Sunday, January 17, 2010
Haiti
God rest the souls of those who perished in the earthquake. And may he give peace, comfort, and strength to those who survived and are suffering. May help come quickly.
Friday, December 11, 2009
2 Talents, or 5?
The other day, Boundless blog asked what our talents were and are we wasting them? Ouch. Yes. I'm a writer, a pianist and singer-though I don't compose, an expert seamstress, and fledgling illustrator. Do I really do those things? Not really. I don't belong to the church choir because they have a glut of women, and this is probably my ego talking, but nobody in the choir reads music and I think I would be frustrated pretty quickly. There’s no way this isn’t going to sound proud, but I am certainly more advanced technically, and I know from experience I would have a hard time being patient when I've had so many years of musical training and it comes so easily to me. I've also seen many times when an average church choir gets one person who's had training and has a fantastic voice (not talking about myself here in respect to the voice. My voice is pleasant, but it's not remarkable). That person tends to have all the music built around them, whether it was their intention or not. They end up singing everything and will either get burned out or develop an inflated view of their talent, and it crowds out the dedicated, so-so people who are trying to serve.
I do miss singing very badly. I loved getting into a really technically difficult piece and mastering it. Our college Chorale director was always very exacting and pulled feats of beauty out of us we didn’t know we were capable of. If the dust ever settles (ha), I’d love to audition for the annual Messiah performance at the Citadel. I would probably have an advantage since I already know it well; the only difficulty is my voice. It’s smoky, and ill-suited to the baroque choral music I love so much. I have a strong suspicion that the college director only kept me around because he liked me and knew I’d turn in a solid performance with perfect rehearsal attendance-and those are good reasons-but probably not good enough for a professional orchestra director.
As far as writing goes, I wrote prolifically in high school and college, and then tapered off since I got married. I find the Muse doesn't visit much when I'm happy, since my genius, like a dung beetle, always fed on big juicy piles of angst. I have a novelette to finish. I started it in high school and never really had any good inspiration for it. It was supposed to cap off a trilogy, and I never could get that into it. The first two were much more fun. My college roommate and I started a story about a tribe of Celtic-ish women warriors that got bogged down in the middle and ground to a halt when we both graduated. Could finish that, but I have a strong suspicion I (we?) was only writing it to keep my mind off my lack of dating prospects at the time.
Am I sewing? I should be. I want to be, but I'm not. In our new house, I finally have the space to spread my work out. I have a half dozen projects in planning stages or unfinished, and a big stack of mending and alterations. But there's always something to cook or clean, and by the time I'm done with my chores, I'm too tired to do much of anything.
Am I drawing? I need to be. I signed an illustration contract in October and haven't accomplished much. Right around Thanksgiving I discovered I have an overactive thyroid that's sucking all the energy out of me. After work, it's all I can do to throw a load of wash in, fix a quick stir fry, and collapse on the couch. I must push through the fatigue and make myself draw, however, because my author is counting on me.
I do miss singing very badly. I loved getting into a really technically difficult piece and mastering it. Our college Chorale director was always very exacting and pulled feats of beauty out of us we didn’t know we were capable of. If the dust ever settles (ha), I’d love to audition for the annual Messiah performance at the Citadel. I would probably have an advantage since I already know it well; the only difficulty is my voice. It’s smoky, and ill-suited to the baroque choral music I love so much. I have a strong suspicion that the college director only kept me around because he liked me and knew I’d turn in a solid performance with perfect rehearsal attendance-and those are good reasons-but probably not good enough for a professional orchestra director.
As far as writing goes, I wrote prolifically in high school and college, and then tapered off since I got married. I find the Muse doesn't visit much when I'm happy, since my genius, like a dung beetle, always fed on big juicy piles of angst. I have a novelette to finish. I started it in high school and never really had any good inspiration for it. It was supposed to cap off a trilogy, and I never could get that into it. The first two were much more fun. My college roommate and I started a story about a tribe of Celtic-ish women warriors that got bogged down in the middle and ground to a halt when we both graduated. Could finish that, but I have a strong suspicion I (we?) was only writing it to keep my mind off my lack of dating prospects at the time.
Am I sewing? I should be. I want to be, but I'm not. In our new house, I finally have the space to spread my work out. I have a half dozen projects in planning stages or unfinished, and a big stack of mending and alterations. But there's always something to cook or clean, and by the time I'm done with my chores, I'm too tired to do much of anything.
