My Cup
I took a few weeks off from my weekly contemplations which lately seem to always focus on cultural, societal, political and even global woes. It was a brain cleansing. I recommend it.
I spent my morning at the local VA Medical Center. I travel there once every few months for an injection into either my spine or arthritic hip. According to the docs, it is my reward for years of pounding the ground engaging in the fitness craze of the times. Problem is my body more resembles a tree stump than it does a 125 pound distance runner. Like a Lincoln Town Car, built for comfort not speed. Well, more accurately it is akin to a tow truck. What did Bruce Springsteen call it in one of his tunes – the glory days? In that regard, I would do the same things all over again. So I may need a metal hip someday. There are many who served this great nation that would be eternally grateful if all they needed was a new hip joint.
I know all of you have heard horror stories about VA medical care, but the system does a lot of good for a lot of people. I have had my unpleasant experiences with the bureaucratic side of it, but for me the medical treatment side has always been good. Whenever I am there, no matter the time of day, the place appears overwhelmed. Many older Veterans, some of them seeking treatment because they believe that is where they are supposed to go and many others seek treatment because that is their only option. I see all of the ball caps from Vietnam, Korea and occasionally a WWII one. I simply do not see that many younger Veterans. It is humbling to know I was fortunate enough to spend a lifetime serving with men and women such as these. They left our country’s defense to the following generations from which still comes that few men and women dedicated to being the Guardians of our freedom. God bless them everyone.
I wanted to come home and mow the grass this evening, but my hip had a mind of its own and experience tells me it will until all of the numbing medicine has worn off. Suzie-Q, watching my wobbly trip up the stairs ordered me to the couch. When household six speaks retired Sergeants Major step lively – well maybe we wobble lively. I picked the wicker couch on the back porch and Suzie-Q handed me the day’s first cup of coffee. It was one of those spectacular fall days. Very tall blue sky, temperatures peaking in the 70s, light breeze, just a hint of color in the trees.
The deer wander through my yard. Treat it like their private buffet. I am always complaining to Suzie-Q about damage they do to our shrubbery. Up in the back yard, we have some knock-out roses and she calls them knock you out roses. Flower blooms do not last too long on them. HH6 told me I worried too much about the deer. The other day I called her out on to the patio. She has some very large mums, a bright yellow one, a burgundy one, and a white one there all in a row. Beautiful this time of year. Looks like the Washington Redskins offensive line. What I wanted to show her was a bald spot on the top of her white mum. I also pointed out the deer hoof prints. Needless to say the next order from HH6 was for me to put a chicken wire barrier around the mums to protect them from the deer. You know, the deer that I worry about too much.
I got myself into the supine position on that old wicker couch so that I could have a good view of my little piece of Wild and Wonderful hillside. I still need to mow that grass. Tomorrow I guess. Up the hill, the sound of my neighbor’s weed-eater was actually lulling me into a light coma. To me that weed-eater is just another sound of freedom.
I am a blessed man. Blessed to be born in the greatest nation on God’s green earth as is often said in these parts. I am blessed with a Soldier’s wife, a little bossy at times, but unequaled in my view. Blessed with a Son and Daughter-in-law who honor our family name every day. We are blessed with two gorgeous granddaughters, thankfully neither of which favors me even slightly. Blessed to be living a little piece of the American dream. Blessed to firmly believe that where we live, the place and the idea, will weather the times no matter the cultural or political tides because I believe God meant for it to. I am blessed with the understanding that peace and freedom are internal and cannot be taken by anyone except the Giver.
My cup runneth over.
© 2015 J.D. Pendry, American Journal, All Rights Reserved
Category: Politics
Right there with you, sir!
I had a heart attack July 20th, and open-heart surgery on the 30th. ^-way bypass. I’m all good in the hest department now, but during the 7-hour surgery, they over-extended both my arms and as a result, they over-stretched the Brachial-scapula nerve, along with the ulna and radial nerves in my right arm, and to a smaller extent, the left.
