The Conservative Cave
Current Events => The DUmpster => Topic started by: BattleHymn on April 16, 2014, 09:37:44 PM
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http://www.democraticunderground.com/10024831646
Wed Apr 16, 2014, 07:41 PM
Star Member CaliforniaPeggy (108,494 posts)
****WCGreen Update --Wednesday April 16, 2014****
From his wife:
Chris is weaning more and more off the vent.
He passed the sip test, so he is on a clear diet, which includes some fruit juices and jello as well as broth and tea. He is still on tube feeding and tolerating it a lot better. They put the tube into his small intestine, bypassing his very sensitive stomach. He also has meds that help the food to move along.
He will probably be moving to a rehab place before the month is out. Hopefully, Grace Hospital, on Fairview Hospital's 6th floor of the old bldg. He was there the last time he was REALLY sick.
I was at the hospital when Physical Therapy was there to work with Chris. I found out that Chris is not very cooperative in PT. Poor baby is often very tired. Since I was there, I encouraged him, and he stood for the first time (with help).
Lots more Calpig at the link.
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How much is this all costing us?
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How much is this all costing us?
Too much. They should have given him some pain pills and sent him home like Obama said.
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How much is this all costing us?
Organ transplant, four months in ICU and counting.
And the useless moonbat ward heeler was brain dead even before the operation.
This boondoggle just goes to prove the jug-eared muslim can't even run a competent death panel.
Hopefully reason will soon prevail and someone will pull the plug on this half-dead DUmmy.
It's Cuyahoga County, so he'll still be allowed to vote.
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Seriously, and this isn't to be construed as anything against the green commode primitive.
He's over sixty-five, right, and has never had an especially productive life, right?
I thought there were rules about organ transplants--rules not made by franksolich--that governed who was worth "saving," and who wasn't. I thought organs available for transplantation were so rare that they were doled out only to those deemed most likely to be contributive members of society.
Much in the same sense that dentists generally don't do major dental work on 90-year-olds.
(For the record, franksolich has long, detailed instructions about what's to be done, an what's not to be done, in life-endangering situations. Among them is "no organ transplants;" not that I have anything against organ transplants, but simply because it's fairer to give them to others younger than me, who haven't yet been gifted by life as I've been.)
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Wed Apr 16, 2014, 07:41 PM
Star Member CaliforniaPeggy (108,494 posts)
****WCGreen Update --Wednesday April 16, 2014****
From his wife:
Chris is weaning more and more off the vent.
He passed the sip test, so he is on a clear diet, which includes some fruit juices and jello as well as broth and tea. He is still on tube feeding and tolerating it a lot better. They put the tube into his small intestine, bypassing his very sensitive stomach. He also has meds that help the food to move along.
He will probably be moving to a rehab place before the month is out. Hopefully, Grace Hospital, on Fairview Hospital's 6th floor of the old bldg. He was there the last time he was REALLY sick.
I was at the hospital when Physical Therapy was there to work with Chris. I found out that Chris is not very cooperative in PT. Poor baby is often very tired. Since I was there, I encouraged him, and he stood for the first time (with help).
How wonderful because, my sensitive stomach is turning sideways, backwards and upside down...just like history for LIbEralS.
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Seriously, and this isn't to be construed as anything against the green commode primitive.
He's over sixty-five, right, and has never had an especially productive life, right?
I thought there were rules about organ transplants--rules not made by franksolich--that governed who was worth "saving," and who wasn't. I thought organs available for transplantation were so rare that they were doled out only to those deemed most likely to be contributive members of society.
Much in the same sense that dentists generally don't do major dental work on 90-year-olds.
(For the record, franksolich has long, detailed instructions about what's to be done, an what's not to be done, in life-endangering situations. Among them is "no organ transplants;" not that I have anything against organ transplants, but simply because it's fairer to give them to others younger than me, who haven't yet been gifted by life as I've been.)
On the availability of organs, it's kind of uneven...some are in much shorter supply than others, and of course there is the whole 'Does it even match anyone on the waiting list' when one does become available, so it is really kind of a crapshoot on getting a fit between the donor organ, a matching recipient, the transport distance, and the operating team to all coincide. Apparently an embittered old loser who was such a failure in everything else finally won one.
I check 'no' on the organ donation...I don't want some team of docs I've never met to be in any hurry to part me out, and mine are pretty well-used at this point anyway.
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(For the record, franksolich has long, detailed instructions about what's to be done, an what's not to be done, in life-endangering situations. Among them is "no organ transplants;" not that I have anything against organ transplants, but simply because it's fairer to give them to others younger than me, who haven't yet been gifted by life as I've been.)
Same for me and my wife. No extreme measures, take whatever is usable.
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I check 'no' on the organ donation...I don't want some team of docs I've never met to be in any hurry to part me out, and mine are pretty well-used at this point anyway.