Am I drawing? I need to be. I signed an illustration contract in October and haven't accomplished much. Right around Thanksgiving I discovered I have an overactive thyroid that's sucking all the energy out of me. After work, it's all I can do to throw a load of wash in, fix a quick stir fry, and collapse on the couch. I must push through the fatigue and make myself draw, however, because my author is counting on me.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Tobosthenes the Biter of Men
It's sad that I have to be prodded to keep posting on MLV. In my defense, I've been insanely busy lately, though not too busy to re-read some hoary old novels I probably should have memorized by now.
Tonight, I'm supervising Will cleaning up the office. I'm also playing with Tobosthenes the Biter of Men. It's a good thing he's cute. *Mumbles indistinct threats* I know he's a puppy and he's going to do these things, but the not-so-little doggy is driving me nuts. He also farts. And by farts, I mean he emits a poisonous miasma from his tailpipe that could be classified as a biohazard. Hazmat suit, please! However, I am fond of the muttling, in spite of his very obvious (and painful) flaws. He's putting on weight nicely. I figure he's gained 8-10 pounds and has definitely gotten taller in the two months or so we've had him. Every evening I call him in, he seems subtly bigger. Is that how my mom looked at me when I was ten? We've guess that his physical maturity in human years should put him at the same level of coordination as a 10 year old boy. Which means he can barely walk without running into something. And by walk, I mean skidding at top speed, front legs splayed out, eyes full of panic. Dog fails at hardwood floors. The funniest example was one night when Will was at Taekwondo, Evan was on the laptop in the living room, and I was coming in from the kitchen to the living room. Toby was doing laps around the couch at top speed. He circled the coffee table and headed toward me. I sidestepped, but unfortunately didn't get out of the way fast enough. He crashed into my knees, nearly knocking me over, then picked himself up and did another lap. By the time he was done with his lap, I was standing by the back door, holding it open. Toby slid across the linoleum, gathered his hind legs for one enormous leap, sailed out the back door and belly flopped onto the pavement. He immediately bounced up, looking delighted with himself and the whole world. The expression on his face said "Ahhh, this is the life." Whatever you say, dog. Belly flopping on concrete isn't for me.
As hazardous as it is, I'm discovering a sick desire to mess with the dog. Fully protected, of course, in TKD sparring helmet and leather gardening gloves. Just loudly saying GAHBLEAHBLEAHBLEAH makes him totally freak out, spinning in puppy pirouettes with jaws wide and teeth gleaming. If I'm far enough out of range, this is hilarious. If not, ouch. I'll be nursing the scratches for the next three days. He's also terrified of the dust mop. I discovered this purely by accident when I was sweeping up the sand that came off our bicycle tires. He started running around yipping in panic. I couldn't believe a stalwart, manly pup like Toby would be afraid of something that sweeps smoothly and silently, but he is. I haven't exactly chased him with it (and boy am I lying right now), but I have been sweeping more than usual. As my dear friend Annie would say, I'm *so* going to hell.
I must admit I like Toby best when he's snoring at my feet while I watch TV. He's a great foot warmer, and it's cathartic to stroke his snoring head. I love his silky ears and his little puppy snores. However, if he doesn't shape up as he grows, especially if we have a kid, I'm sending him one way in a box with no airholes to Florida. My father in law seemed totally besotted by the pup, and they have more time than we do to train him and play with him. We'll see how it plays out.
Tonight, I'm supervising Will cleaning up the office. I'm also playing with Tobosthenes the Biter of Men. It's a good thing he's cute. *Mumbles indistinct threats* I know he's a puppy and he's going to do these things, but the not-so-little doggy is driving me nuts. He also farts. And by farts, I mean he emits a poisonous miasma from his tailpipe that could be classified as a biohazard. Hazmat suit, please! However, I am fond of the muttling, in spite of his very obvious (and painful) flaws. He's putting on weight nicely. I figure he's gained 8-10 pounds and has definitely gotten taller in the two months or so we've had him. Every evening I call him in, he seems subtly bigger. Is that how my mom looked at me when I was ten? We've guess that his physical maturity in human years should put him at the same level of coordination as a 10 year old boy. Which means he can barely walk without running into something. And by walk, I mean skidding at top speed, front legs splayed out, eyes full of panic. Dog fails at hardwood floors. The funniest example was one night when Will was at Taekwondo, Evan was on the laptop in the living room, and I was coming in from the kitchen to the living room. Toby was doing laps around the couch at top speed. He circled the coffee table and headed toward me. I sidestepped, but unfortunately didn't get out of the way fast enough. He crashed into my knees, nearly knocking me over, then picked himself up and did another lap. By the time he was done with his lap, I was standing by the back door, holding it open. Toby slid across the linoleum, gathered his hind legs for one enormous leap, sailed out the back door and belly flopped onto the pavement. He immediately bounced up, looking delighted with himself and the whole world. The expression on his face said "Ahhh, this is the life." Whatever you say, dog. Belly flopping on concrete isn't for me.
