The Conservative Cave
The Bar => The Lounge => Topic started by: asdf2231 on August 23, 2008, 11:51:16 AM
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Today is the 1st annual Hamstring A Gnome Day!
I am on call and nailed down to my imediate area like a frog on a board.
Kids are enjoying downtime today, Mom is in Milwaukee on a ladies business trip stuffing singles into G-Strings, dancing on bar tops and hitting spas.
Whats by you today?
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I got the last of my school books in the mail.
The one for my dealership class is "Introduction to Dealership Computer Systems" and it's all based on the Reynolds system. I use Reynolds at work already. :-) So I think this will be an easy part of the course.
Our receptionist didn't show up today :whatever: so I'm here answering phones until 6.
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A class like that you might have been able to get out of without paying for it. Some schools let you test out of classes you already have experience in.
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A class like that you might have been able to get out of without paying for it. Some schools let you test out of classes you already have experience in.
Not this one. I'm testing out of a few classes already. :)
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As I said in my other post, first football game was today...we spent the morning there. Then my older son was SUPPOSED to have a baseball game at the same ballpark this afternoon, but found out (after we get back over there) that they changed the game to yesterday, but never bothered to call us to tell us :banghead: :hammer:. SO we went up to the football field and watched another couple hours of football games.
Now we are getting ready to make some chicken and baked potatos for dinner.
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I dunno.
It's a nice day in the Sandhills of Nebraska, the cats romping and frollicking all over the place.
I haven't gotten the photographs back from the town librarian, of which many are pictures of this paradise for cats; she was supposed to scan them and e-mail them, but I noticed when I was there on Thursday, she was really busy. So maybe they'll be done on Monday. Anyway, one can see, from these pictures, why this place is a paradise for cats.
I also got a scanner/printer/copier in the mail on Thursday, but haven't set it up yet, as I want to first do some heavy-duty cleaning in the dining room (I clean some areas so that it's so clean it doesn't need cleaning for another six months). I'll probably do that early in the week.
Other than that, I still have a hole in my head. Dry ice works great at removing things, but I guess one is supposed to unapply the dry ice before it stingingly hurts, not until after it stingingly hurts. It's a pretty deep hole, clear to the bone, but no signs of infection or anything.
Just an average pre-college-football Saturday here, in the Sandhills.
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I'm packing for my ladies business meeting :-)
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I'm packing for my ladies business meeting :-)
You're not one of those red-hat women, are you?
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This isn't a "day thread" is it?
Of course not. :tongue:
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This isn't a "day thread" is it?
You see some queerbate patchouli stink TOTD anywhere? :uhsure: :cheersmate: :innocent:
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I dunno.
It's a nice day in the Sandhills of Nebraska, the cats romping and frollicking all over the place.
I haven't gotten the photographs back from the town librarian, of which many are pictures of this paradise for cats; she was supposed to scan them and e-mail them, but I noticed when I was there on Thursday, she was really busy. So maybe they'll be done on Monday. Anyway, one can see, from these pictures, why this place is a paradise for cats.
I also got a scanner/printer/copier in the mail on Thursday, but haven't set it up yet, as I want to first do some heavy-duty cleaning in the dining room (I clean some areas so that it's so clean it doesn't need cleaning for another six months). I'll probably do that early in the week.
Other than that, I still have a hole in my head. Dry ice works great at removing things, but I guess one is supposed to unapply the dry ice before it stingingly hurts, not until after it stingingly hurts. It's a pretty deep hole, clear to the bone, but no signs of infection or anything.
Just an average pre-college-football Saturday here, in the Sandhills.
WTF Frank!
Seriously go see a doc!!
You get a surface bone infection and it will go systemic and frigging kill you in a blink.
And how the hell did you get a hole in your head down to the bone?
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WTF Frank!
Seriously go see a doc!!
You get a surface bone infection and it will go systemic and frigging kill you in a blink.
And how the hell did you get a hole in your head down to the bone?
It's no biggie, an irritant more than anything else.
What I did, I wouldn't have done if I hadn't already been scheduled for mole removal on Monday already.