Same here, although mine aren't quite as used yet. :-)
I have instructed my wife that if whatever situation looks hopeless, she can make that decision. I don't want to be in the same shoes as this guy:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/sweden/10745138/Swedish-stroke-patient-hears-doctors-discuss-removing-his-organs.html
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The noise of hard soled shoes tapping against the bright hospital white tile is the only sound as Coach makes his way down the long corridor. Pushing through the double doors at the end of the hallway, the nurses only give him a cursory glance as his purposeful look leaves the assumption that he's meant to be there and knows where to go. Quietly opening the door to the room, Coach is greeted by the all too familiar odor of desperation and long term primitive decay. He hopes that this suit doesn't have to go to the dry cleaners to remove the smell, he had to burn the last one in a metal can in his backyard last time. WCgreen is sleeping in his bed, draped in a thin hospital sheet, it's actual function more for modesty than comfort. Coach quietly opens his leather briefcase, exposing a dozen glass syringes, each containing a different chemical. He selects the red one, taking a slight moment to laugh to himself injecting red into a primitive. The syringe is slipped into the IV line, no evidence of direct injection should be left behind as he knows from the dozens of primitive cases in the past. He closes his briefcase and slips out of the room just as WCgreen flatlines. He quietly steps past the crash cart and nurses as he makes his way down the hall, his hard soled shoes tapping with a purposeful sound on the tile.
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The noise of hard soled shoes tapping against the bright hospital white tile is the only sound as Coach makes his way down the long corridor. Pushing through the double doors at the end of the hallway, the nurses only give him a cursory glance as his purposeful look leaves the assumption that he's meant to be there and knows where to go. Quietly opening the door to the room, Coach is greeted by the all too familiar odor of desperation and long term primitive decay. He hopes that this suit doesn't have to go to the dry cleaners to remove the smell, he had to burn the last one in a metal can in his backyard last time. WCgreen is sleeping in his bed, draped in a thin hospital sheet, it's actual function more for modesty than comfort. Coach quietly opens his leather briefcase, exposing a dozen glass syringes, each containing a different chemical. He selects the red one, taking a slight moment to laugh to himself injecting red into a primitive. The syringe is slipped into the IV line, no evidence of direct injection should be left behind as he knows from the dozens of primitive cases in the past. He closes his briefcase and slips out of the room just as WCgreen flatlines. He quietly steps past the crash cart and nurses as he makes his way down the hall, his hard soled shoes tapping with a purposeful sound on the tile.
Then he steps outside into the warm sunshine and admires all the beauty the world has to offer knowing he has done his good deed for the day. The world seems a better place as the DUmmie slips slowly into hell for all eternity.
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Actually, one of my real-life talents is the ability to walk in on something as if I belong there, and so nobody pays any attention.
I don't do it on purpose--there's not a malicious bone in this body--but it sometimes just happens that I venture into places where one's not supposed to.
I think I get away with it because I look so average, so harmless, part of the scenery.
The most outstanding accomplishment was when I mistook the main headquarters of the secret police in Ukraine for an elementary school, and nonchalantly walked right in. I didn't get far, in fact barely inside, but I did get past two guards before the third one stopped me. Apparently nobody had ever gotten past the first guard.
It doesn't work all the time, though; about twenty years earlier, when I was younger and greener, I wandered through some palace in Vatican City, looking at things. I was the only one around; there was no one stopping me. But then I reached some sort of archway, and suddenly boom! out of nowhere two of those Swiss guards materialized, one from each side of the archway, and crossed their long-handled axes, forming a giant "X" in front of me so I couldn't pass.
Ooops.
<<<deaf; oftentimes isn't aware is somewhere I shouldn't be.
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Then he steps outside into the warm sunshine and admires all the beauty the world has to offer knowing he has done his good deed for the day. The world seems a better place as the DUmmie slips slowly into hell for all eternity.
Only to start the real suffering.
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On the availability of organs, it's kind of uneven...some are in much shorter supply than others, and of course there is the whole 'Does it even match anyone on the waiting list' when one does become available, so it is really kind of a crapshoot on getting a fit between the donor organ, a matching recipient, the transport distance, and the operating team to all coincide. Apparently an embittered old loser who was such a failure in everything else finally won one.
Yeah, I kind of figured that; the green commode primitive just lucked out in that there wasn't a good match for a better person, someone with potential, someone with a whole life to have yet.
As for organ donations, I'm listed as one. There's nothing wrong with any of these organs other than ageing, and if someone can get any use out of them, good for them. I'm sure that Bill could use this liver, and that Skippy can use this brain, and even though I'd have no say in the matter, I hope to God they're not recipients.
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Yeah, I kind of figured that; the green commode primitive just lucked out in that there wasn't a good match for a better person, someone with potential, someone with a whole life to have yet.
As for organ donations, I'm listed as one. There's nothing wrong with any of these organs other than ageing, and if someone can get any use out of them, good for them. I'm sure that Bill could use this liver, and that Skippy can use this brain, and even though I'd have no say in the matter, I hope to God they're not recipients.
I'm sure it would cause Bill and Skippy a lot more discomfort knowing their organs came from a "gasp" conservative, than you possibly knowing your organs went into a primitive.
God IS good, but sometimes he has a wicked sense of humor. :lol:
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I'm sure it would cause Bill and Skippy a lot more discomfort knowing their organs came from a "gasp" conservative, than you possibly knowing your organs went into a primitive.
God IS good, but sometimes he has a wicked sense of humor. :lol:
When I wrote that, the idea wasn't all thought out.
Bill could undoubtedly use this liver, but Skippy needs this spine more than this brain; I'm sure this brain would be of more help to walrus-face.
And as for this sexual organ, given that God has a sense of humor, the seabeyond primitive could probably use it.
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When I wrote that, the idea wasn't all thought out.
Bill could undoubtedly use this liver, but Skippy needs this spine more than this brain; I'm sure this brain would be of more help to walrus-face.
And as for this sexual organ, given that God has a sense of humor, the seabeyond primitive could probably use it.
ANY brain would be a help to Dougie, poor fellow was born ignorant and has been losing ground ever since! :lmao: