain Coop. I'm still using the arctic down filled inferno sleeping bag I bought 30 years ago when I was flying up to Churchill medicine to do medicine. That said we're also using coleman catalytic heaters with propane to take the chill off especially in the morning.
When I got my day limit of 10 grouse I told the guys, Luke and Sunny it was there turn now to get a species limit, either a single moose,2 mule dear or a black bear. They're both keen to do that. They've been shooting grouse too and we've all been target practicing on empty cans so it's clear everyone is a fine shot. The problem is finding the big game to shoot at.
I got the canoe out paddling for evening hunt, looking for moose to come down to the lake. In the day time Luke had it out duck hunting. Neither of us was lucky.
We all keep saying though that we love doing all these activities, canoeing, hiking, motorcycling, 4x4ing, target shooting, bird hunting, camping and added to that is big game hunting. Laura is being a trooper providing camp security. Made fabulous steak and potatoes with sour cream one night too.
I ahd to come into Fort St. James because the clutch on my Honda 230 wasn't working. I called up Kit Loveseth the great guy I'd met and gone hunting with the last time I was up here in winter, giving Kumar Towing all the business getting stuck in the heavy snow. Kit's been working but we keep hoping to make contact. I told him his big dog would probably eat Little Gilbertt and he told me has three dogs now. He spoils his dogs just like I do Gilbert. Members of the family.
Kit recommended I contact Andre at his Small Engine Repair place on Robert Road. Andre was there at his place surrounded by ATV and outboards. I got the motorcycle out of the truck. He asked me what had happened, hopped on the motorcycle, road up and down his lane. Made some adjustments. Rode up and down his lane again, made some more adjustments and said. "The cable was loose and slipping but also the clutch itsefl was hitting the bottom of the engine stopping it going up. " 10 minutes and I'm back on the hunt.
Stopped here at Red Fox coffeeshop after stocking up on more propane bottles at the Tru Value Hardware. People at Tru Value were just great, so helpful, and now I'm drinking mocha coffee. It's a really friendly town. Met some fine First Nations folk swapping hunting stories at the gas station and everyone has just been so welcoming.
I love Fort St. James but it's time to get back to Cripple Lake Recreational site and see if the guys have got a moose or Laura has bagged the bear she keeps worrying about. Gilbert had a grouse wing and was in heaven but then he's ecstatic if he can chomp on a discarded plastic water bottle.
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Gearing up in a small tent is always a challenge. Once dressed for hunting things progressed fairly quickly despite the assistance of a wet small dog.
The best hunting is nearest dawn. My friend Bill Mewhort always got us up in the dark so we'd be out on the trail taking a spot to sit and ambush game for the break of dawn. Following his advice I've spent many a morning watching the sun come up looking out over some pristine valley waiting for deer to leave the low lands.
The guys have seen a bull moose and a female moose with a couple of young. Quite the sighting. They also saw a large waddling animal with short tale that sounded just like a wolverine. We've all seen bear.
Next day - sunny and warm - not as good for hunting but great for spirits:
Laura is not impressed by sighting of bear. She stays in the camp with her great defender, Gilbert, the 6 month old cockapoo. She has the Budget Rent a Truck to hide in since I'm off on the Honda 230 motorcycle. The guys ATV transmission died the first day so they've been going out with the 1500 truck. Laura has a bear banger with her at all times. I've left her with a loaded 12 guage defender and shown her several times how to crank a buckshot shell into the chamber and fire. I've left her the 3030 too since with one lever action she can put a shell up the spot and shoot that. She has a fire and the generator going but despite all this she suspiciously thinks we brought her and Gilbert along for bait.
At night we sleep with big flashlights and 12 guages loaded with buckshot and slugs.
Before I left I got a 30 below rate top of the line sleeping bag from Mountain Coop. I'm still using the arctic down filled inferno sleeping bag I bought 30 years ago when I was flying up to Churchill medicine to do medicine. That said we're also using coleman catalytic heaters with propane to take the chill off especially in the morning.
When I got my day limit of 10 grouse I told the guys, Luke and Sunny it was there turn now to get a species limit, either a single moose,2 mule dear or a black bear. They're both keen to do that. They've been shooting grouse too and we've all been target practicing on empty cans so it's clear everyone is a fine shot. The problem is finding the big game to shoot at.
I got the canoe out paddling for evening hunt, looking for moose to come down to the lake. In the day time Luke had it out duck hunting. Neither of us was lucky.
We all keep saying though that we love doing all these activities, canoeing, hiking, motorcycling, 4x4ing, target shooting, bird hunting, camping and added to that is big game hunting. Laura is being a trooper providing camp security. Made fabulous steak and potatoes with sour cream one night too.
I ahd to come into Fort St. James because the clutch on my Honda 230 wasn't working. I called up Kit Loveseth the great guy I'd met and gone hunting with the last time I was up here in winter, giving Kumar Towing all the business getting stuck in the heavy snow. Kit's been working but we keep hoping to make contact. I told him his big dog would probably eat Little Gilbertt and he told me has three dogs now. He spoils his dogs just like I do Gilbert. Members of the family.
Kit recommended I contact Andre at his Small Engine Repair place on Robert Road. Andre was there at his place surrounded by ATV and outboards. I got the motorcycle out of the truck. He asked me what had happened, hopped on the motorcycle, road up and down his lane. Made some adjustments. Rode up and down his lane again, made some more adjustments and said. "The cable was loose and slipping but also the clutch itsefl was hitting the bottom of the engine stopping it going up. " 10 minutes and I'm back on the hunt.
