Yo-Yo With Short String

Some time ago I posted about the need to moderate comments. Here is a prime example of what has to be filtered out. It was submitted to my post on the Speedex S-19 (which, by the way, I still intend to restore):

"Thank you for the auspicious writeup. It in reality used to be a leisure account it. Glance complicated to far delivered agreeable from you! However, how could we keep in touch? Look into my weblog :: Forex Trading Demo"(I removed the link)

I suspect someone composed that and then ran it through a web-based (maybe Google?) translator. It was definitely not from a native English speaker. It is the second such attempt to attach a comment to that post.

Oh, well; I cast thee into the Bottomless Bit Bucket, O vile spammy entrapper.

Who's Peeking?

Just fooling around with the Google-y tools for bloggers and looked at the Stats page :

That is a screenshot of where the viewers are from. Hong Kong I can understand. Iran and the UAE? Wonder what it was that I said that aroused their interest. Is Paranoia an island in the South Pacific? Inconceivable! (and I'm not Sicilian).

Getting Spliced

One more task has been completed in the planned movement of the basement wall. The Cat 5 cables that were located in the ceiling box have all been relocated to the side wall and tested. This would have been a good idea even if the wall were not to be moved, since the cables from the router to the ceiling box occasionally lost contact from the movement of the floor joists, especially when the dining room had a big gathering in it. Becoming motivated to move the cables, though, was a major task.

The problem was that two of the cables would need to be completelyy re-run, and five would need to be spliced and extended to the new location. Mickey Axlebender was of the opinion that I should just install male and female connectors and extend them that way, but I was not confident that would work long-term, especially since the plan is to drywall the ceiling.

I decided to splice the cables with solder joints. Drawing inspiration from some web pages showing how the specified twists could be maintained, I began the splicing. The first cable took nearly two hours; I was deliberately going slowly to make certain my work would not create problems.

Each twisted pair was cut and spiced in a stagger pattern, the wire ends twisted and soldered, then clipped short and bent parallel with the cable.

When they were all soldered, the twist pattern for each twisted pair was maintained fairly close to the specs. Perfection was more than I could hope for, but in testing each cable as it was completed, the throughput actually seemed faster than before the splice. That may be imagination, but I think that plugging the cables in horizontally may maintain contact pressure better than plugging vertically and letting the wires hang. In other words, it seems to be working better, but I don't think my solder job had anything to do with that.

The last step was to replace the cable jacket. The jacket that had been stripped off was trimmed to length, split down the side, replaced around the wires, and secured with electrician's tape.

Another job finished that hurt more to think about starting than actually doing.

"We must change."

"We must change."

Those were the words of President Obama at Newtown (CT) High School on 12/16/2012. Mr. President, you are right. This nation has become a cesspool of iniquity, and as First Citizen, you must be the first to change. It is as you said,

"No single law -- no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world, or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society.

But that can’t be an excuse for inaction. Surely, we can do better than this. If there is even one step we can take to save another child, or another parent, or another town, from the grief that has visited Tucson, and Aurora, and Oak Creek, and Newtown, and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that -- then surely we have an obligation to try. "

The Bible is clear on this; all have sinned and failed to measure up to God's standards. National repentance is in order, beginning at the office of the President.

God demands that nations practice justice. His summary of the sole requirement He lays on mankind is threefold:

1. do justly,
2. love mercy,
3. walk humbly with God.

America, beginning at the office of the Presidency, has refused those requirements. If you want meaningful change, Mr. President, you must lead the way in repenting of both your personal sin and the Nation's.

Do justly. Cease the murder of the innocent unborn. Cease the execution of citizens without bringing them to trial. Cease taking from one group to give to another. Cease showing favoritism based on skin color or belief or political advantage. Equality was a shining attribute of America in days past; let us return to treating everyone equally.

Love mercy. Cease the jailing of citizens, and the confiscation of their property simply because they have been too weak to conform to laws which have been enacted to protect them from themselves. Cease the spending beyond the ability to fund it, which causes future generations to inherit debts which will leave them enslaved. Cease the persecution of individuals who run afoul of laws designed to force social change, and instead use your own example and the soapbox afforded by your position to preach the benefits of caring for our neighbors.

