Eight Feet Deep

Gee Dubya, not content having himself surrounded by soldiers in photos, goes after the next generation of American fighting men and women.

Another blue ribbon panel. That is the answer — be it from Republicans or Democrats. When something goes wrong, appoint a blue ribbon panel. Which is what our Buffoon-in-chief has done in response to the uproar over poor medical facilities and treatment of our Iraq veterans.

The last blue ribbon panel — a.k.a. the Iraq Study Group — which was chaired by James Baker and Lee Hamilton was really a worthwhile venture wasn’t it George? Now a new panel headed by Bob “Viagra” Dole and Donna “Sha-la-la” Shalala will take on the task of studying veterans health care in both Department of Defense and Department of Veterans Affairs medical facilities. Good luck and good night!

Studying hospitals and clinics in just one department would surely be a nightmare, but both of them? Please give me a break.

Dole is an honorable man, a war hero and has tried to do right on a number of issues. Shalala? I’m sure she did some good in her cabinet post under Clinton and most likely her family and friends love her. But rarely does a presidentially-appointed blue ribbon panel cut through all the red tape to separate the wheat from chaff and the semaphores from the metaphors. And talk about red tape? Both agencies are full of some of the biggest red tape dispensers known to modern man.

My experience with VA health care is more recent than that with DoD. The quality of that care varies from hospital-to-hospital and VA health care system to VA health care system. Here is a little VA 101 and how its medical system is set up:

The VA has almost two dozen health care networks called VISNs (pronounced “vision,” as in lack of). VISN means Veterans Integrated Service Network. VA health care in Texas is provided by more than one VISN. The one in Southeast Texas includes Louisiana and I think Mississippi VA hospitals. Look it up if you are that interested. The VISN I dealt with in Waco and in Dallas includes health care systems (the next level of bureaucracy)in North, Central and South Texas. Within each system are hospitals and clinics.

Now one would think that the VA is the VA. With each hospital and clinic you get the same type of medical care and certainly the same kind of medicine, right? Not right. Each health care system has its own quirks, rules and even medicines. You had Soma prescribed in Waco? Well, you won’t get it in Houston or Beaumont. You were prescribed Lisinopril in Beaumont? Well, you won’t get it in Dallas.

Such a patchwork of medicine delivery is just one of the major obstacles such an investigatory panel faces. Each medical facility will also prove to be a big chunk which has been torn off and cannot be chewed.

When I last left Beaumont, the VA Clinic here was, quite frankly, quite awful. It was hard to get appointments, to get doctors to return your calls about medicine, etc., etc. Then I moved to Dallas for awhile. Once called the worst VA hospital in the country, I’m sure the Dallas VA Hospital is still in the running for that title. So many problems there exist that Bob Dole would probably enter it for investigation in good health and leave under the sheets. One example:

One day I had a medical condition of which I was unsure was an emergency and whet her it required immediate care. I was living in Allen then, about 40 miles from the Dallas VA hospital. Fortunately, my condition didn’t require emergency care. But no thanks to the VA either way. I spent an hour on its so-called “Tele-care” phone line where a nurse can be consulted about medical issues, supposedly. After an hour of getting no answer on the Tele-care line or recordings at the Dallas hospital, I finally asked for the hospital director’s office. I told the secretary what was going on and she promised to transfer me to the appropriate place right away. Which she didn’t that time. But once I called her back, I finally got the head nurse. Bless her heart, she did help me and even called to check on me later.

On a positive note, since I have moved back to Beaumont, the VA clinic seems like someone flew in and strafed the facility with a load of positivity. Service there is much better than the last time I used it.

The VA has got some great people and it has some people who aren’t worth a hail of bullets, just as you would expect from any large bureaucracy. The only difference with the VA is that hundreds of thousands of lives are in the hands of this bureaucracy and the system or “systems” need a good going over. The VA also is in need of dedicated funding rather than by discretionary funds at the whim of Congress. And, we need to get our men and women out of Iraq as soon as possible so we don’t have so many new veterans to treat. Things are bad enough with dying World War II, Korean and Vietnam veterans.

If the blue ribbon panel is really going to do a fine-tooth-comb job on the military and VA health care, then I say: “Right on!” But history just isn’t on Bob’s and Donna’s side, and I just don’t think they will ever find a big enough comb.

I just finished writing something rather lengthy and then, the computer froze, causing me to reboot and lose what I had written. Did I ever mention that I hated the computers at the Beaumont Public Library?

“I was WHERE last night? Photo by peachyqueen via Morguefile.com

Here I am after another substantial Friday morning breakfast at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church of Beaumont, Texas, for the street and/or needy folks. I have been agnostic for quite sometime and remain so but going to these feeds at religious institutions for those like myself who are down on their luck kind of brightens my day. I see people who seem genuinely happy helping others and it takes a little of the focus off my worries and feeling sorry for myself. That is, for a little while at least.