Stopped here at Red Fox coffeeshop after stocking up on more propane bottles at the Tru Value Hardware. People at Tru Value were just great, so helpful, and now I'm drinking mocha coffee. It's a really friendly town. Met some fine First Nations folk swapping hunting stories at the gas station and everyone has just been so welcoming.
I love Fort St. James but it's time to get back to Cripple Lake Recreational site and see if the guys have got a moose or Laura has bagged the bear she keeps worrying about. Gilbert had a grouse wing and was in heaven but then he's ecstatic if he can chomp on a discarded plastic water bottle.
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Cripple Lake Campsite
The guys didn't make it back tonight. I figure they most likely got stuck. I've spent several nights in my truck waiting for morning to make my way out. Their ATV had a malfunction already. They had to hike miles to get a lift back to camp. I thought maybe they'd shot a moose and were having to hike it back. I trust they're well.
It was a rough night arriving here at 130 am and setting up camp. I couldn't get the cot up or the heater working. Laura was beat as was I.Gilbert woke me as usual at 7. So I was first up. I couldn't find coffee and it turned out we didn't have mugs. Luke eventually had coffee brewed because it turned out my stove didn't work. Gilbert got in z dirty puddle and came into the tent to lie on laura's face. Not a good start to the day.
I finally got on my Honda 230 motorcycle and headed out with my 30:06. It's awesome terrain around here. I immediately spooked a big black bear bu it had gone into deep brush by the time I was off the bike and loading the rifle. I put out a target and got bullseye a out 100 yards. That's when I began coming across grouse shooting off the heads with my rifle. When I headed back to camp it was noon and I had 8 grouse.
Gilbert was most intrigued as I was cleaning the on the makeshift dock by the lake. Laura was feeling better. I drove back into town and got the things web were missing. It was duck when I completed the hour drive back.
Laura said the guys had shot some grouse taken food and gone out for the night hunt. The fire has been warm. Luke chopped a lot of wood.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It was a rough night arriving here at 130 am and setting up camp. I couldn't get the cot up or the heater working. Laura was beat as was I.Gilbert woke me as usual at 7. So I was first up. I couldn't find coffee and it turned out we didn't have mugs. Luke eventually had coffee brewed because it turned out my stove didn't work. Gilbert got in z dirty puddle and came into the tent to lie on laura's face. Not a good start to the day.
I finally got on my Honda 230 motorcycle and headed out with my 30:06. It's awesome terrain around here. I immediately spooked a big black bear bu it had gone into deep brush by the time I was off the bike and loading the rifle. I put out a target and got bullseye a out 100 yards. That's when I began coming across grouse shooting off the heads with my rifle. When I headed back to camp it was noon and I had 8 grouse.
Gilbert was most intrigued as I was cleaning the on the makeshift dock by the lake. Laura was feeling better. I drove back into town and got the things web were missing. It was duck when I completed the hour drive back.
Laura said the guys had shot some grouse taken food and gone out for the night hunt. The fire has been warm. Luke chopped a lot of wood.
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Friday, September 10, 2010
Noblesse Oblige
Noblesse Oblige was the doctrine that the nobility owed an equal duty to their underlings as those owed to them. It was recently well portrayed in the film of Tolstoy. The theology of medieval days intrinsically interconnected leadership and followers in earth metaphors. One of the oldest of these was Sun and Moon with the eclipse representing a variety of interactions. Metaphors of family and reproduction dominated hunting gatherer societies and agricultural societies.
Today we're said to be in post modern times. The modern world was dominated by the machine with the metaphor of the 'clock' and it's various interconnected but obviously loveless parts. Today the question is what metaphor explains to us our relationship to others.
For many it would seem the entertainment industry has dominated their psyche. The idea is to be a 'star' probably because the 'worker paradise' of today has to such a large extent killed the mother. Without mothers the young seeks adulation of the stranger. Institutions dominate a child's life from 'cradle to grave'. The saddest children more often are those most deprived of family by repeated foster homes, jails and asylums. So often the constant of all children today is the television. The television dramas are superheros and villains mostly. PBS barely exists. Reality television has brought with it just a slight variation with it's orchestrated 'survival' shows based on Hollywood ideas of social organization that derive solely from the imagination of Hollywood.
There's a unreality intrinsic in this 'canned' and 'pampered' urban motif. Medicine and law provide other metaphors as does politics to some extent. Of these only medicine, to my mind, biased as it is, remains 'grounded' in nature. The rest seem to be the stuff of Berkeley whose very existence was but an idea. Philosophy and theologies abound disconnected from any inherent experience. Everything is a theory and one person says his theory is the best theory because more often than not it is merely the latest retelling of a more ancient truth lost in the layers upon layers of theory. The ideas of beaurocracies rival the fashion industry, all vying to convince the emperor or in this case, the people, that they really are 'new clothes.'
M-theory, 'model dependent theories' and pluralisms and amorality arise in the ethics free vacuums. What really is proven? Society compared to a clock was made to work as such. Winning wars of mass destructions the leadership imposed the metaphor of military on the society at large without apparently that glue of the 'noblesse oblige' of yesteryear.