As hazardous as it is, I'm discovering a sick desire to mess with the dog. Fully protected, of course, in TKD sparring helmet and leather gardening gloves. Just loudly saying GAHBLEAHBLEAHBLEAH makes him totally freak out, spinning in puppy pirouettes with jaws wide and teeth gleaming. If I'm far enough out of range, this is hilarious. If not, ouch. I'll be nursing the scratches for the next three days. He's also terrified of the dust mop. I discovered this purely by accident when I was sweeping up the sand that came off our bicycle tires. He started running around yipping in panic. I couldn't believe a stalwart, manly pup like Toby would be afraid of something that sweeps smoothly and silently, but he is. I haven't exactly chased him with it (and boy am I lying right now), but I have been sweeping more than usual. As my dear friend Annie would say, I'm *so* going to hell.
I must admit I like Toby best when he's snoring at my feet while I watch TV. He's a great foot warmer, and it's cathartic to stroke his snoring head. I love his silky ears and his little puppy snores. However, if he doesn't shape up as he grows, especially if we have a kid, I'm sending him one way in a box with no airholes to Florida. My father in law seemed totally besotted by the pup, and they have more time than we do to train him and play with him. We'll see how it plays out.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Hungry for Fall
Let me bend my back now and take the beatings from certain persons who have been after me to update my blog for the last month. I'm looking at you, Work Buddy.
The last 7 weeks have galloped by with the tick-tack of Toby's claws on my hardwood floors. Yes, there is now a Toby. Since we closed on our house we've acquired a roommate, a puppy, and some bicycles. We've broken the lawnmower and put some hammer head-sized holes in the closet wall trying to hang a shelf that just didn't want to stay up. We've hosted Will's parents, a birthday party, and a gaming night that wasn't supposed to go to 3 am, but did.
We now have our 4th anniversary behind us, my birthday on the tenth, and the weather has almost been "chillish." Because I am always mildly hungry, my attention turns to the delights of autumn food. Not the candy apples and funnel cakes of county fairs, though those definitely factor in, but cold weather comfort food to make at home. With 30 minutes left on the clock, hungry and bored, I clicked over to Real Simple's recipe tab. Found a mouth-watering recipe for macaroni and cauliflower casserole. I'm eager to make it for Will since, like many young men, he could eat macaroni and cheese 2 meals a day, 6 days a week (Sunday being reserved for roast and leftover roast for supper).
When the in-laws visited, my mother in law gave us a white ceramic pumpkin cookie jar and a dairy-free pumpkin cookie recipe. I'm excited to make that, since pumpkin is one of my favorite flavors, along with hazelnut, and let's face it, soy sauce.
I'm also remembering with growling stomach, a fantastic white chili a hallmate made for all of us my senior year of college. I've Googled white chili recipes, but can't seem to find one that doesn't heavily rely on hot peppers. The crazy thing is, I don't really like chili because of the mushy texture of the beans, but that chili was just so good-and it could have been that we used Fritos for spoons-that I really want to try it again as the weather changes.
I'm covered for cold weather lunch options. Madra Rua, the local Irish pub, has Angus burgers with inch and a half thick patties and steaming shepherd's pie. EVO, the foodie pizza place, has carrot-ginger bisque that is a little overwhelming on its own, but when sopped up with the house focaccia bread, is absolutely sublime. Unfortunately, I first tried it at the end of July when it was too hot to appreciate it properly. I'm waiting until mid-November to order it again; it should be just the thing then.