But since I was scheduled, I figured I would try something.
Diabetics learn how to shoot themselves; why can't I learn how to remove skin growths, rather than paying $85 each time to have them removed by a physician using frozen nitrogen? Also, winter's coming, and I don't like driving 80 or 100 miles (one-way) on icy roads.
I do have self-paid medical insurance, but it's a high deductible, and never gets anywhere near that amount any given year.
So I applied dry ice to a certain growth on the upper right cheek, where the layer of skin is the thinnest.
I applied it the same way I've always noticed the physician or a registered nurse applying frozen nitrogen, but apparently I applied too hard and too long. It didn't look like it was working, but it was. Hence the overapplication. One lives and learns.
If something about it looked out of order, of course I would hop into the motor vehicle and drive to the big city, but it's been more than a day now, and looks ordinary, no problems. As I assured earlier, if I wasn't seeing a physician on Monday anyway, I wouldn't have done it.
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I'm packing for my ladies business meeting :-)
You're not one of those red-hat women, are you?
:censored: :bird: :censored:
I'm packing the tight, short black dress
you just took yourself off the recipient list for pictures bucko
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you just took yourself off the recipient list for pictures bucko
Oh now, you know, when I was in Walgreen's in the big city on Thursday, I spotted their assortment of picture-frames, and saw one which made me immediately think, "Damn, that would be a great frame for a picture of Morning Angel....."
Really. I did.
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It's no biggie, an irritant more than anything else.
What I did, I wouldn't have done if I hadn't already been scheduled for mole removal on Monday already.
But since I was scheduled, I figured I would try something.
Diabetics learn how to shoot themselves; why can't I learn how to remove skin growths, rather than paying $85 each time to have them removed by a physician using frozen nitrogen? Also, winter's coming, and I don't like driving 80 or 100 miles (one-way) on icy roads.
I do have self-paid medical insurance, but it's a high deductible, and never gets anywhere near that amount any given year.
So I applied dry ice to a certain growth on the upper right cheek, where the layer of skin is the thinnest.
I applied it the same way I've always noticed the physician or a registered nurse applying frozen nitrogen, but apparently I applied too hard and too long. It didn't look like it was working, but it was. Hence the overapplication. One lives and learns.
If something about it looked out of order, of course I would hop into the motor vehicle and drive to the big city, but it's been more than a day now, and looks ordinary, no problems. As I assured earlier, if I wasn't seeing a physician on Monday anyway, I wouldn't have done it.
You have in fact Sir earned the Gigantic Brass Clankies award.
Holy Catz.
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you just took yourself off the recipient list for pictures bucko
Oh now, you know, when I was in Walgreen's in the big city on Thursday, I spotted their assortment of picture-frames, and saw one which made me immediately think, "Damn, that would be a great frame for a picture of Morning Angel....."
Really. I did.
well then its just too bad you made the fatal blunder of associating me with a group of women that the required membership is being over the age of 60
now you have the perfect frame and no picture to put it in
I hope this has taught you the error of your ways!
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you just took yourself off the recipient list for pictures bucko
Oh now, you know, when I was in Walgreen's in the big city on Thursday, I spotted their assortment of picture-frames, and saw one which made me immediately think, "Damn, that would be a great frame for a picture of Morning Angel....."
Really. I did.
well then its just too bad you made the fatal blunder of associating me with a group of women that the required membership is being over the age of 60
now you have the perfect frame and no picture to put it in
I hope this has taught you the error of your ways!
You have to be 50, not 60, to join the Red Hat Ladies. I know my good friend is a member and she's only 55. :)
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You have in fact Sir earned the Gigantic Brass Clankies award.
Holy Catz.
It's not really as it might seem, sir.
I take calculated risks with myself all the time every day, the "calculation" including, "Okay, if something goes wrong, do I have a back-up plan to make it right?'--in this case, the already-scheduled appointment on Monday.
If there hadn't already been an appointment sometime soon, I never would have done it.