Indeed, the metaphor of the individual as 'consumer' is a weak one as such and yet it's used to fuel all manner of seller dominated production of poison. Missiles, tobacco, crack and opiates all are equal to diapers, wheat, clothing and houses in the market analogy of modern valueless economics. Bean counters distinguished by their relative heartlessness are setting standards for society when their very methodologies are those of technicians not savants.
What is the relationship that governs the obligations of the rich to the poor, the powerful to the powerless. Post Christianity as some would celebrate, what is the relationship that will protect us all from the equal ideologies of big 'C' Communism under Stalin and big "F" fascism under Hitler.
The leadership are indeed more educated perhaps than ever before. They've had privilege and lives protected and indeed pampered. Seeing Prince Harry in the military like his father before him was certainly a blast from the past as far as 'noblesse oblige' was concerned. Here was the future King learning that a man must feed the men and lead the men not just send them out like one would 'mercenaries'. It hearkened to the likes of Henry Ford on the assembly line.
But what of the Rockerfellers and Roschilds. Would the 'banking' families have a concept of 'noblesse oblige' or ever actually 'mix' with the people. Would they not remain 'effete' in their protected worlds using the 'emperor's' of China 'gated community' analogies for their relationships. Is this necessarily intrinsic in the television metaphors of the Divas surrounded by sycophants and protected from their 'fans'. Princess Di was killed apparently by paparazzi.
Without 'noblesse oblige' what really protects us from another World War since we're just 'toys', perhaps in the schemes of men, women and monsters. Science would say we are interconnected but not in the way of God, not in the way of the nature of Newton. It's necessarily a frightening thought as one goes into old age and adage. To the banker, old money is just discarded. To the marketing ad man, the old images are discarded until time makes them all new again. To the Chinese Emperor or Stalin or Hitler, what were a thousand deaths compared to a million in the grand scheme of their designs for world domination.
I would rather a society see me in a way that protects me in old age and protects it's young. Television is too dominated with the healthy and the beautiful. Feeling ugly and old I trust the farmer's respect for the 'old grey mare' and the king who cared for his elders, especially those who served his father.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Today we're said to be in post modern times. The modern world was dominated by the machine with the metaphor of the 'clock' and it's various interconnected but obviously loveless parts. Today the question is what metaphor explains to us our relationship to others.
For many it would seem the entertainment industry has dominated their psyche. The idea is to be a 'star' probably because the 'worker paradise' of today has to such a large extent killed the mother. Without mothers the young seeks adulation of the stranger. Institutions dominate a child's life from 'cradle to grave'. The saddest children more often are those most deprived of family by repeated foster homes, jails and asylums. So often the constant of all children today is the television. The television dramas are superheros and villains mostly. PBS barely exists. Reality television has brought with it just a slight variation with it's orchestrated 'survival' shows based on Hollywood ideas of social organization that derive solely from the imagination of Hollywood.
There's a unreality intrinsic in this 'canned' and 'pampered' urban motif. Medicine and law provide other metaphors as does politics to some extent. Of these only medicine, to my mind, biased as it is, remains 'grounded' in nature. The rest seem to be the stuff of Berkeley whose very existence was but an idea. Philosophy and theologies abound disconnected from any inherent experience. Everything is a theory and one person says his theory is the best theory because more often than not it is merely the latest retelling of a more ancient truth lost in the layers upon layers of theory. The ideas of beaurocracies rival the fashion industry, all vying to convince the emperor or in this case, the people, that they really are 'new clothes.'
M-theory, 'model dependent theories' and pluralisms and amorality arise in the ethics free vacuums. What really is proven? Society compared to a clock was made to work as such. Winning wars of mass destructions the leadership imposed the metaphor of military on the society at large without apparently that glue of the 'noblesse oblige' of yesteryear.
Indeed, the metaphor of the individual as 'consumer' is a weak one as such and yet it's used to fuel all manner of seller dominated production of poison. Missiles, tobacco, crack and opiates all are equal to diapers, wheat, clothing and houses in the market analogy of modern valueless economics. Bean counters distinguished by their relative heartlessness are setting standards for society when their very methodologies are those of technicians not savants.
What is the relationship that governs the obligations of the rich to the poor, the powerful to the powerless. Post Christianity as some would celebrate, what is the relationship that will protect us all from the equal ideologies of big 'C' Communism under Stalin and big "F" fascism under Hitler.
The leadership are indeed more educated perhaps than ever before. They've had privilege and lives protected and indeed pampered. Seeing Prince Harry in the military like his father before him was certainly a blast from the past as far as 'noblesse oblige' was concerned. Here was the future King learning that a man must feed the men and lead the men not just send them out like one would 'mercenaries'. It hearkened to the likes of Henry Ford on the assembly line.
But what of the Rockerfellers and Roschilds. Would the 'banking' families have a concept of 'noblesse oblige' or ever actually 'mix' with the people. Would they not remain 'effete' in their protected worlds using the 'emperor's' of China 'gated community' analogies for their relationships. Is this necessarily intrinsic in the television metaphors of the Divas surrounded by sycophants and protected from their 'fans'. Princess Di was killed apparently by paparazzi.