This week I went for the first time to the regular inner-city ministry held at 6:15 p.m. Wednesdays at the First Baptist Church of Beaumont. It was a great feed for the needy and featured a swarm of people who were there — old and young — to greet you like a long-lost uncle or aunt. There was also some of the old-time “go God beat ol’ Scratch” type preaching which used to annoy me so much when I went to the Baptist church as a child. I sort of finding it entertaining now and, although I’m still agnostic, I believe that if that type of message helps someone or gives them comfort, well so be it, more power to it, let’s dance! Oops. I don’t suppose I should mention dancing and Baptist in the same paragraph. I will provide an off-color Baptist joke from my young years of going to churches of that affiliation:

Q: Do you know why Baptists won’t do the dirty deed while standing up?
A: They’re afraid it will lead to dancing.

I’m sorry if that offends anyone. Not really.

Today or perhaps Monday I should be hearing about a job for which I applied. I also found a part-time job that had a really kick-ass hourly wage range for which I also applied. The only problem was I found the job while in the Texas Workforce Commission about two hours before the offices closed and the job announcement, for a federal job, closed at midnight the next a.m. So, I don’t know if I am sh*t-out-of-luck, s*it-on-a-shingle, or sh*t and Shinola as to my chances for that position.

I hope to be here next week and will accordingly keep those of you who give a sh*t informed.

Yours,
EFD for President in ’08
“A pot in every chicken and a garage in every car”

A NASA engineer attempts to tether his restless leg at zero gravity which will ultimately result in a state of near continuous spin cycle followed by a cool-down before drying and pressing.

Last night I suffered from restless leg syndrome (RLS). It is a condition people didn’t have until those aggravating commercials for the medicine Requip began running on television. That is likely untrue but RLS does happen to a lot of people including me, very infrequently, and some of my friends as well.

The symptoms are varied, or are at least have a wide-ranging description by those who suffer from RLS. Some describe it as tugging, creeping, or like insects crawling. I can’t really define it other to say what I feel is a very odd and unpleasant feeling in my legs during sleep in which your legs feel they are unsatisfied being in their present state. It seems as if the only way to help ease these symptoms are to get up and walk around for awhile. It’s a leg jones for movement, it seems. RLS is not fun anytime but especially not comfortable when you are sleeping inside your pickup trucks, as I do these days.

Variations occur as well as to the number of times one may get RLS. Equip ads say you should ask your doctor about Equip if you have RLS more than 15 times per month. If I had RLS 15 times per month I would probably walk around constantly in a somnambular state like something from “Night of the Living .”

About three or four times I had to get out of the truck and walk around and finally about 4 a.m., I could safely take another Atavan and it knocked me out. Goodbye Mr. RLS, until next time.

As is the case in medicine quite often, — ever hear of “practicing physicians?” — the cause of RLS is not always clear. According to the National Institute of Health fact sheet above, the causes could be anemia, kidney failure, diabetes or Parkinson’s. The latter affliction continues to cause me concern as my hands have been continually shaking for almost a year without any clear diagnosis. I talked with someone at the Houston VA Hospital’s Parkinson’s Clinic today and she was making me an appointment. I certainly hope it isn’t Parkinson’s causing my shaking, dizziness, stumbling and other weird signs and symptoms I have been experiencing lately. I guess I’ll eventually find out one way or the other. Just like I will eventually find a job or die trying.

This afternoon I get to visit my physician at the local VA clinic. Since beginning methadone for pain, I must see the doctor once a month for a prescription since the cannot be refilled and shipped out like other meds. Oh, no fun can be had greater than going to the VA clinic and/or hospital. I’m just being sarcastic. Please excuse me while I go stretch my restless legs.

I’d like to thank my producer and my director and all the “little” people … Amazingly enough I watched a sufficient amount of the Academy Awards last evening. It was sufficent enough to ask myself why? Why do I ever watch such lunacy. I didn’t watch any of the presentations but I sat through what seemed like the entire geological timetable as Oscar nominees or those who had something to do with the movie business uttered some complete nonsense. Then I saw a little of the monologue by host Ellen DeGeneres. She is a good comedienne but whomever wrote her material should be subjected to a video in a locked room of last night’s Oscars, over and over and over. You say you want cruel and unusual punishment??

Those of you, the two or three of you, who follow this blog on a semi-regular basis may wonder how this person who lives in his truck managed to watch the Oscars? Does he have a teevee in his truck now? Well actually, no, but it isn’t a bad idea. In reality, I was cat-sitting this weekend for my friend Sarah who was out of town. Mango, the cat, doesn’t really need sitting unless you fear that your cat will sleep itself to the hereafter. But I enjoyed the weekend of quiet and life as lived by those who have a roof over their heads. It really helped recharge the old batteries and gave my d spine a chance to straighten itself out.

For lunch, I ran into a fellow homeless chum and we had lunch at Mount Gilead Baptist Church in Beaumont. It was just super — Fried pork chops, rice and navy beans, corn bread and mustard greens. Ah, is this living or what? Thanks to those folks there who help the needy eat in a very satisfying manner.