I know this is an iconoclastic view in contemporary society, but far far far far too much is made of medical skills possessed by medical professionals, and far far far far too little made of medical skills possessed by laymen.
Morning Angel here is an R.N.; I don't know about anybody else, but from what I've ever seen in my life, I would trust Morning Angel with just about every medical procedure excepting brain surgery.....which is to say, I would trust her to be competent in 99.9% of all those things people usually leave for M.D.s to do.
She's skilled way beyond her recognition, and skilled way beyond what professional conduct allows her to do.
When I was 10 years old, one time I crawled over a barbed-wire fence, puncturing the inner upper left thigh; two days later, I had a purple-and-black spot nearly twice the size of an old silver dollar; I had obviously gotten infected. The parents were away at some convention in either Chicago or Kansas City or somewhere, and I didn't want to get yelled at by an older brother or sister. Of course the hospital was nearby, but all the local physicians were at some sort of meeting in Omaha that weekend, meaning the nearest physician was.....75 miles away until the following Sunday evening.
I went to a neighbor, a retired veterinarian, who lived about a mile and a half away. Upon evaluating the situation, and of course knowing more than I that everybody was gone, he took some sort of glass prick and poked a hole in it. I had never been aware of the eruptive volcanic qualities of pus and blood, or that the thigh of an undersized 10-year-old could hold so much.
By the time the weekend was over, and the parents and physicians back in town, it was all over, healing.
Now, if I had a wife and children, if something was wrong, I'd panic and send them to a physician. Hell, when something goes wrong with any of the cats here, right away they go to the appropriate medical personnel.
But this is just me, and I appear to have a pretty good idea of my limits.
There was a story in the Omaha World-Herald about me, in the 1980s, about the time I hired a Greek plumber to pull out my four wisdom teeth. I had seen a dentist, who took x-rays and all that, and showed me how it was going to be an easy and quick job, given that the roots of the teeth grew straight down (rather than curling around the jawbone), and so they'd pop right out. He wanted $160 to do it, but as I didn't have $160, I promised to have it taken care of when I did have $160.
Some months and several thousand miles away, the wisdom teeth began bothering me big-time (for the record, the only dental problem I've ever had). I learned of a local plumber who was skilled in such things, and for $25, all four teeth were yanked.
I would NOT have done that if I hadn't already been aware of the situation revealed by dental x-rays, nor do I recommend anybody else do it, even if the x-rays show the same thing. I may seem stupid, but I think my life proves I'm really not. When I returned to Lincoln (Nebraska) some months later, and had the usual routine standard teeth-cleaning, the dentist noticed the absence of the wisdom teeth, and said it had been a good job, a really good job, whoever had done it (he learned who did it by reading the Omaha World-Herald some time later).
The morning of January 20, 1993, about the same time certain things were happening in Washington, D.C., while walking out of a coin-and-stamp store, I slipped on ice and crashed down onto the sidewalk, utterly destroying my right elbow. It was shattered to pieces, none of them larger than a wooden matchstick. The whole thing.
Well, that was attended to by appropriate medical personnel, and then so as to gain "at least 40%" of the use of the "elbow" (in quotation marks because now it's mostly metal), I was assigned to "physical therapy." After the second bout of "physical therapy," it all seemed so stupidly nonsensical to me. Insurance of course was paying for it, but all I was ever getting was warm baths and massages, and besides, it cut a considerable part out of the day, doing this. It was a ****ing nuisance.
With the approval of the M.D., I stopped this, and instead began walking around with an empty briefcase, so as to encourage the arm to bend. After a while, I walked around with a brick inside the briefcase.....and then two bricks.....and then three bricks.....and then four bricks.....and then five bricks.
It had been thought I could never have "more than 40%" use of the arm any more; by that autumn, nine months after the Impeached One had been first inaugurated, and I was on my way to explore the socialist paradises of the workers and peasants with free medical care for all....I could do anything I wished to do, with the right arm.
That would have never happened with "professional physical therapy," where all one was given was stupid warm baths and stupid light massages.
Again, I wouldn't advise anyone else to do many of the things I've done, but really, as I'm me, I know my limits, and quite frankly, there are a great many medical things that can be done without medical professionals.....and their fees.
