Clinic Update

You remember that clinic where I received shoddy treatment last week? Today was Mrs. Sigboy's turn. She had another allergic reaction at work and had to go visit the clinic. How did she get treated? Poorly, so poorly that I even got an eye roll out of the nurse for pointing out her incompetence. As for the Doctor, I'm getting tired of the attitude when you question the doctor. On the bright side, I am getting over my fear of telling doctors that they are wrong.

I will have full background on this story tomorrow.
/rant

Overstepping Their Bounds

MArooned: Overstepping Their Bounds...

So Jay G talks about a new Massachusetts law where college students can't attempt to know their friends bucolically with the roommate in the room. This story accelerated me down memory lane.

Many moons ago while in the Army, I was stationed at Ft. Myer, Va. I shared a room with a soldier we will call Smith. Late one evening, or early in the morning, I don't recall which, Smith brings his lady friend into the room. I am sleeping soundly as he turns on the lights, the stereo, and proceeds to make as much noise as possible. Obviously, I wake up.

For my non-military readers, a little background is in order. Visitors are not allowed in the barracks after 2200 hours (that's 10 pm). Visitors are to be signed in and out at the front desk. Do I have to say that neither of these conditions were met?

So Smith comes over as I wake up and says "You need to get the fuck out so I can get my grove on." Or something equally cheesy. I look at them both, shes half drunk, make up smeared across her face, her ratty hair is disheveled, and say "I'm, going back to sleep, you two do whatever you want, but I'm not leaving my bed." Needless to say there was no loving in our room that night!

The very next morning, I get called into the commanders office, seems that the young lady had returned to file sexual harassment charges against me. Simply because I wouldn't leave the room that she wasn't supposed to be in so that she could ride the magic stick. The charges were dismissed, of course, but it didn't do anything for me and my roommates friendship. Moral of the story? I think Massachusetts actually has this one right. Nobody wants to be a first hand witness to their roommates drunken attempts to stuff the fish taco.

I should have hit her...

Not hitting my wife led me to the Doctors office. Not hitting my wife put my right arm out of commission for several weeks. Not hitting my wife led to my worst doctor visit ever.

Maybe a little background is in order. Last week we were working in the laundry room. Of course, we had plenty of company, the dog and a small child were underfoot. I swung around unexpectedly and found my elbow about to contact my charming wife's head. A decision was made in a split second that would lead to my downfall. I chose to avoid hitting my wife and I hit the corner of the wall instead. Several days went by and all was well, no pain, no swelling, only a slight bit of discomfort.

Tuesday morning was when it all changed. I woke up to a swollen and inflamed elbow, it was warm to the touch and very tender. I immediately started heating it and starting taking Motrin to keep the swelling down. The week went by with only slight improvement. Friday came along, no swelling, but still tender and it felt that there was a bunch of fluid around the joint. I begrudgingly went to the clinic. After reviewing the dates nobody seemed very impressed with my delay, or my self diagnosis (which was correct by the way). Obviously, the first thing the Doctor ordered was x-rays. My first question was "Why?". I have decided that since I pay for it, I have the right to ask all the questions I want, and to deny tests if the Doctor cannot explain to me why they are neccesary. Little did I realize that this would change the tone for the rest of the visit. She was offended that I even questioned her judgement. She told me that she wanted to check for a break. I told her it wasn't broke. She said I couldn't possibly be smart enough to know that. Well, at least she insinuated it.

When in the room, her body language told me that she didn't want to be there. Her tone confirmed it. There she was, about my age, reasonably unattractive, hair pulled back in a simple pony tail. Her makeup was splotchily applied, foundation poorly covered by powder. I made no judgement, unfortunately,I was the only person in the room with such courtesy. She judged me based upon what I was wearing, my uniform for work. Black pleated pants, and a button down grey shirt, complete with name tags and an ISO 9000 cert patch. I also like to call it suburban camouflage. You don't know who I am, what I have done or even what I do. You are payed to provide a service to me. I expect courtesy to come along with the deal. I do not expect attitude because I dared question your judgement.

