Saturday, July 25, 2009

Damnest thing about shoes

I was walking around South of Houston late last night, that's what they call SoHo ,and it used to be a pretty dumpy area til Yuppies pumped it up. I guess the got tired of living up town because then they made up TriBeCa and that means Triangle Below Canal St. It's what you call a Syllabic Combination, instead of an acronym. It doesn't matter of course because new real estate enclaves explode all over the Burroughs of NYC about as quickly as that evil fresh water Zebra Mussel does what it does to get in the papers. Hell people live up in Harlem and Brooklyn has nice parts. But I wander lower Manhattan because that's where a lot of cool stuff has hit the table since I landed there from jungle Panama in 1947. Like last night, I'm walking near Canal St. setting up a tune and I heard Stevie Wonder blowing "This Could be that start of something good!" on his harmonica. It was Stevland alright and uptight, but he's blowing down some alleyway where I know right off it's not safe to see unless you are a blind man or a hungry dog. I stand there in my thoughts and think about Gary Davis and Rassann Roland and Stevie playing up a number when I hear some white man shoes slapping my way. You can tell a white man walking from the dull rhythm he lays down; It goes slap slap slap slap no brush, no taps and very few cops wear leather soles besides a uniform cop makes more noise than a ball game, with his snarking radio and billy bat and all that harness hitting his gut. Cop's are pockets full of worry so walking on is the smart move. Just walking on. But the shoes are pacing me from behind and suddenly they give a final step that echos in my head like an emerald egg hitting a shallow tin plate full of red tomato soup; a sound I'll not likely hear again but it pierces all the convolutions of unmade and old memories alike and lodges there like a mother's sweet voice or a wise dog's command to kill.
Then I'm back in TriBeCa. This may take a bit to explain: (TO BE CONTINUED IF YOU LIKE) but it's a personal story although Ill attempt to stay on the rosy lane.

Sunday, July 19, 2009


When I first started as a medic for the FD, the ED was typified by "The Big Nurse". Think Julie London on the TV show Emergency, but maybe not so intelligent and more concerned with keeping her power than helping anyone out. I remember working with this one old coot who believed everyone was out to get pain meds. OK. many people are, but when a man comes in with a distended bladder and a urologist tells the nurse to give him 50 Demerol and 25 visteril because he is going to dilate the ureter with a file-a-form set (little probes that screw onto bigger probes) I was assisting the Doc and I knew the guy had not gotten his shot. The Doc did not know it, so he comes in and says all ready? Then he starts ramming these things up the mans penis and the guy just about levitates off the bed. Doc asks me, when he got the injection and I say it's not charted here. Well the Doc goes nuts and finds the nurse who makes up some story about not getting the order. I got to tell you, in all my years I came as close to passing out from psychogenic shock when he screwed the first filo-form prob in and the patient hit the ceiling. Anyway, the guy got the shot and the procedure went well. He voided copious amounts of urine and felt better really fast. I was a part-time EMT/ ER Tech and at the bottom of the pile. It wasn't my job to push the head nurse . I did do some investigation and found out that the patient had told the head nurse that he needed Demerol. Big mistake because. NO ONE EVER TELLS THE BIG NURSE WHAT'S GOING TO GO DOWN. Her chain of action revolves around her and no one else.
These days the head of the emergency department in a large hospital tends to act a lot nicer than Nurse Ratchet and delegates his or her responsibilities in a team effort. Also, I see a lot of nursing friends going into NP. and PA. roles. Still there is a great need for the solid caring RN who can take the punches from the families who use your department as a family clinic and the patient who comes in by EMS with general malaise and suddenly is surrounded be same 40 family members who could not drive the the patient in due to the fact there was no gas. It really is hard to take proper care of people when you know that you are being scammed from every corner, but they are out there and they do it day in and night out. I send big props out to Nurse Barry and the rest of the gang; Julie, Donna, Jay, Glen, David and so many others who used to come out to hear the band and let off some steam. You guys know what you do and how special you are. Give yourselves a kiss or take a pill or have a bit of whatever makes you a little crazy. Tell the judge I said it was OK.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

I ought to write a book about you

That would be you, the people in the USA. How come? Well, I've spent a lot of time studying you at your worst, so I can predict pretty much what will happen when you are confronted with some sort of difficulty. Give you an example? Sure. OK, lets say you are a woman around 22 years old and you have had too much to drink, so you start some shit with your boyfriend while you are leaving
a bar. Now say the BF is too calm, so you decide to show him (and everyone else) by tossing your self from the car while it's still driving slowly around the parking lot. Someone will call an ambulance. When the ambulance gets there, a bunch of drunken women will have gathered around and will be crying hysterically about how much they love you while you lie on the ground like a fish and refuse to answer any one's questions. That's OK because the girls who are crowded around will give all sorts of answers and instructions to the EMS crew who, by this time, will be wishing the car had run over your head and created an interesting case. Now depending on how your Boyfriend is reacting you may cooperate or continue to act like a spoiled child which is a part all drunk people play to perfection regardless of age. I will say that I have seen a few cases where people fell from a speeding car and each one resulted in death or extreme injury. The also either occurred by accident or in one case, a suicidal mental patient managed to get out of a very small window of a van which was transporting her to a serious mental facility. She didn't say so long to the two attendants who were riding up front, so it took them a few minutes to notice. I will just say that the suicidal patient was successful and the mental health transport company was in trouble deep. So there. I'll say that some of you are incredibly brave while others lose it in a second. I've tried to learn by example, but I've noticed that just about every one will fight to stay alive and the tough old coot who says "When my time comes, it comes" will be the first to call when early heart failure comes on. So yeah, I have you number but the fact of the matter is enough of you fit your stereotype that I could write it all down true as tuna fish and no one would print a word. That's too bad because while everyone gets the same illness and injury there are specific scams to the system which are perpetrated by various groups of people, rich and poor alike. I watched it for 30 years and it got to where you could pretty much figure on the rap you would get when the patient was not really sick to the point of needing a mobile ICU to carry their butt to the ER. All they have to do is politely request transport and they will get it, but that never seems to cross any one's mind. Maybe I'll make a list of common excuses given for nonsense calls and let you make your own decisions. Later with that. Cheers and Sorrows...TT

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Humpty Dumpty and Me

I don't exactly remember what made Humpty Dumpty so important that all any one's horses and men would try to reassemble the grouchy egg after he fell from his wall. There are many lessons packed into that verse the main one being no one can last when fate takes hold of the situation; another-more obscure- being to make an omelet you must break some eggs. I do know that the verse was originally a riddle with "Humpty Dumpty" being slang for a rather short and clumsy person. So the rhyme is read and the riddle is, who then is Humpty? The answer is of course an egg since your average clumsy clod would probably manage a wall fall without being broken to bits. I guess my ideas about Humpty's attitude come from Louis Carrol where Alice meets up with the egg in "Through the Looking Glass" and he leads her though a semantic work out which is a real mix up as is just about every thing else in that work and were it not,IMO, for Alice's British up bringing, she would have been driven mad PDQ. Anyway, the whole purpose of this jumble is allow me to state that I fell down and got a concussion, and while I seem to be able to recall some things, I'm totally blank on some others. I have had a concussion before, several in fact, but they were the results daring do while this one was pure old guy falls over. I don't like it one damn bit. I am also sorry for writing a post called F*** It! because there is a certain nice lady on the BG-l who reads what I write and I had no reason to title that post other than I was feeling sorry for my self and not thinking about people who go through life without resorting to casual profanity. Enough on that. I'm going to bed until I am better in the head.