Eating out is all very well, but I cherish daydreams of going for a long walk in the crisp air, then coming home to a warm house to make hot chocolate and eat pumpkin cookies, or of pulling pies out of the oven as the Man and Roommate of the house trudge in with the Christmas tree. Sometimes you just have to make the food yourself and experience the satisfaction of feeding your own.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
In Which Will Does Cute Things
We're in the middle of the agonizing process of moving. Last night we tried to head to the apartment to load more stuff...and ended up at Chick fil-A, starving to death. From there, we went straight to Best Buy, and then to Target. By that time, it was raining (Again. This move has been undertaken during a 100% humidity weather system. Figures.), so we holed up there, ostensibly to look for over-the-door hooks and a TV console table. We found an espresso colored cabinet that fit the bill and wasn't too expensive. Will took the cart to the electronics section while I cruised the bed and bath section looking for those hooks. On my 287th pass, I began to suspect I might never find them and headed toward the back of the store to find Will. I practically bumped into him turning a corner. Some things had been added to the basket: a Josh Groban cd and a pair of royal blue goggles. He smiled his sweet, dimply smile and said "I think you lost some things. Here they are." Indeed I had lost those things. Papa Crabbe had given me Closer by Josh Groban to get me through my sinus surgery, and it had been borrowed by somebody and never returned. My old lime green and black goggles had been stolen, along with my swimsuit, sometime during the last weeks of my sophomore year of college. They could have had the matronly, high-necked blue swimsuit, but I needed those goggles! I can't/won't put my face underwater without goggles because my eyes refuse to get used to chlorine, and that lack had definitely made me antisocial at pool events. I couldn't believe he remembered! Just another example of how nicely my husband takes care of me.
Wise as Serpents
Today I got an e-mail forward from an older person I greatly admire. It was claiming that President Obama specifically targeted a Christian group at some function. I deleted it without watching the video it linked to. Christians seem particularly susceptible to urban legends. Hardly a day goes by without the religious right spreading chain e-mails guaranteed to provoke outrage or hysteria. Unfortunately, 99% of those "facts" are not true. Please, please, please, before you pass on a political chain e-mail, check its veracity. Snopes.com is specifically devoted to that end. Christians already look foolish enough to the world for our beliefs, which Jesus warned us would happen. Let's not add self-inflicted ignorance to the list of things Christians are mocked and written off for.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Op Ed
Work Buddy has been bugging me to post again. She's out on maternity and must be going a little nuts if she's so eager to hear from me again. I'm still in the "waiting to close on my house" holding pattern. Kind of feels like I've died and gone to limbo. What's annoying is knowing that I won't need to use any of my own money for the down payment, but I still have to leave it in the bank so the lender can see it. That's all right. By this time next week, we'll be pretty much debt free because the second we get the keys in our hand, we're going to be making gigantic credit card payments. Time to get THAT business over with. I was supposed to have lunch with my other friend, Pretty Smile, today. She got trapped in meetings all day and couldn't make it. Oh well, we'll try again for Friday, and at any rate, Madra Rua fries are worth pretty much anything, so I don't mind getting stood up. Pretty Smile is also looking at a lot in a new-construction neighborhood. I'm excited for her about that. I think hearing about our house experience and meeting our realtor made her want a place of her own. Hope it goes well.
None of that is related to the topic at hand.
Healthcare is all over the news right now. I'm trying to crystalize my beliefs on the subject, though I doubt I'll be asked to debate them anytime soon. First, I believe that the government should not have any say in how a person uses his money. He earned it; it's his. But since the government has authorized itself to appropriate a tidy chunk of earnings in taxes, I believe the government should tread very carefully when using those funds, because the people it took the money from are watching. Now to the healthcare issue. I don't think providing universal healthcare with taxpayer money is a legitimate purpose of the government. We have three branches: Congress makes laws, the Supreme Court interprets and applies the law, and the President declares war and makes treaties. I don't see healthcare in any of those functions. It could be argued that it falls under Congress making laws, but just because Congress can make a law, doesn't mean that it should. A law should not restrict whether a person may purchase a legal service such as health insurance with his own money, how much of it he may buy, and for what products and services it may be used. That's going too far. Granted, the President has repeatedly said that healthcare plan will not interfere with private insurance, but I don't understand how it won't. If there is a public health plan, there is no incentive for employers to offer insurance coverage; in fact, dropping it will save companies a lot of money. Let's face it, the most desirable employees in terms of experience are often overweight and middle-aged. Won't be long before they have heart trouble, knee replacements, and Type 2 Diabetes. None of those things are cheap. A public health plan will also drive private insurance companies out of business, except for a few with wealthy clients. The rest of us won't be able to afford supplemental insurance under the inevitable increased tax burden. How does the government think to pay for all of this, anyway? Higher taxes.
