And Now I Wait...

You who have been long time readers have listened to my complaints about an extremely painful lower back. It has taken four years to reach the point I came to this morning.

First I had an x-ray which indicated a slight bulge and deterioration of the L5-S1 area of my spine. I went to physical therapy. A lot of good things happened except for the pain. I became more flexible and my balance improved. Then came acupuncture to no avail. We investigated the bursitis issue of my hip which showed some "shredded" muscle in my gluteus medius and minimous. More physical therapy with the addition of deep tissue massage and chiropractic. Again, other things got better but the pain remained and was getting worse. At least I needed more pain killer to tolerate it.

Finally, my doctor suggested I might need to see a back doctor. Physical therapy shouldn't hurt! Well, DUH!! Finally. Finally.

Last Monday I went to see one. It took him about 32 seconds to spot the inflamed nerve root. The joy of going to a specialist! I knew he was going to suggest the "shot" which I had been dreading. "All I've heard," I told him, "is that they are extremely painful."

"Not so" he said emphatically. "It depends on how it's done. We numb you up then give the shot and you'll feel little if anything."

I nodded, wanting to believe him but not really doing so. But, after four years this was my last hope. My back is a pretty good back for one my age. There is nothing structurally the matter with it. But the inflammation can cause fits. Tell me!

So today was the day. Hub drove me because I was told my legs would be numb for a time and I shouldn't drive. Off we went for my Epidural Steroid Injection. The link shows exactly how it's done.

I should know in about three days if it's working. In two to three weeks we'll know how well. Hopefully I'll not need another. But on the bright side, if I do I won't hesitate. The doctor was a man of his word.

Did I feel anything? Yes. I felt it when they injected the laticane on each side of my spine. It was no worse than having an acupuncture needle inserted except for a slight burning sensation which was gone as quickly as it came. I was aware of the other needle being inserted but it didn't hurt as much as when you have blood drawn!

So, today, rather than feeling the dread that fills anticipation, I'm filled with cautious optimism. Gosh, if I could only translate that same optimism to my political observations I might again be a happy person!

This Is "Bull"!

Why is it that dog fighting and cock fighting are considered cruel, inhumane sport yet bull fighting with the insane ritual of "running with the bulls" in Pamplona remains so popular in Spain?

It brings out a side of me that is not pleasant. This year a man was killed and so far three more have been hospitalized. I cheer for the bulls. And I seethe with anger at the inhumanity of it. For it is humans who allow it, partake in it and cheer it.

It says little about the intellect of those who participate - trying to out run a herd of bulls down narrow confining streets. There are always vivid descriptions of the ghastly injuries that either kill or maim. Like being gored in the neck, heart and lungs.

It is, however, nothing compared to what happens to the bulls. It's not sport. It's brutal blood lust. It doesn't even pit bull against bull. It pits man, with his brain, such as it is, against a dumb animal. The bull is poked and prodded and bled by men on horseback until the mighty matador faces a hurting, confused, enraged animal to deliver the death blow. What kind of "sport" is that? What kind of pleasure can possibly be derived from witnessing it? A show of skill? On a mortally wounded animal?

It's bad enough when man shows his capability for inhumanity against his own as we are too often privy to in parts of Africa and the Middle East. What does it say about the psyche of man when this "sport" is the second most popular in a Western country thought to be a bastion of civilization? This is not a bunch of thugs betting on dogs out in the wilds. This is organized in huge public arenas followed by celebratory partying.

It makes me want to meter out justice in kind to those who participate. On the other hand, they do it themselves to an extent by running with those bulls. Every time one is gored oar killed, that is justice. It's too bad it's not proportionate to the number of bulls ultimately killed and what they suffer.

The 100% Perfect Solution

Sometimes things are so blatantly obvious I wonder why I haven't seen them clearly long before I do!