The xrays came back and confirmed all of our suspicions, the fluid in the joint was inflamed and causing the discomfort. She offered to drain it, but said that it would probably refill later. She also told me that the xrays showed no sign of gout or any other diseases.

So here is my point. I will not be accepting her services again. Why? Because I payed for a service and was not impressed. What was she looking for in the x-ray? Gout. I did not pay for xrays for her to mislead me so that she could check for gout. She didn't tell me that in the beginning, I would have said no and she wouldn't have gotten the up sale. Luckily, I pay for my own health care and nobody can tell me who I can see and who I can't. I will not be needing her services in the future. Thankfully I live in a Country where I am not told which doctor I have to see and when.

Next time, I'm just going to hit her.

72 hour food kit

My goal was simple. I wanted a 72 hour food kit for a family of four. First, it had to be kid friendly. Second, it had to have a minimum of a one year shelf life. Finally, it had to be easily transportable and inconspicuous.
My first concern was what to use as a container. This would let me know how much space I had to work with. I had thought about backpacks, plastic kitchen containers, metal drums, and even large plastic storage containers. I decided to use a new five gallon plastic bucket with a new lid. The bucket is printed with an Engine oil label. This fulfils my desire for a low profile appearance. Who expects three days worth of food to be in an oil bucket?
My second concern was what to use for food. Anybody could throw rice and beans into a Tupperware container and call it good. I wanted more, planned meals, and food that the kids would eat. Compromises had to be made in regards to meals. I wasn’t just going to pack three days worth of Chef Boy R Dee and Chicken and Stars into the bucket just to appease the children. On the other hand, three days worth of Mountain House meals would not have fit into allotted budget. In the future, I am going to attempt to supplement a two serving mountain house meal with either noodles or rice.
The main meals are:
Roast beef with rice and brown gravy
15 bean soup
Pasole
Chicken with rice
For breakfast we have several choices:
Corned beef and hash
Instant oatmeal
Hash browns with Spam
I had mentioned earlier that I wanted a kid friendly kit. To accomplish this I have added Kool-aid packets. These will keep help encourage them to drink and stay hydrated, not to mention that the sugar will be a morale booster. My kids love Nutrigrain bars, I have added eight of them. I personally believe that they have good nutrition for low weight, and can be considered a fruit serving. Following this logic, I have added two 30 oz cans of Del Monte fruit cocktail. I decided that peanut butter would also go over well, not to mention being calorie and protein rich. I didn’t want to go overboard and only added a small 17 oz jar. In order to make this more palatable for my wife, I added some seasonings. Six chicken and six beef bouillon cubes, a small bottle of salt and pepper, and some crushed pepper.
Originally I had wanted to add plastic utensils and some cheap cook ware. Unfortunately, it would not fit into the fifty dollar budget, or the 5 gallon bucket.
I packaged everything into small zip lock baggies, or vacuum sealed into airtight containers to make the most of all available space. I filled all the crevices between cans with hard candies. To fend off any unforeseen problems, I duck taped a P51 can opener to the lid of the bucket. I also included some iodine tablets to aid in water purification. Several assorted plastic bags and a box of matches rounded out our kit.
The one thing that I learned from this project was that some serious compromises had to be made in regards to space and shelf life. Three days worth of food uses up more room than you might think, especially when you are making an attempt to appease your children. This project was centered around a five gallon bucket, its low profile appearance, and ability to be sealed.
This kit has limitations, all of them do. I do not suggest that this be your only source of food storage. Without a ready supply of water, this kit will fail. Without a heat source, or a pot to cook in, this kit will fail. However, assuming that these two conditions are met, you should be able to eat, and eat well, for at least three days.

New Blog

Have you ever met someone and it seems that you have been friends forever? I actually have a few of those friends, almost as if we knew each other in the preexistence. One of those people I just recently met. He goes by Deschain and recently started a blog. It's a little crass, a little vulgar. I wouldn't hold that against him as he was raised in a liberal Canadian household. Sorry, I misspoke, a liberal French Canadian household. It's a blog about his newly discovered disdain for the liberal system. His moral awakening to the fact that man is supposed to be responsible for his own decisions and well being, regardless of what society tells you.

Go visit.

One final thing, he has a deep disdain for AR's and loves FAL's.
That you can hold against him.

Don't Shoot the Hostage!

Tbolt had a post about hostage targets.He also wondered why anybody in their right mind would want to take this shot. In a previous life, I thought about this shot alot, and I always mentally prepared myself for taking it.

Back when the shooting range was my back yard, I used to practice this shot. I would walk purposefully around the corner of my barn, draw my pistol and shoot the bad guy (in the head) at about ten yards. Average time was about 1.5 seconds.

Do not misunderstand me, I NEVER want to take this shot for real, but I WILL. I have trained for it, I know that I can do it. I will take this shot to protect someone that I care for, friends and family alike. If I consider it to be my responsibility to protect you, I will take this shot for you.

Another Lifetime, Part 1.

The desert air was still as I watched the full moon rise thru the windshield of my patrol car. The road in front of me was barren as I sat parked behind a Juniper bush, I was absently filling out a report from the last call. A red Honda Civic drove past, a small part of my subconscious tugged at me as I eased the cruiser out onto the road. I followed unassumingly behind them as I called the license into dispatch. It was no surprise when the car came back as stolen. The suspect was wanted for a list of other crimes. He was a white male, early thirties, 5'8", muscular build, blond hair, flat top. Think white supremacist without the tattoo's.

I turned on the red and blues, the little Honda in front of me lit up by the strobe lights like a psychotic chase scene in a bad zombie movie. Almost predictably, the chase was on, the little car attempted to speed away, it's acceleration was no match for the big V8 in my cruiser and I easily kept pace as I called for backup and started calling streets and directions into the microphone. The siren wailed into the broken stillness of the night as the chase started to head back into town. I knew that the danger was going to increase as more innocent lives came into the risk that this chase was creating.


Suddenly the car came to a halt and I saw the suspect flee on foot out of the passenger side of the vehicle. Across the desert he ran. I quickly bailed out of the cruiser and pursued him. I knew, or perhaps hoped, that backup was close behind. I kept calling my location into the radio; I now had a choice to make, flashlight or pistol? This choice would prove to be the most important out of all made that night. I chose to draw my pistol as I pursued him. I dodged cactus and creosote bushes as I started to close the distance. He had made a mistake when he chose to run from me. I loved to run, and I really loved chasing bad guys. My lungs were starting to find a rhythm as my belt and vest sought to slow me down. Not tonight, tonight my only goal was too put my cuffs on this guy. Soon we would be crossing another road and I started coordinating the backup on that road. I heard the sirens in the distance and knew that I would not be alone for long. I continued shouting commands at the subject.

"Stop, police!" But these commands were to no avail. I saw the road, 50 yards ahead, I saw headlights, but no flashing lights. I put on a final burst of speed as I caught up to my suspect. I shoved my pistol into his holster as we hit the edge of the road. I reached out and grabbed his arm as we collided with the vehicle. I remember putting him into an arm bar as we slid onto the hood and the car started to pull away. I briefly noticed the red paint as I went for a rear wrist lock. The move failed and we continued to fight on the hood of the car. The vehicle made a sudden turn and I rolled on the hood, the suspects arm was torn out of my grasp by the force as I lost my balance and fell of the hood, my body bouncing down the side of the car.

I felt my pistol hit the car and get hooked on something. I remember the distinct clatter it made when it hit the ground. Decision time again, secure my weapon or chase down the suspect? I looked up at the car and saw that it was the one I had chased earlier. I saw the suspect climb in thru an open window. It was crunch time.

What do you do? A choice has to be made here. What is yours?
Part 2 will published on Wednesday, when you will discover what I did.