As a resukt, I have some numbness in the two smaller fingers of both hands, and a great deal of fine-motor skills loss in the right. I can’t open my hand nor raise the fingers off the table. I can only type with two fingers now, so that’s why I don’t comment so much as of late.
I was up to the local VA hospital for to see the neurologist. Great doctor. He says that ths is a fairly common condition after such surgeries, and that there is an 85-90% recovery rate, though it can take up to a year to recover fully.
I’ve never had any complaints abut the VA’s medical side. Only about the bureaucracy. But it’s also been nice to be around those WWII and Korea vets and listen to them talk.
Tanks for a great post. I have a small house, my own car, and a small back deck I can sit on with the morning joe and watch the sun come up. We are indeed blessed.
Sorry to hear about your health issues. From what I recall of your earlier comments, you live in one beautiful state, particularly this time of year. I loved it when I lived up there. Glad you are getting good care and bouncing back.
Had the exact same problem after heart surgery Tim. Took some PT and about 6 months, I was well enough to go back to work. As an aside, I have been following the diet from http://www.dresselstyn.com/ and I feel better than I have in many a moon. It’s pretty radical, but I made a promise to my spousal unit that I would do everything I can to stick around as long as possible. The perils of marrying a much younger woman I guess. 🙂 Best of luck, and I hope your recovery is fast, shipmate.
I really like that documentary “Forks Over Knives”. Very compelling if you ask me. I had an uncle that had a significant heart attack about 30 years ago. When he got home, my aunt instituted new food rules and he complied. 3 days each week he went to the gym without fail. He only passed away recently at age 89, but it was not due to heart issues. I am convinced the change in diet and exercise gave him the additional 30 quality years with us. Also, I might add, he was a WWII veteran of the Coast Guard 1943-1946, serving as a radioman on the USS Albireo.
Congratulations on your wonderful life, Sergeant Major!
I, too, have spent the past three (03) days at the George E. Wahlen Department of Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Salt Lake City, Utah.
Monday, I had an EMG test, Tuesday, I had an MRI on my neck, and Wednesday, I had an ultrasound on my carotid artery and a hearing test.
Now, I’m safely home in my apartment in Vernal, Utah, but with intense pain in my lower back.
So, they’ll probably be scheduling me for some more of those same spinal cortisone injections that you take.
Boy, I hope it’s soon.
I did see one guy at the VAMC wearing a US Navy SEAL baseball cap and a US Navy SEAL T-shirt.
Naturally, due to this forum, and other similar forums, I immediately became suspicious.
Isn’t that sad?
He very well might have actually been a genuine US Navy SEAL veteran.
+54
Thanks for reminding us of what really matters Sergeant Major.
ROG THAT!
You bunged-up old birds are the reason I get out with a camera, and sometimes send stuff to our Glorious Leader on Lilyea’s Ridge.
Life is good. Period. Enjoy what you do have and make the most of it.
“Lilyea’s Ridge”
Although to that certain non-CPO Great Northwest Lawer and the rest of the DRG, it should be more aptly named either Heartbreak or Headache Ridge.
Yes, life is good for us and ours. For the DRG, not so much.
To hell with the DRG, they hath fucked themselves!
AAAAAAAAAAAmen to that Brother! Your happiness and devotion to your Country are bench marks for American society.
JDP, I have several friends who would stand in line to help you with your deer problem. I’m not a hunter, but we have a great agreement. They kill, I cook. Win-win!
Prayers for your speedy recovery.
About VA quality, I suspect it often “depends on the situation”.
However, I vividly recall an experience in the Indianapolis VA going through the laughable “Gulf War” screening (they wrote me & said I was suffering no medical problems due to my exposure to Agent Orange in ‘Nam – I would have been ~6 yrs old?
An agitated ‘Nam vet came to the screening desk behind me – they were giving me a run-around so I told him to go ahead and talk with the clerk. He was attempting to sort out some sort of mumbo-jumbo and, while visibly upset and probably a bit strung out, was doing his damnedest to be polite to the clerk.
She summarily called the cops on him & had him removed.
She then rolled her eyes at me.