My next issue is who the public healthcare plan is supposed to benefit? The poor? They get Medicaid. The elderly? Medicare. The wealthy have no trouble affording the very best in healthcare. Most middle-class get insurance through their jobs if they choose to take it. What group does that leave out? Illegal immigrants? The homeless? Both of those groups are afforded care through emergency rooms and targeted non-profit centers. So it seems like every major group is pretty much covered. There are at least options if one chooses to take advantage of them. Or not. That's the freedom of choice. And I'm wondering where the public demand for universal healthcare came from? I watch, read, and listen to the news daily and I haven't heard anything about it since Hillarycare in the late 90s. From what I've heard going into the election, the public wanted more fiscal responsibility and a plan for ending the war. Nothing about healthcare.
All of that aside, given the political climate in the country, I think that some move toward socialism in this area is probably going to happen. If it does, I would like to recommend the Australian plan rather than the Canadian or UK plan. As I understand it, the Australian government offers a baseline of healthcare to all and then individuals buy supplemental insurance. There doesn't seem to be the long waits for care or the rationing that plagues the UK. If this is what Obama is advocating, I'm more okay with it than a plan like the UK's, though I'd prefer that it not get messed with at all. It's hard to pin down what's actually going on with all the political bombast on the subject.
What I would like to see no matter what happens is a reforming of attitudes toward pregnancy and childbirth. My insurance currently costs quadruple what Will's does, simply because I am of childbearing age. Pregnancy is not an illness, and should not have to wrack up such horrendous medical expenses. I just read an article on Slate's Double X womens' blog. The author told of receiving a hospital bill for $22,000, even though she had insurance. Turns out the loopholes in the policy enabled the company to only agree to cover $3,000 of the total. She fought the company and received a reimbursement, but stories like that highlight how out of hand this whole thing has gotten. In that sense, I think a re-assessment of insurance company operating procedures would be extremely useful even while universal healthcare is being debated.
The other main issue that I see is that seniors are afraid healthcare rationing will kill them off. And yes, I think this will happen, not by design, but in practice. I am going to have to feel my way very carefully here. I have a problem with the way that geriatric care is handled. Many old people's lives are endless rounds of surgeries, pills, catheters, etc. Does it need to be this way? Is it really worth it to perform a procedure on someone in their last illness that will perhaps prolong their life for a semi-conscious, heavily drugged week? I'm not even going to talk about the financial cost that much, but the other day I heard a woman call in to a talk radio show. She said her father had cancer, and they might have to lose their family farm in order to pay for his treatment, but they'd do it to keep him alive. The woman was middle aged, which would make her father elderly. There seems to be a denial that old age and illness are the primary means by which humans meet their Maker. Clearly, people without the Lord have everything to fear from death. But there seems to be something extra undignified about the way Americans scramble to stay alive, bankrupting their families, drawing out debilitating illnesses for years. Maybe it's the era, maybe it's Western culture. I can't quite put my finger on who started it, but there's no denying that there is widespread fear of aging and death. Human frames are temporary. 70-80 years or so, and it falls apart on its own. There's something painful, almost funny, about the way people are surprised when they're wrinkled, stiff, and unwell. The way they talk, you'd think it was a surprise. But age doesn't sneak up on anybody. We feel the clock ticking down. We move forward through time as our structure breaks down. The water tower rusts, the picket fence rots, and so do we. I have always thought that old age was the time to "put one's house in order," as the prophet Isaiah said to King Hezekiah. In that sense, I agree that geriatric medicine should focus on hospice and palliative care. Knowing that one cannot live forever should lead the sick to evaluate any treatment offered in that light.
And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe,
And then from hour to hour we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale.
As You Like It
William Shakespeare
None of that is related to the topic at hand.
Healthcare is all over the news right now. I'm trying to crystalize my beliefs on the subject, though I doubt I'll be asked to debate them anytime soon. First, I believe that the government should not have any say in how a person uses his money. He earned it; it's his. But since the government has authorized itself to appropriate a tidy chunk of earnings in taxes, I believe the government should tread very carefully when using those funds, because the people it took the money from are watching. Now to the healthcare issue. I don't think providing universal healthcare with taxpayer money is a legitimate purpose of the government. We have three branches: Congress makes laws, the Supreme Court interprets and applies the law, and the President declares war and makes treaties. I don't see healthcare in any of those functions. It could be argued that it falls under Congress making laws, but just because Congress can make a law, doesn't mean that it should. A law should not restrict whether a person may purchase a legal service such as health insurance with his own money, how much of it he may buy, and for what products and services it may be used. That's going too far. Granted, the President has repeatedly said that healthcare plan will not interfere with private insurance, but I don't understand how it won't. If there is a public health plan, there is no incentive for employers to offer insurance coverage; in fact, dropping it will save companies a lot of money. Let's face it, the most desirable employees in terms of experience are often overweight and middle-aged. Won't be long before they have heart trouble, knee replacements, and Type 2 Diabetes. None of those things are cheap. A public health plan will also drive private insurance companies out of business, except for a few with wealthy clients. The rest of us won't be able to afford supplemental insurance under the inevitable increased tax burden. How does the government think to pay for all of this, anyway? Higher taxes.