Walk humbly with God. America has done great things with her wealth that was provided by God. This land was blessed with abundant natural resources, beneficial climates for varied crops and enterprises, and a foundation in a belief that God provides all things necessary for prosperity. America has grown arrogant and proud because no other nation on earth has been able to compete against her militarily or economically for almost a century. Pride goes before a fall. God has provided undeserved forgiveness through His grace. He would have us forgive those who have harmed or attempted to harm us, and not try to exact revenge.

You claim to be a Christian, Mr. President? The words of Jesus should affect your behavior. Never forget that He said that if we do not forgive others, we will not be forgiven. Never be so proud to forget that vengeance does not belong to the office of the President of the United States, but to God. Never forget that Jesus does not force people into His Kingdom, but rather invites them. Never forget the most basic message Jesus had to preach -- "Repent".

"These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change." Indeed.

to "...communicate forget not..."

There has been many an evening when I have left work a bit late in order to finish off email correspondence with clients and/or contractors. I long ago realized that even a short break in communication can cause serious problems when a correspondent lacks the information to proceed in the right direction. Thus the saga of my past weekend.

It began simply enough on Wednesday, with a routine annual physical. My doctor noted some things on an ECG that he had not seen before, and asked me to wear a Holter monitor for 24 hours to record my heart rhythm during my normal daily activities. This I did, returning the monitor to the hospital about noon on Friday.

The day finished, I headed home, ate supper, and got ready to continue preparing the car for a quick trip north on Saturday. About 7:00 PM, I received a phone call from my doctor's partner in practice -- my doctor was apparently very much off-call that evening -- telling me that I needed to go directly to the emergency room at AGMC. I asked him why, since I was feeling quite well. He told me that the doctor who had read the Holter monitor was extremely concerned that my heart could stop and I could die at any moment.

Those who know me well know that I have maintained that very thing for quite some time. The human heart stops after every beat, and by the grace of God, it then takes another squeeze. That stop is the only rest it gets in a person's entire life. I find that miraculous, others find it terrifying.

During the phone call I was asked several times if I was having any symptoms, such as shortness of breath or chest pains. I replied that I was not. Apparently that was not believable, since the doctor who read the monitor was a highly regarded expert with much experience. That doctor did examine me 40 and 35 years ago, respectively, long prior to the valve replacement, and he had no knowledge of the subsequent treatment history. At the end of the call, I was informed that the Emergency Room at AGMC had been notified to expect me.

I was less than favorably impressed. I was feeling fine. Telling my Beloved Rib the essence of the call, I jumped in my car and drove off to the auto parts store to pick up some pieces I had ordered the day before. Jesse and I had plans to finish the wheel alignment job on the Sable, and I was set to take Grannie to visit Uncle Sam the next day.

As I was signing for the order, I received a call from Joonyah who asked how I was feeling and informed me that he was on his way over to take me to the ER. Then, as I was driving home, I got a call from Jesse, who asked me where I was. I told him that at that moment I was on the overpass at I-76. He asked what I was doing there; I sensed a bit of alarm in his voice and my perverted sense of humor almost drove me to say, "Getting ready to jump" but the more responsible part of me told him I was heading for home with the parts. He then said he would be at the house shortly.

I arrived home, and was finally persuaded that to ease everyone's mind, I should go to the ER. We went. They were expecting me. I asked if my doctor was aware I was there. They didn't know, but the verdict of the ER cardiologist (who had never seen me before) was that I was in a life-threatening situation. They booked me, gave me a gown, started an IV, and took me to my cell. They asked me about my symptoms, and seemed very unhappy when I said I didn't have any. Obviously, I was not being truthful; if the doctors said I should have symptoms, who was I to disagree?

Oh, and by the way, they had run my health insurance card, and the carrier said that I was not covered; that coverage had lapsed that very day. Now just the day before, at the office, we had been discussing health care premiums and the fact that my Medicare coverage was to become active Saturday, and I was told that the Medicare supplemental PPO coverage would not become active until January 1 and my premiums had already been paid through December 31 under the current plan. No matter; the insurance carrier said my status was inactive.

I was hooked to a monitor and put to bed. At least my Beloved Rib did not forsake me. She slept beside me on the hospital bed all night. In the morning, one of my cardiologist's partners came in to see me, looked at the record from the monitor, listened to my heart, and asked about my symptoms. No chest pain, no shortness of breath? Hmm. He had not been able to find my records in their files, but said that it was possible he had mis-spelled my name. Meanwhile, he did not think that the slow heart rate was very serious, but I had taken my meds just before the Friday night call, and they could account for the the slowness. Because he did not have my records, and was not MY cardiologist, he could not recommend my discharge.