I should have gone full “Lou Gossett Jr.” on her but I’m ashamed to say I simply criticized her decision as overly hasty.
Thanks for your service JD. I get the pain shots once a yearin my lower back (now that shoulder is semi-fixed).
No VA clinic here, I use the mil hospital here at Osan. Not the best medical care I could get, but its free and the wait list is minimal due to connections I have made.
Glad you can count your blessings.
I have said, before, that the VA saved my dad’s life. He was mis-diagnosed and mis-treated for that wrong diagnosis by our local clown house (hospital and doctors) and when the shit finally hit the fan, because an ER nurse took charge when the doctors were navel gazing, and had him sent to the VA Medical Center 60 miles away, they did emergency surgury to repair internal bleeding scar tissue from his wounds in Vietnam. They pumped enough blood through him to give him a complete oil change 3 times over and removed a lot of internal organ tissue. He left the hospital 2 weeks later and never had any further problems with it. I go to that same VAMC today (in fact I was just there last week for my annual physical and my doctor wasn’t pleased to hear the lack of treatment and follow up on an injury that I’m dealing with with my regular civilian doctor and wants me to get him copies of the records for that injury from my regular doctor, so he can review them and possibly recommend a treatment plan).
Currently lodged at the local VAMC. I get recurring drainage in places I cannot see or reach. Getting the wound packed twice a day to heal from inside out. Down to the last inch or so. Maybe another week.
Staff is great, cigarette Nazis are rude and persistent– threatening fines and such. The only smoking site is for visitors, not patients and down a sidewalk too steep for a wheelchair. I wheel myself to the parking structure and “Do my Two” cigs between a couple trucks. The pigeons know me and come cooing and bobbing heads when I appear. They will not touch Cheerios but love snack crackers with cheese or peanut butter. I think they know something serious about Cheerios that we have not discovered yet.
Great endless coffee machine here, good care and company, as always.
You can’t get a VA Volunteer to push your wheelchair?
Well J.D. I have to say this about you……
“You’re no Bernath’s Gas Tank.”
😀 ;D
JD. You can go right ahead and frame those last three paragraphs of yours. It’s a timely reminder in these hectic and maddening times for all of us to go and sit beside a creek for a while and just listen.
I’m a retired soldier and service connected disabled veteran. My experiences with the VA, for the most part, have not been good. A good example, I have numerous orthopedic injuries. Last year, my knees were giving me a lot of problems. My VA PCP suggested that I take more Ibuprofen. Thanks for nothing. Oh BTW, it took close to four months to get that appointment and advice.
Recently, my left hip has been giving me a lot of problems. I finally got through to the advise nurse. The best they could do would be an appointment with my primary care provider at the end of the year. Let’s hope I’m still able to walk by then.
It’s little wonder I stick with Tricare whenever possible.
BTW, I’m a VA Volunteer and work directly with our hospitalized veterans. I average around 600 hours a year at my local VA Hospital.
Oh well, it could always be worse.
I have had more good experiences with the VA than I ever earned through my service. I had a very unusual condition with my pituitary gland(it runs the endocrine system). The head of Endocrinology missed it completely. But my Russian born and trained primary care doctor caught it and still treats it. I imagine she had a word of prayer with the other doc but will never admit it to me. Anyway she literally saved my life and knows I will not go back to see him.
My first, last, and only experience with the VA came after I retired from the Marine Corps in 1998. I wasted the day all day doing their inventory physical at the Kansas City VA, was told I was 10 percent disability, and told to go down to the admin and get a VA identification card. I did so, and was then told that I rated absolutely nothing from the VA, and never to bother them again. On getting home, I cut the card up and shitcanned it. I have never bothered with them again. My health insurance and Champus/Tricare have been sufficient to the task, but if asked for my opinion, I will vote to kill the VA off altogether, privatize it and let vets go to real doctors at no cost, and the government can pay for THAT. And I suspect it will cost less than paying all the nonperformers the VA has in its ranks.
Remember too, that this is exactly what socialist medicine is all about. They can fuck it up, or just blow it off, and there are absolutely no repercussions to it.