I was chatting with my neighbor this morning. We talked about the health of both our old dogs and laughed about our not having any white flour when her daughter came looking for a cup full and what good gravy whole wheat flour makes. We talked of the neighborhood deer that spent a couple of hours lounging under one of her pines just wiling away the afternoon yesterday and how we hope no one shoots her come hunting season. We 're both anxious for the Michael Jackson hoopla to fade and rolled our eyes over Sarah Palin's current escapades.

I had never come close to mentioning politics with her before. She was born and raised in Idaho, one of the most red of red states. I was a bit surprised. She went on to explain she and one son are the black sheep of the family. They are, she said, about as liberal as you can get.

It made me think of my parents. They too were at opposite ends of the political spectrum though politics weren't much of an issue in our household. Then it hit me!

Okay. It's Friday. Yard work is done for the day and I haven't posted one of my Dogwalk Solutions for at least a week. Today it's how to end partisanship in Congress! Be it male or female, make it a requirement that the spouse of the candidate be of the opposite party!

Think about it. Look at Mary Matalin and James Carville, probably the best known family of political opposites. They have a good strong marriage and a great family regardless of their political views. Why? Well, they probably love each other which isn't a bad place to start, but more importantly they've learned to work together for the good of their family regardless of party affiliation!

What better training ground than family? Those in Congress don't seem to understand the concept of putting differences aside, or compromising for the good of the country. Maybe they would understand it in terms of family! Perhaps they should think of us as their surrogate children.

Sure, there will always be those who will never put anyone before themselves. Those like the aforementioned Sarah Palin, or John Edwards, John Ensign, Roland Burris and Mark Sanford. But, as in real life, are not most members of Congress family men and women like you and I, or my parents, or my neighbors? Of course they are.

I realize that as soon as someone is elected to Congress they go through a brain wipe that removes all sensibilities other than party and self. Maybe we have been handling elections all wrong. Let's forget political ideology and focus on what one learns from being a member of a family. The most important is perhaps the art of compromise for the greater good.

It is so simple and so obvious. And that is exactly why no one has seen it!

Let's "Face" It!

In the past week there have been two full blown articles about Facebook in papers as diverse as The Spokesman Review out of Spokane, Washington and London's Financial Times . For the one or two of you who don't know what Facebook is, it's a social networking sight.

I had absolutely no interest in checking it out. I blog. That's enough, so I thought. Now, once again, as with blogging, I'm hooked.

A former neighbor in Rochester who now lives in Napa asked me to join as a way to keep up with her myriad of activities. She is a busy gal to be sure and the only e-mails I get from her are those irritating "forwards" of corny sentiments and cute animals. So I took the plunge.

With a high school reunion coming up I first started looking for old classmates. Then family. Then a few fellow bloggers who I had seen mention it from time to time. Then I started going through my address book and putting in e-mails of people I like which morphed into looking for names of people I know at random. Wow. I was having such fun. I now have more "friends" on Facebook, as few as they are, then I have in the community in which I live. Hmmm. That doesn't say much good about my social skills does it!

I like my friends list though. It's a who's who of the local blogging community plus a lot of cyber friends from around the world. Most of them read my blog and I theirs. Unless, however, we've developed a "personal" relationship with e-mails beyond blog comments, or their sites are strictly diaries of sorts, I don't know much about them as individuals.

That's where I find I love Facebook. It really gives me insight into their lives; who they really are and what they're about.

I've got a couple of former Spokesman reporters who were hit by the massive downsizing. They've taken control of their lives and gone off in new and fascinating directions. I have city council members, news columnists and political party bigwigs. I have three veterinarians - Bacchus' cardiologist, his local vet and a wonderful lady who has been a vet for over 30 years in New Zealand.

I have friends and friends of friends and I'm taking the time to get to know each of them. This is better than the pen pals we had as kids!

I'm not moving on to Twitter. I haven't the time nor the inclination. But I do love Facebook and for all those who have become my "friends", thanks. You're quite a community!