Another doctor stopped by -- the partner of the doctor who had admitted me -- and asked why I was there. At that point, I told him I didn't know. He asked about my symptoms, and again, I got the feeling he did not believe that I was not in distress. He was in the room a total of less than 5 minutes, and said that he would have to wait until my cardiologist recommended my release.

Saturday was spent reading. Joonyah and crew showed up, wanting to know what was going to happen. I had no idea. So we wandered to the nurses' station and asked when my doctor would arrive. I was told that he normally did not make rounds at AGMC. I asked if my cardiologist would be coming in. Again, a negative; he did not make rounds on weekends, and when he did come in, it would only be in the nature of a consultation, since the ER cardiologist had the responsibility of finally signing off on my release, and the GP I had been assigned in the ER would have the responsibility of actually signing the release.

At about this point, I was beginning to have symptoms -- of great irritation. My Rib called my doctor's office, then dialed the emergency number from the recording she got, and explained that we needed to talk to my doctor. Shortly thereafter, his partner called my cell phone and, out of breath and sounding a little unhappy that we had disturbed his Saturday activities, said that indeed my doctor had been informed that I was in the hospital. I was resigned to my imprisonment.

Now up to this point I had been alone in my room. I was comfortable, and Friday night I had slept with just the bedsheet covering my feet. Late Saturday afternoon, the adjoining bed was given to a fellow who was recovering from complete cardiac arrest. His grandson, who had been a lifeguard and had providentially been present at the time, had started CPR immediately. A pacemaker was now installed, and he had been brought up from ICU. Wrapped in blankets, and clutching a pillow to his chest (his ribs had been cracked during CPR), he immediately complained that the room was too warm. His nurse complied, turning the thermostat down from 70° to 65°, and unleashing a cold draft from the ceiling vents. (Beloved Rib would later sneak over, while he was sleeping, and turn it back up to 68°.) Needless to say, I made use of both the sheet and the blanket the next two nights.

Sunday morning, my cardiologist's partner dropped in again, having looked at my file in their office, and basically opined that, in my case, someone might have over-reacted. He felt that my stay was probably a waste of time, seeing that I had a history of a slow heart rate, and I was scheduled for an appointment in their office in a few weeks anyway. Nevertheless, he was not MY cardiologist, and without a recommendation from MY cardiologist, who would not be in until Monday, the ER cardiologist would not sign off on my release. He did authorize putting me back on my blocker, but at a reduced dose.

My assigned GP again dropped by for an obligatory 3 or 4 minute chat, and again seemed very doubtful that I was not feeling any symptoms of distress, especially since my blocker had been withheld on Saturday and my heart rate and blood pressure were now quite high. I was pleasantly surprised by a visit from Art and Sarah Kaufman, who had been visiting one of his cousins in a room a few doors down from mine. I had not seen Art since he found Jesse his house, and we had a brief but very good chat. Mike and Suzi brought Grannie to visit, and Suzi left her tablet with me so I could go on-line (the hospital has an open wireless network for patient/visitor use).

My Beloved Rib had spent two nights sleeping beside me on a hospital bed. I sent her home Sunday night so she could get a better rest in a warm room. At 3:30 in the morning, the nurses came in to change my IV. I said it could wait, I was going home in a few hours. They said no, that it had to be replaced anyway, and they got it done, barely, on their second try. Ouch.

Monday morning was foggy, but I was eager to escape. My cardiologist showed up at about 8:30, said we would take up the discussion at my scheduled appointment, and wrote out the recommendation for my release. I joyfully called for my Beloved Rib to come get me. The hours dragged by. About 2:30, the assigned GP having failed to show up, we mentioned the fact to my nurse. She began calling around the hospital to find out what was delaying my release.

My assigned GP had gone home for the day, early, and had left a list of patients to be seen with another doctor, who eventually showed up in my room about 3:00 and said that he had not been informed that I was to go home, or he would have been in to see me in the morning. Nevertheless, he was empowered to sign my release, which he did, and by 3:30 I was on my way out the door.

A comedy of errors? Perhaps, but I keep reminding myself that God has a purpose in all things. I met some new people, I saw an old friend, I was kept from traveling. Having an abnormal patient in their care may have been a good training exercise for the nurses. Plus, I have had a lesson reinforced : the passage from Hebrews 13:16 (KJV) now has a special meaning for me.