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you just took yourself off the recipient list for pictures bucko
Oh now, you know, when I was in Walgreen's in the big city on Thursday, I spotted their assortment of picture-frames, and saw one which made me immediately think, "Damn, that would be a great frame for a picture of Morning Angel....."
Really. I did.
well then its just too bad you made the fatal blunder of associating me with a group of women that the required membership is being over the age of 60
now you have the perfect frame and no picture to put it in
I hope this has taught you the error of your ways!
You have to be 50, not 60, to join the Red Hat Ladies. I know my good friend is a member and she's only 55. :)
nice attempt to save Frank from my wrath....
but 50 is still not a good number to throw at me
good lord people...do I need to get a new profile pic?
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nice attempt to save Frank from my wrath....
but 50 is still not a good number to throw at me
good lord people...do I need to get a new profile pic?
Really, I had no idea there was an age limit.
There's red hat women around here too, but I never noticed any particular demographic about them.
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nice attempt to save Frank from my wrath....
but 50 is still not a good number to throw at me
good lord people...do I need to get a new profile pic?
Really, I had no idea there was an age limit.
There's red hat women around here too, but I never noticed any particular demographic about them.
you didn't notice support hose, orthopedic shoes, flappy upper arms wrinkles and grey hair?
either you are the perfect man who is able to actually relate to a personality
or you are blind as a bad Frank and I'm worried about you
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you didn't notice support hose, orthopedic shoes, flappy upper arms wrinkles and grey hair?
either you are the perfect man who is able to actually relate to a personality
or you are blind as a bad Frank and I'm worried about you
Well, I dunno.
Maybe women in Nebraska age more slowly than women elsewhere.
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nice attempt to save Frank from my wrath....
but 50 is still not a good number to throw at me
good lord people...do I need to get a new profile pic?
Really, I had no idea there was an age limit.
There's red hat women around here too, but I never noticed any particular demographic about them.
you didn't notice support hose, orthopedic shoes, flappy upper arms wrinkles and grey hair?
either you are the perfect man who is able to actually relate to a personality
or you are blind as a bad Frank and I'm worried about you
Don't you let the bad man hurt you, baby! I'll still try to get you drunk,naked, and **** the hell out of ya.
:-)
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nice attempt to save Frank from my wrath....
but 50 is still not a good number to throw at me
good lord people...do I need to get a new profile pic?
Really, I had no idea there was an age limit.
There's red hat women around here too, but I never noticed any particular demographic about them.
you didn't notice support hose, orthopedic shoes, flappy upper arms wrinkles and grey hair?
either you are the perfect man who is able to actually relate to a personality
or you are blind as a bad Frank and I'm worried about you
Don't you let the bad man hurt you, baby! I'll still try to get you drunk,naked, and **** the hell out of ya.
:-)
sending my cell phone number now... I start drinking Patron at 3 pm tomorrow and I have a suite on the shores of Lake Tahoe.... :naughty:
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nice attempt to save Frank from my wrath....
but 50 is still not a good number to throw at me
good lord people...do I need to get a new profile pic?
Really, I had no idea there was an age limit.
There's red hat women around here too, but I never noticed any particular demographic about them.
you didn't notice support hose, orthopedic shoes, flappy upper arms wrinkles and grey hair?
either you are the perfect man who is able to actually relate to a personality
or you are blind as a bad Frank and I'm worried about you
Don't you let the bad man hurt you, baby! I'll still try to get you drunk,naked, and **** the hell out of ya.
:-)
sending my cell phone number now... I start drinking Patron at 3 pm tomorrow and I have a suite on the shores of Lake Tahoe.... :naughty:
If I am delayed just start without me. I'll catch up!
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I know this is an iconoclastic view in contemporary society, but far far far far too much is made of medical skills possessed by medical professionals, and far far far far too little made of medical skills possessed by laymen.
Just a few weeks ago I preformed outpatient surgery on my own infected finger. I must admit, it turned out perfect and saved me a few bucks.