Without 'noblesse oblige' what really protects us from another World War since we're just 'toys', perhaps in the schemes of men, women and monsters. Science would say we are interconnected but not in the way of God, not in the way of the nature of Newton. It's necessarily a frightening thought as one goes into old age and adage. To the banker, old money is just discarded. To the marketing ad man, the old images are discarded until time makes them all new again. To the Chinese Emperor or Stalin or Hitler, what were a thousand deaths compared to a million in the grand scheme of their designs for world domination.
I would rather a society see me in a way that protects me in old age and protects it's young. Television is too dominated with the healthy and the beautiful. Feeling ugly and old I trust the farmer's respect for the 'old grey mare' and the king who cared for his elders, especially those who served his father.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Humans and Animal after Crash
Coming back from Hope on Labour Day weekend my truck and trailer ended in the ditch facing the direction from whence we came. Quite possibly Laura, Gilbert and I and the truck and trailer had had such a good time our first weekend as Good Sam RV people that the truck and trailer were refusing to return to Vancouver. It would have been a sweet idea if the Hal moment hadn't ended in Laura screaming and the truck and trailer being wrenched apart by the forces, the trailer landing on it's side, while the truck rebounded with an awesome jerk.
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police came to our rescue, not mounted on horses or wearing red serge but being really terrific caring people. The highly competent Jamie Davis towing group arrived and literally got the truck and trailer out of the ditch and back to their compound. Laura's daughter Shannon and son in law Ryan with their kids Paris and Kingsley arrived with hugs and assurances.
The consequence was that in relatively no time we were back in Vancouver. The trouble was that by then my neck and back had seized up. Both Laura and I were forgetful, having problems concentrating, making mistakes and taking endless time to do the simplest thing. I simply couldn't see myself going to work worried I'd make a terrible mistake and literally unable to sit for an hour.
Laura was more of a trooper. I hobbled about moaning and acting typically macho. Laura drove me to George. George was a brick. He reassured me. He's a healer. Something about his humorous manner just lightens the load. I was feeling better immediately after he touched me. Healing touch. He wants me to get x-rays. I'm not sure x-rays are good for psychiatrists. My psychiatrist friend kindly pointed out that trauma does things to the psyche. Friends were generally solicitous and the staff were terrific. Self pity doesn't work when people are so caring.
The insurance company was weird. A strange zebra of people. One drone with that heartless how can I make a buck attitude thinking their zomboid tones of voice are utterly loud and transparent.. I was immediately reminded of the hospital administrator who wanted me to stop a life saving medication because it wasn't 'approved'. Naturally these are the shadow folk. They talk on telephones or tell you behind things closed doors. "I remember saying, "The patient will die. Will you tell the family." "That's not my concern. We can't waste valuable resources." they'd said. I didn't tell the patient in the morning when they came alive. I often think I should of. These desk jockey sociopaths only know money and want gold stars from corporate managers who haven't apparently read "Snakes in Suits".
That said, there's these other folk in the insurance company who aren't hustling you. Maybe it's a good guy bad guy routine. I try not to be paranoid. Or maybe it's just maturity. There are these real people who are actually are just being honest and helpful. There's no deceit in their voices. I suspect they're more senior and feel deeply sorry for the people who only encounter the lying hustlers intent on making a buck. I remember asking such an insurance man to stop harassing my patient who was delirious when this fellow in Manitoba was trying to get this farmer to sign off on $500. The eventual claim was $50,000 or more but here was this agent "just trying to make a buck", "just doing my job", "just feeding the kids." They're the sort of people who make tobacco salesmen look saintly.
When I worked overseas there were dozen insurance companies involved in health care. We felt sorry for the families who had made the mistake of getting the bad apple company. Their kids routinely died because that insurance company would not authorize evacuation to the main centre, doing that covert aggression poison dance of delay and subterfuge till the babies were dead, over and over again. All the other companies had the same policies and did their best to keep the babies and children alive, all except that one.
And then there are all the good insurance companies and all the good insurance stories. And without insurance we'd all experience tremendous loss. I sailed solo across the ocean, around the islands and along the northern coasts all along without insurance but I don't want to live that way all the time. I like insurance. I always have as much as I can. Insurance companies collectively have made a fortune off of my patronage.
In the end I always find that there's an amazing education to be had going through these experiences. It a lesson in humility and increases empathy at the very least.
Right now, I've no patience, though. I'm irritable and frustrated. I felt incredible rage when I talked to this fellow who was paid to do something and didn't do it because he was lazy, incompetent or just a sociopath. I figure he lied about what he didn't do either. He tried blame and shame and appeared the sort to read 'negotiation through intimidation' books. I figured he was an addict too. Maybe a cannibal. Probably a child molester. Certainly alien. Never learned to wash his armpits or his genitals. Probably has sex with goldfish.
It's a good thing I'm not working. I did a clinic. It's addiction medicine predominantly and not psychiatry alone. Psychiatry alone requires a special kind of sensitivity I don't have to today. I didn't even think the person who was talking to me had a mother. I've worked with murderers, pedophiles, gang members, psychopaths and I don't forget they have mothers.
That said, my dog is just fine. Laura is in pain and unhappy but bearing up well. Gilbert is staying close to her. We're supposed to be on holidays. It's more of a sick leave right now but I'm grateful I'm not working.
I was just walking Gilbert along a stream enjoying the night breeze and rippling water. The stars are so bright here in the country. I'm going to focus on the day.
Luke and Sunny are two really funny guys. They're joining us tomorrow. Every day since the accident we're getting better and better.