Ban The Books Or Those Who Do The Banning?

There are times, in this wondrous world of blogging, truly strange things happen.

Back in November I wrote a post on a conflict over a book that was proposed to be banned in the Coeur d'Alene School District, Huxley's Brave New World, and how it parallelled the reality of today.

Last month I received an e-mail from a member of the National Coalition Against Censorship thanking me for that post and encouraging me to continue blogging about similar happenings. The very same day a letter-to-the-editor appeared in the Coeur d'Alene Press from a member of the "Novel Ad Hoc Committee for the Coeur d'Alene School District" stating her reasons for not approving several books given for review. To sum it up, the letter ended saying, "No folks, it's not censoring. IT'S CALLED PARENTING".

She used a statement taken from Wikipedia quoting in part from the Coalitions own web site telling of books that had been banned and why.

On one book she asked an acquaintance his opinion. He read a few pages and dissed it as did she on that basis. She chose a second book and decided to check it out on the web. Wikipedia. That's where she found the Coalition's remarks. I doubt she ever visited their site. Okay. I was appalled. Refuse a book not read by comments on Wikipedia and call it parenting.

The book? Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I had not read it either so I went to the library and checked it out.

Here is what Wikipedia and the Coalition said, according to her letter:

...parents and schools have objected to "Caged Bird's" depiction of lesbianism, premarital cohabitation, pornography and violence. Some have been critical of the book's sexually explicit scenes, use of language and religious depiction.

Wow, I thought, I'm in for quite a read. Until I started. It is the autobiographical recollections of Maya Angelou from the time she was three years old when she and her four year old brother were shipped from Long Beach, CA to Stamps, Arkansas to be raised by their Grandmother.

It is a grueling and beautifully written recollection of what life was like during the depression years in the black community of a small southern town. The hardships, the pecking order, the brutal prejudices and the killings that sometimes resulted. It takes you with her for a stay with her mother in St. Louis where she was first fondled sexually and finally raped by her mother's boyfriend. He was later found kicked to death.

This is how life was. This is how her life was. It goes on. She and her brother return to Sparks for a time and finish their schooling. Both were avid readers, reading books far more advanced in their childhood years than most of our high schoolers read today. Poe. Shakespeare.

After her graduation from 8th grade the children return to California. She spent some time with her father who turned out to be a womanizing drunk, ran away and lived for a month with a group of runaways. They had more sense of community than most adults. They pooled what money they had for the benefit of the entire group and kept the sexes segregated.

Back with her mother she continues her education and as any girl in her early teens would do, searched for her self. After having read The Well of Loneliness, a book written in the late 20s, a depiction of lesbians searching for acceptance, and being less developed than her peers she began to wonder if something was wrong with her. She had the misconception that lesbians might be hermaphrodites and that she too might be one especially having seen a friend, more fully developed than she, naked and was fascinated.

To cement her "womanhood", in her mind, she offered herself to a neighbor boy and ended up pregnant. Now here is where actual parenting actually came into play! She was asked if he wanted to marry her. No. Did she want to marry him? No. Good. Two lives not ruined. She kept the baby. The book ended at that point of time in her life. She was 16, maybe 17.

Nothing in the book was salacious, nor the least bit titillating. It was how the girl, as she grew, saw her life and that around her. I found nothing approaching pornography, no graphic depictions of violence, no overt lesbianism. Premarital cohabitation was the way it was as was the religious depiction. Today's movies, television and the public beach have far more graphic depictions and foul language than anything in this book.

There is nothing in the book that today's teen would find shocking. What they will find is how blacks were thought of and treated in historical and geographical context during the Depression and on into the War.

That a person chosen to review a book chooses not to read the book, to make a judgements from an ill conceived write up on Wikipedia and in that misuse a Coalition that fights censorship is beyond my comprehension.

One can only wonder how this Ad Hoc Committee is chosen. This is not parenting. This is an abrogation of responsibility.