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Just a few weeks ago I preformed outpatient surgery on my own infected finger. I must admit, it turned out perfect and saved me a few bucks.
Well, Rob, sir, you're no primitive on taxpayer-paid medical assistance.
I have known, in real life, primitives rushing to a hospital emergency room for things such as this, and I suspect a good many of the primitives on Skins's island have done likewise.
I'm not slamming the practice of medicine, a truly difficult and much-needed thing; I am however slamming this popular notion that ONLY physicians can handle things that I've observed averagely competent people can do.
And I've always been particularly skeptical of--sometimes even hostile to--medical professionals who suggest a pill will solve a problem. First-hand, up close, observation of the family, that sort of thing.
When I had that woman's problem about three years ago, I was prescribed penicillin and a pain-killer (that damned Percoset). Well, a pain-killer doesn't solve a problem, and perhaps even prolongs it. I had the prescription for penicillin--which solves a problem--filled (at Walgreen's in the big city), but threw away the other one. Penicillin took care of the problem; the pain-killer would've just covered it up.
This is based upon an experience I had as a freshman in college, and for the only time in my life suddenly got afflicted with ballooning blood-vessels at the end of the alimentary canal. I went to the student health center, where I was instructed to use certain creams and suppositories and given a prescription for some pills.
I endured this all summer long; not a pleasant experience for a kid just starting college (I started college in the summer, not the autumn). I was examined so many times that summer (being 12 weeks, I imagine, probably 6 or 8 times) I lost all inhibitions about pulling down the pants and bending over. It's not an experience I've had since that one summer so long ago, but I suspect to this day, if I had to, I could still pull down the pants and bend over with sheer ease and grace and nonchalance.
I was always given prescriptions; they alternated between some sort of really tiny pill, a "controlled substance," and some sort of really big pill (Darvon, if the memory serves me correctly). The roommates used to comment and make jokes about my going to the medicine chest, and coming back from the medicine chest, but as I can't hear, all I know is that they were comments and jokes, but not what they were.
Towards the end of that summer, I got really desperate--I was a college kid, and I wanted to have some fun, but couldn't--and so went back to the remote Sandhills town whence I had come, to see the old family physician. Upon learning of the problem, the physician instructed me to drop the pants, bend over, and he would take a look.
He took a look, and then took a long slender glass rod with something on it (silver nitrate or nitric acid or something like that), and jammed it in there.
Problem immediately solved, and apparently permanently solved; I have never since been bothered by such a thing, and one has to remember two long stints of being a desk-sitting governmental bureaucrat, which breeds these things. Never, not once. And that was a long time ago, when this was done.
In fact, since Sigmund Freud proved so long ago that circa 80% of all neuroses and psychoses are based upon poor bowel management (the other 20% based upon faulty female or faulty male plumbage), I have been wholly and enthusiastically--even if it eats up taxpayer dollars--of a massive public health program, like the innoculations of yore, a mass haemerrhoidectomy for primitives.
Line all 5,000 of them up--maybe all of them aren't haemerrhoid-prone, but most of them seem to be, and of the ones who aren't, well, it won't do them any harm--have all of them drop their pants, bend over, stretch, and a physician walking down the line, carefully inserting this glass rod with silver nitrate or nitric acid or whatever.
It improved my life and outlook considerably, making me a better person, and so I imagine it would do that for some, if not all, of the primitives too.
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Just a few weeks ago I preformed outpatient surgery on my own infected finger. I must admit, it turned out perfect and saved me a few bucks.
Well, Rob, sir, you're no primitive on taxpayer-paid medical assistance.
I have known, in real life, primitives rushing to a hospital emergency room for things such as this, and I suspect a good many of the primitives on Skins's island have done likewise.
I honestly think we would have alot less doctor offices and pharmacies if there was no taxpayer paid medical plans.
Primitives don't get out of bed early enough to make it to the doctor during business hours so they have to use the E-room!!! :-)
When will they come up with a pill that will make those able to work find a job?
Doctors need to start writing 'scripts for things called GEDs and Resumes!