My next issue is who the public healthcare plan is supposed to benefit? The poor? They get Medicaid. The elderly? Medicare. The wealthy have no trouble affording the very best in healthcare. Most middle-class get insurance through their jobs if they choose to take it. What group does that leave out? Illegal immigrants? The homeless? Both of those groups are afforded care through emergency rooms and targeted non-profit centers. So it seems like every major group is pretty much covered. There are at least options if one chooses to take advantage of them. Or not. That's the freedom of choice. And I'm wondering where the public demand for universal healthcare came from? I watch, read, and listen to the news daily and I haven't heard anything about it since Hillarycare in the late 90s. From what I've heard going into the election, the public wanted more fiscal responsibility and a plan for ending the war. Nothing about healthcare.
All of that aside, given the political climate in the country, I think that some move toward socialism in this area is probably going to happen. If it does, I would like to recommend the Australian plan rather than the Canadian or UK plan. As I understand it, the Australian government offers a baseline of healthcare to all and then individuals buy supplemental insurance. There doesn't seem to be the long waits for care or the rationing that plagues the UK. If this is what Obama is advocating, I'm more okay with it than a plan like the UK's, though I'd prefer that it not get messed with at all. It's hard to pin down what's actually going on with all the political bombast on the subject.
What I would like to see no matter what happens is a reforming of attitudes toward pregnancy and childbirth. My insurance currently costs quadruple what Will's does, simply because I am of childbearing age. Pregnancy is not an illness, and should not have to wrack up such horrendous medical expenses. I just read an article on Slate's Double X womens' blog. The author told of receiving a hospital bill for $22,000, even though she had insurance. Turns out the loopholes in the policy enabled the company to only agree to cover $3,000 of the total. She fought the company and received a reimbursement, but stories like that highlight how out of hand this whole thing has gotten. In that sense, I think a re-assessment of insurance company operating procedures would be extremely useful even while universal healthcare is being debated.
The other main issue that I see is that seniors are afraid healthcare rationing will kill them off. And yes, I think this will happen, not by design, but in practice. I am going to have to feel my way very carefully here. I have a problem with the way that geriatric care is handled. Many old people's lives are endless rounds of surgeries, pills, catheters, etc. Does it need to be this way? Is it really worth it to perform a procedure on someone in their last illness that will perhaps prolong their life for a semi-conscious, heavily drugged week? I'm not even going to talk about the financial cost that much, but the other day I heard a woman call in to a talk radio show. She said her father had cancer, and they might have to lose their family farm in order to pay for his treatment, but they'd do it to keep him alive. The woman was middle aged, which would make her father elderly. There seems to be a denial that old age and illness are the primary means by which humans meet their Maker. Clearly, people without the Lord have everything to fear from death. But there seems to be something extra undignified about the way Americans scramble to stay alive, bankrupting their families, drawing out debilitating illnesses for years. Maybe it's the era, maybe it's Western culture. I can't quite put my finger on who started it, but there's no denying that there is widespread fear of aging and death. Human frames are temporary. 70-80 years or so, and it falls apart on its own. There's something painful, almost funny, about the way people are surprised when they're wrinkled, stiff, and unwell. The way they talk, you'd think it was a surprise. But age doesn't sneak up on anybody. We feel the clock ticking down. We move forward through time as our structure breaks down. The water tower rusts, the picket fence rots, and so do we. I have always thought that old age was the time to "put one's house in order," as the prophet Isaiah said to King Hezekiah. In that sense, I agree that geriatric medicine should focus on hospice and palliative care. Knowing that one cannot live forever should lead the sick to evaluate any treatment offered in that light.
And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe,
And then from hour to hour we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale.
As You Like It
William Shakespeare
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