Comments on life, the universe and everything from an aging Sixties survivor.

Location: Massachusetts, United States

Ummm, isn't "about me" part of the point of the blog?

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Happy New Year, Duuude!

Disclaimer: we all know that no reader of this blog would ever consider abusing controlled substances or alcohol. This is just an interesting clinical observation.

The Beast is more or less under control, thanks to getting a green light for a large increase in my Klonopin intake.

One should, of course, avoid or at least contain one's alcohol consumption whilst on Klonopin, to avoid very intense results. I've also noted how important timing is with taking this stuff. If one tries to be macho and heroic and wait out a TN onset, then the accepted dose does nothing. However, if one takes it on an empty stomach and immediately upon onset of the pain, the dosage kills the TN and often brings on that navel-gazing stage so often associated with abuse of these little yellow pills. At home, this is just fine. At work, it can lead to some odd results.

Pity the effect isn't more predictable.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Hey, Betty Jean, We's OK after all!

There are several things about this link that cause me to think. One of them is that it was Canadian research that concluded it was OK to marry your cousin.

The other is the recollection of a couple of distinctly subnormal families in the town where I grew up in which intimate relations, if not marriage, between relations were the rule rather than the exception. Now granted, there was nobody filming things. Perhaps the collectively low IQ resulted from closer degrees of consanguinity than first cousins. Members of one of the families, which boasted 27 offspring, admitted they weren't quite sure who was the parent of whom.

The music halls had it right a long while back with "I'm my own grandpa." I think this hypothesis might need further study.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Ur doin it rong

Today is December 13, and It's a Wonderful Life is already on TV.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Privileged classes

In this day of politial correctness, I've noticed that female health care workers remain the one group who can call total strangers "hun" with complete social impunity: especially when the stranger is an older male with a needle in his arm.

I vaguely recall this on the day of my surgery, but I was too stoned to confirm it. Today, whilst giving blood, I was wide awake. And charmed.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Too tired...

There really must be a gag line in the toxic Irish pork story,but it's eluding me.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

More proof of the death of language

Don't get me wrong. The disorder described here, and any manifestation of it, is very troubling.One just wishes that the author and reviewer weren't amongst those people overly dependent upon computer spell check devices:

By Charlene Laino
WebMD Health News

Reviewed by Louise Chang, MD

Dec. 3, 2008 (Chicago) -- The angst of adolescence has propelled disturbed teens to graduate from self-cutting to a more severe form of self-injury in which they literally jam paper clips, stables, pencil lead, and other objects into their body, researchers say.

Yes, I would imagine it hurts to jam a stable into your body. The horses must kick something wicked.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

A new day?

Over the weekend I was reading that the election of Barack Obama signals a new day for millions of Americans with "unAmerican" names. Speaking as one of them, I rather hope so. I found myself in a meeting today with a woman whose name is equally "unAmerican. " We shared a moment of ironic eye contact, hoping briefly that it might be true, before settling down to business.

It would be nice to have a lifetime of great and small indignities begin to evaporate with this inauguration. That lifetime inspires me to skepticism. I hope it happens, but I'm afraid it won't. We shall see.

Bad Lessons

I spent the return trip from Thanksgiving dinner in an unpleasant posture in the back of the Scion, apart from the stop where I left my dinner: all courtesy of my neurological companion.

Since then, something I've been expecting has happened. My body is slowly refusing to eat. I eat my English muffin breakfast and spend the rest of the daylight hours just queasy enough to have almost no interest in food. Lunch today was a cup of hot chocolate, supper an eggos omelet with a sprinkle of low fat feta.

The body learns faster than the intellect, even if the lessons aren't always right. If eating triggers neuralgia, then according to the body's logic, the thing to do is stop eating.

I have much better stored food reserves than I'd like, so we'll see how long this drama plays out.