There's definitely life after a truck and trailer crash. I'm even hoping to sleep through the night. Gilbert likes his new squeaky toy.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police came to our rescue, not mounted on horses or wearing red serge but being really terrific caring people. The highly competent Jamie Davis towing group arrived and literally got the truck and trailer out of the ditch and back to their compound. Laura's daughter Shannon and son in law Ryan with their kids Paris and Kingsley arrived with hugs and assurances.
The consequence was that in relatively no time we were back in Vancouver. The trouble was that by then my neck and back had seized up. Both Laura and I were forgetful, having problems concentrating, making mistakes and taking endless time to do the simplest thing. I simply couldn't see myself going to work worried I'd make a terrible mistake and literally unable to sit for an hour.
Laura was more of a trooper. I hobbled about moaning and acting typically macho. Laura drove me to George. George was a brick. He reassured me. He's a healer. Something about his humorous manner just lightens the load. I was feeling better immediately after he touched me. Healing touch. He wants me to get x-rays. I'm not sure x-rays are good for psychiatrists. My psychiatrist friend kindly pointed out that trauma does things to the psyche. Friends were generally solicitous and the staff were terrific. Self pity doesn't work when people are so caring.
The insurance company was weird. A strange zebra of people. One drone with that heartless how can I make a buck attitude thinking their zomboid tones of voice are utterly loud and transparent.. I was immediately reminded of the hospital administrator who wanted me to stop a life saving medication because it wasn't 'approved'. Naturally these are the shadow folk. They talk on telephones or tell you behind things closed doors. "I remember saying, "The patient will die. Will you tell the family." "That's not my concern. We can't waste valuable resources." they'd said. I didn't tell the patient in the morning when they came alive. I often think I should of. These desk jockey sociopaths only know money and want gold stars from corporate managers who haven't apparently read "Snakes in Suits".
That said, there's these other folk in the insurance company who aren't hustling you. Maybe it's a good guy bad guy routine. I try not to be paranoid. Or maybe it's just maturity. There are these real people who are actually are just being honest and helpful. There's no deceit in their voices. I suspect they're more senior and feel deeply sorry for the people who only encounter the lying hustlers intent on making a buck. I remember asking such an insurance man to stop harassing my patient who was delirious when this fellow in Manitoba was trying to get this farmer to sign off on $500. The eventual claim was $50,000 or more but here was this agent "just trying to make a buck", "just doing my job", "just feeding the kids." They're the sort of people who make tobacco salesmen look saintly.
When I worked overseas there were dozen insurance companies involved in health care. We felt sorry for the families who had made the mistake of getting the bad apple company. Their kids routinely died because that insurance company would not authorize evacuation to the main centre, doing that covert aggression poison dance of delay and subterfuge till the babies were dead, over and over again. All the other companies had the same policies and did their best to keep the babies and children alive, all except that one.
And then there are all the good insurance companies and all the good insurance stories. And without insurance we'd all experience tremendous loss. I sailed solo across the ocean, around the islands and along the northern coasts all along without insurance but I don't want to live that way all the time. I like insurance. I always have as much as I can. Insurance companies collectively have made a fortune off of my patronage.
In the end I always find that there's an amazing education to be had going through these experiences. It a lesson in humility and increases empathy at the very least.
Right now, I've no patience, though. I'm irritable and frustrated. I felt incredible rage when I talked to this fellow who was paid to do something and didn't do it because he was lazy, incompetent or just a sociopath. I figure he lied about what he didn't do either. He tried blame and shame and appeared the sort to read 'negotiation through intimidation' books. I figured he was an addict too. Maybe a cannibal. Probably a child molester. Certainly alien. Never learned to wash his armpits or his genitals. Probably has sex with goldfish.
It's a good thing I'm not working. I did a clinic. It's addiction medicine predominantly and not psychiatry alone. Psychiatry alone requires a special kind of sensitivity I don't have to today. I didn't even think the person who was talking to me had a mother. I've worked with murderers, pedophiles, gang members, psychopaths and I don't forget they have mothers.
That said, my dog is just fine. Laura is in pain and unhappy but bearing up well. Gilbert is staying close to her. We're supposed to be on holidays. It's more of a sick leave right now but I'm grateful I'm not working.
I was just walking Gilbert along a stream enjoying the night breeze and rippling water. The stars are so bright here in the country. I'm going to focus on the day.
Luke and Sunny are two really funny guys. They're joining us tomorrow. Every day since the accident we're getting better and better.
There's definitely life after a truck and trailer crash. I'm even hoping to sleep through the night. Gilbert likes his new squeaky toy.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Death of a Trailer
I woke Labour day after a lovely sleep. Gilbert and I walked for miles and returned to have coffee while Laura bathed. Next I showered while Laura stowed. Then together, as a team, I backed up the truck and she guided me to where it was aligned with the hitch. I'd raised the hitch just the right amount that with a kick the ball fit snugly into the cup. I put on the tension bars and chains and locked the whole thing down while Laura wound up the struts. I'd disconnected power and water, turned off the propane and locked all the doors. We pulled out of No. 20 and turned the corner. A family asked if we could give them a battery boost and we did.
At the sani station a fellow was already there emptying his tanks. I watched and asked questions. He was extremely helpful. Like Ryan he said, "Empty the black water with toilet paper and such, then empty the grey water from dish washing and showering. It works best that way." My turn came and Laura got out and helped me allign the outlet and sani disposal hole. The hose is stored in the back bumper. I got it out and twisted it on the outlet. Then I pulled the easily marked levers and sure enough gravity brought the black water out. When the hose had stopped moving and the sound of flow had finished I switched to the grey water. We waited a while longer for this to finish. Then it was done. I closed off the grey water and unhooked the hose, rinsed it all down with the handy water hose by the sani station and put everything away. I was ecstatic. "We did it."
We drove down Flood Hope Road and entered the Freeway. Everything was going well. I was going 80 km to 85 km with cars passing and getting some wind buffeting in the open. We'd entered the more wooded section and I remember I took my right hand off the wheel to adjust my glasses and suddenly the rig began to fish tail. Both hands on the wheel I tried to compensate, driving like Winnipeg black ice driving, while slowing with foot gently on the brake, but the trailer fish knifed passed me. Laura was screaming. I was perplexed because I couldn't figure why we weren't stopping but being carried in circle. I was in the next lane and worried most about on coming traffic having forgotten completely we were in the two lane same direction freeway. We'd slowed considerably but were just being carried into the ditch with Laura crying out, "We're going over."
I braced to roll but we just slid into the ditch with the trailer now behind us and us facing the on coming traffic. The trailer went over. That's for sure. It lifted us up before the tongue broke and the truck fell back to the ground. We were shook up.
Laura and Gilbert were fine. "Are you okay," I asked. "Yes, and Gilbert's fine. I held onto him the whole way." Gilbert looked confused and Laura looked a little in shock. I got out of the truck and told all the cars that stopped that we were okay. I dialed 911 and let the police know that we'd gone off the road and asked them to call a tow truck.
At that point a RCMP car arrived and really big guy got out and surveyed the damage, asking if everyone was okay. I told him, yes and then he asked for license and registration and the whole endless paperwork thing transpired while a fellow from the second car came to take pictures and block the lane for the big Davis Rescue tow truck to get in and do it's work. A woman had talked with Laura. The police man made sure she was alright. I checked in and she seemed fine.
I'd rolled a vehicle before when I was coming onto the freeway and someone had strewn the turn with anti vehicle military tacks that punctured my tires and caused me to just flip over and lie on my side like a dead cow. The plane crash I'd been in when the DC3 on landing skid into that ditch crumpling the wing big time and we'd all had to climb upwards out the side of the ship. Each time there'd been that sense of being in the hands of God. That's what Laura said, "I felt like there was nothing I could do but I knew I was in the hands of God. " She later said, "I thought we were going over a precipice and we were going to die." I'd never thought that we were going to die. Probably because I'd been through this in worst cases at higher speeds and this all just seemed in slow motion. The seat belts really did save us though.
I climbed into the trailer to get the papers and the whole insides looked like they'd been in a washing machine. It was a mess. The Stove and Refridgerator had torn out of the wall and were on their fronts. The coffee maker which had been in a bottom cupboard was in the top cupboard having flown kitty corner across the trailer. I understand now why people are not supposed to ride in the back. The plexiglass dishes were shattered in little pieces. Later, Laura, showing her daughter the mess inside would say, "We had a trailer trash party last night and I just haven't had time to clean up."
The RCMP were wonderful. Cst. Duane Hillier was courteous, kind, and helpful. The guys from Jamie Davis Towing and Recovery from Hope arrived and really knew their business. Everything seemed mangled to me. The hitch was twisted and the trailer tongue was collapsed and this big house was lying on it's side. Using a bolt cutter and a hammer they separated the twisted mangled hitch from the trailer then efficiently had the trailer righted with their hoist. They told me to try driving slowly out of the ditch in 4x4. I did this but on the flat it was obvious it wasn't drivable. The one tire was blown but the both tires were splayed outward and the exhaust and back frame was torsioned. Trailer and truck had been thoroughly mauled.
Laura had called her daughter Shannon. And now Ryan arrived in his big ford with his wife Shannon, and Laura's grandchildren, Paris, and the baby Kingston. Ryan has been driving big machines all his life and has a homungus motor home. Going out to help his mother in law in the ditch was just another family outing for him. He was getting Kingston started early in the family legacy of big vehicles. We jumped in with him and followed the mortally wounded trailer back to the compound. There Laura and Shannon got inside and unloaded the clothes and new sheets and comforter. Ryan and I cleared out the box of the mangled truck. I had my chain saw in there and found the portable winch behind the seat under the tarps and dog bed. It's amazing all the little useful things that get stuffed inside trucks, flash lights, knives, safety gear. We piled it all in the back of Ryan's truck.
He drove the family back to his place. Laura and Shannon had the ice cream bars out of the fridge and looking behind me here they all were eating ice cream bars looking like any old family outing. Paris was really happy to be with her grandmother and Kingston was really pleased to be with his daddy in daddy's big truck. Shannon was really glad her mom was a live and well. I felt stupid but really thankful Ryan was there. I realized I was kind of dazed. There was a surreal quality about the accident. I think it mostly had to do with a close brush with death. Even after I realized there was no on coming traffic I still couldn't shake that idea as it harkened back to other near misses. I noticed i was a bit jumpy and traffic seemed more intense. Laura was ecstatic to be with the little ones. She was all lit up and aglow with just being with Shannon. Mother love and family. And I was glad for Ryan. He's got a great sense of humor and it helped as I was quite distracted and increasingly aware I wasn't wholly present. A part of me was already reflecting on the Grace of God and another reminder it wasn't my time yet.
I also felt responsible but knew hindsight is a proctoscope. Still I was going over and over how quickly the whole thing had gone south.
While we were driving back to his place I phoned the ICBC 'dial a claim' and had a very pleasant person take all my details. Laura and Ryan helped answer questions she put to me which I couldn't answer. Laura had kept all the paperwork togther from the police and towing, the two insurance papers and I just read off numbers upon numbers till finally she gave me two claim numbers. I was getting stiff and sore by this time too wondering why my neck and back were feeling so much tension and yet I didn't remember any particular strain.
Though I have a top notch insurance record and had all the insurance possible, there wasn't apparently a rental car available on the labour day holiday. Ryan however phoned around and sure enough Budget had a truck I could use. So off we went leaving Laura with the girls and Kingston. They were having a grand visit with Paris showing Laura all her new back to school clothes and things. Kingston barely toddling was happy to hang out with the girls. Gage, the great dane, was entertaining Gilbert who is hugely impressed with Gage, whose greatest attraction is that he hardly notices Gilbert. Gage is the size of a horse and Gilbert despite jumping up and down and running circles around Gage is well below Gage's dog radar.
In a jiffy I was back at Ryan's picking up Laura, Gilbert and the new pillows and bedding we'd rescued along with our clothing. Good byes, thanks and hugs all round. Gage drooled on Gilbert who took this as big time praise and affection.
Then we were off. Traffic was surprisingly not backed up. "I guess no one else has rolled a trailer ahead of us." I said. We were both a little stunned on the way back.
I'd uploaded pictures to face book while I'd waited and Laura now looked at these delighted with the picture of her and the kids all eating ice cream. Everyone was glad we were okay.
"I really felt like I was in the hands of God and it would all be okay," she said. I felt the same. Faith is such a comfort.
Parking the rental truck, I trudged inside to a hot shower. Next I cancelled work. I was stiff and sore and dazed. "I'm afraid I'm no good to anyone else right now."
Laura laughed. "What do you expect. We've just been in a major car crash and I thought we were going to die."
I was going to live in that trailer along with the boat and now felt sort of 'homeless'.
Gilbert chased the cats and showed no evidence whatsoever of being 'traumatized'.
I loved Ryan saying, "You guys loved the trailer. When you were knocked down in a storm in your boat you didn't give up boating, did you." On the way back Laura and I decided we didn't want to give up trailer camping either.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
At the sani station a fellow was already there emptying his tanks. I watched and asked questions. He was extremely helpful. Like Ryan he said, "Empty the black water with toilet paper and such, then empty the grey water from dish washing and showering. It works best that way." My turn came and Laura got out and helped me allign the outlet and sani disposal hole. The hose is stored in the back bumper. I got it out and twisted it on the outlet. Then I pulled the easily marked levers and sure enough gravity brought the black water out. When the hose had stopped moving and the sound of flow had finished I switched to the grey water. We waited a while longer for this to finish. Then it was done. I closed off the grey water and unhooked the hose, rinsed it all down with the handy water hose by the sani station and put everything away. I was ecstatic. "We did it."
We drove down Flood Hope Road and entered the Freeway. Everything was going well. I was going 80 km to 85 km with cars passing and getting some wind buffeting in the open. We'd entered the more wooded section and I remember I took my right hand off the wheel to adjust my glasses and suddenly the rig began to fish tail. Both hands on the wheel I tried to compensate, driving like Winnipeg black ice driving, while slowing with foot gently on the brake, but the trailer fish knifed passed me. Laura was screaming. I was perplexed because I couldn't figure why we weren't stopping but being carried in circle. I was in the next lane and worried most about on coming traffic having forgotten completely we were in the two lane same direction freeway. We'd slowed considerably but were just being carried into the ditch with Laura crying out, "We're going over."
I braced to roll but we just slid into the ditch with the trailer now behind us and us facing the on coming traffic. The trailer went over. That's for sure. It lifted us up before the tongue broke and the truck fell back to the ground. We were shook up.
Laura and Gilbert were fine. "Are you okay," I asked. "Yes, and Gilbert's fine. I held onto him the whole way." Gilbert looked confused and Laura looked a little in shock. I got out of the truck and told all the cars that stopped that we were okay. I dialed 911 and let the police know that we'd gone off the road and asked them to call a tow truck.
At that point a RCMP car arrived and really big guy got out and surveyed the damage, asking if everyone was okay. I told him, yes and then he asked for license and registration and the whole endless paperwork thing transpired while a fellow from the second car came to take pictures and block the lane for the big Davis Rescue tow truck to get in and do it's work. A woman had talked with Laura. The police man made sure she was alright. I checked in and she seemed fine.
I'd rolled a vehicle before when I was coming onto the freeway and someone had strewn the turn with anti vehicle military tacks that punctured my tires and caused me to just flip over and lie on my side like a dead cow. The plane crash I'd been in when the DC3 on landing skid into that ditch crumpling the wing big time and we'd all had to climb upwards out the side of the ship. Each time there'd been that sense of being in the hands of God. That's what Laura said, "I felt like there was nothing I could do but I knew I was in the hands of God. " She later said, "I thought we were going over a precipice and we were going to die." I'd never thought that we were going to die. Probably because I'd been through this in worst cases at higher speeds and this all just seemed in slow motion. The seat belts really did save us though.
I climbed into the trailer to get the papers and the whole insides looked like they'd been in a washing machine. It was a mess. The Stove and Refridgerator had torn out of the wall and were on their fronts. The coffee maker which had been in a bottom cupboard was in the top cupboard having flown kitty corner across the trailer. I understand now why people are not supposed to ride in the back. The plexiglass dishes were shattered in little pieces. Later, Laura, showing her daughter the mess inside would say, "We had a trailer trash party last night and I just haven't had time to clean up."
The RCMP were wonderful. Cst. Duane Hillier was courteous, kind, and helpful. The guys from Jamie Davis Towing and Recovery from Hope arrived and really knew their business. Everything seemed mangled to me. The hitch was twisted and the trailer tongue was collapsed and this big house was lying on it's side. Using a bolt cutter and a hammer they separated the twisted mangled hitch from the trailer then efficiently had the trailer righted with their hoist. They told me to try driving slowly out of the ditch in 4x4. I did this but on the flat it was obvious it wasn't drivable. The one tire was blown but the both tires were splayed outward and the exhaust and back frame was torsioned. Trailer and truck had been thoroughly mauled.
Laura had called her daughter Shannon. And now Ryan arrived in his big ford with his wife Shannon, and Laura's grandchildren, Paris, and the baby Kingston. Ryan has been driving big machines all his life and has a homungus motor home. Going out to help his mother in law in the ditch was just another family outing for him. He was getting Kingston started early in the family legacy of big vehicles. We jumped in with him and followed the mortally wounded trailer back to the compound. There Laura and Shannon got inside and unloaded the clothes and new sheets and comforter. Ryan and I cleared out the box of the mangled truck. I had my chain saw in there and found the portable winch behind the seat under the tarps and dog bed. It's amazing all the little useful things that get stuffed inside trucks, flash lights, knives, safety gear. We piled it all in the back of Ryan's truck.
He drove the family back to his place. Laura and Shannon had the ice cream bars out of the fridge and looking behind me here they all were eating ice cream bars looking like any old family outing. Paris was really happy to be with her grandmother and Kingston was really pleased to be with his daddy in daddy's big truck. Shannon was really glad her mom was a live and well. I felt stupid but really thankful Ryan was there. I realized I was kind of dazed. There was a surreal quality about the accident. I think it mostly had to do with a close brush with death. Even after I realized there was no on coming traffic I still couldn't shake that idea as it harkened back to other near misses. I noticed i was a bit jumpy and traffic seemed more intense. Laura was ecstatic to be with the little ones. She was all lit up and aglow with just being with Shannon. Mother love and family. And I was glad for Ryan. He's got a great sense of humor and it helped as I was quite distracted and increasingly aware I wasn't wholly present. A part of me was already reflecting on the Grace of God and another reminder it wasn't my time yet.
I also felt responsible but knew hindsight is a proctoscope. Still I was going over and over how quickly the whole thing had gone south.
While we were driving back to his place I phoned the ICBC 'dial a claim' and had a very pleasant person take all my details. Laura and Ryan helped answer questions she put to me which I couldn't answer. Laura had kept all the paperwork togther from the police and towing, the two insurance papers and I just read off numbers upon numbers till finally she gave me two claim numbers. I was getting stiff and sore by this time too wondering why my neck and back were feeling so much tension and yet I didn't remember any particular strain.
Though I have a top notch insurance record and had all the insurance possible, there wasn't apparently a rental car available on the labour day holiday. Ryan however phoned around and sure enough Budget had a truck I could use. So off we went leaving Laura with the girls and Kingston. They were having a grand visit with Paris showing Laura all her new back to school clothes and things. Kingston barely toddling was happy to hang out with the girls. Gage, the great dane, was entertaining Gilbert who is hugely impressed with Gage, whose greatest attraction is that he hardly notices Gilbert. Gage is the size of a horse and Gilbert despite jumping up and down and running circles around Gage is well below Gage's dog radar.
In a jiffy I was back at Ryan's picking up Laura, Gilbert and the new pillows and bedding we'd rescued along with our clothing. Good byes, thanks and hugs all round. Gage drooled on Gilbert who took this as big time praise and affection.
Then we were off. Traffic was surprisingly not backed up. "I guess no one else has rolled a trailer ahead of us." I said. We were both a little stunned on the way back.
I'd uploaded pictures to face book while I'd waited and Laura now looked at these delighted with the picture of her and the kids all eating ice cream. Everyone was glad we were okay.
"I really felt like I was in the hands of God and it would all be okay," she said. I felt the same. Faith is such a comfort.
Parking the rental truck, I trudged inside to a hot shower. Next I cancelled work. I was stiff and sore and dazed. "I'm afraid I'm no good to anyone else right now."
Laura laughed. "What do you expect. We've just been in a major car crash and I thought we were going to die."
I was going to live in that trailer along with the boat and now felt sort of 'homeless'.
Gilbert chased the cats and showed no evidence whatsoever of being 'traumatized'.
I loved Ryan saying, "You guys loved the trailer. When you were knocked down in a storm in your boat you didn't give up boating, did you." On the way back Laura and I decided we didn't want to give up trailer camping either.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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