Defunding Police and Missionary Work

             I wish I had taken the time to record my thoughts and try to transcribe them instead of the pathetic attempt to post the following: 

          Jenna has an assignment due today.  She asked if I could bounce around some ideas in order to help her.  The topic is “Defunding the Police – Why or Why Not?” Her thoughts mirrored my own when the subject started making its way around facebook.

          “Why would we defund the police?  That is so wrong.  It’s their job to serve and protect us.  Why would we want to take that away?”

          I obviously had not understood why so many seemed to support it until I saw this political cartoon 

this was shared on facebook.  Unfortunately I am
 unable to cite its orginal source but would like to know

Defunding the police is not the same as abolishing. 

          Have you ever watched “Little House on the Prairie” or westerns in which there is only one doctor in town.  A jack of all trades one might say.  His job was to cure whatever ailed the citizens whether it be a common cold, the fever, skin rashes, bullet wounds, delivering babies . . . a doctor was expected to know it all and cater to all regardless of age.  And though many doctors may have known a little about so much of what was required or expected the doctor did not everything. 

          Today we have gynecologists, pediatricians, Ophthalmologists, podiatrists, Dermatologists, cardiologists . . . the list goes on and on.  Each doctor specializes in a certain field.  I think it is better to have multiple doctors that cater to something specific than just one who tries to do it all. I think it is the same with the police.  Many signed up with a specific goal in mind without having been trained for every aspect one might associate with police work.  We need to spread the funds each to whatever specialty is required.

          We have opinions on why we should defund the police or why we should not defund the police. I was most curious about how the police themselves felt about it. I do have friends in the law enforcement and would like to support them. I watched this video chat with Lee Adams from Vice (here) in which he addresses eight different law enforcement officers from across the nation. 

Even among those that are in law enforcement there are still conflicting ideas about why or why not reallocate the taxpayers money. Though they agree on some things there are still other items in which their opinions vary.

         I had been asked to attend a missionary training meeting in Roseburg last night. I attended the meeting virtually.  As the meeting progressed my mind reflected upon how to best utilize each member of the community. I made a silent comparison with Jenna’s assignment and the leadership training that was being suggested – discussions I had already had as a missionary and a ward mission leader. 

Two videos were shown – both which I had seen before.  The focus is on ward involvement.  The story unfolds as a man (I think his name is Juan) loses his job and doesn’t know how he will tell his wife.  On the same day he meets with the missionaries.  They start teaching him and his life is changed.  He introduces the gospel to his wife, Julia.  We are asked how we as a ward will be able to include them into our fold.

          Juan is computer savvy and is introduced to someone in the church who is not.  The missionaries ask Juan to utilize his talents to assist ward members – an act of service.  How can we, in return, help Juan. Introduce him to someone who can relate.  Same with the Relief Society and Julia (Juan’s wife).  When we are in ward correlation or missionary meetings how can we involve each organization?  Who would be a good fit?  I get that.  I understood that as a missionary. 

             I was happy about my decision to attend virtually rather than in person as Roland (who hasn’t felt well) would have had to drive me as I cannot see at night. I can’t say that I learned anything new. I was disappointed that today’s situation had not been addressed as we now have to reach out to others in more creative ways than handshakes and personal introductions.  We have to respect one another’s boundaries by wearing masks and keeping our distance – which for me does not give off good vibes of welcoming. I know I can contact others over the phone or through social media if I have that information – which I don’t.

             It’s almost as though we are dehumanized with the mask and staying six feet apart – although I support the outline given.  I just find it hard to reach out when I don’t feel a foundation of the initial start.  I miss connecting with members – let alone those who are not.  Hopefully they can feel the Spirit through the meetings themselves and may understand that human contact will come – we just don’t know when.

I Was Hoping for Urgent Care – Not U-Wait While We Care for Everybody Behind You

WARNING:  Although I do not provide all the details, some of what I’ve written provides a gross picture

      What a glorious Mothers’ Day NOT – on top of the cough and leaky bladder I was having aches and pains all over my body.  I couldn’t get comfortable whereas I could sleep for very long.  I haven’t been restless before when I am sleeping in a reclining position.  At least not that I know of.  Sheets were pulled away from the mattress.  I’d have a pillow fort beneath my feet.  If I had been given the option to die, I would have taken it.

            I’d been scheduled to work both yesterday and today, but took myself out of the subbing position and left a message with the school.  Soon after I left my message, I received a call from another aid seeing if I can work her shift.  When I returned her call and she heard my voice introduce myself, she didn’t even need to explain.  It was obvious that I was not in a position to work for anyone – and yet I had had four opportunities and ended up saying “no” to all four.  I would have worked for free with the behavior challenged youth than to feel the way I was feeling.  I would have rather gone to the dentist or another tubular pregnancy.
           
            Yesterday I called a health center claiming to provide urgent care.  I don’t know what their definition of “urgent” is, but it is definitely NOT the same as mine.  They said they had a 9:40 cancellation.  Okay, that should get me home to attend the live lecture which starts at 11:00.  WRONG!  I would have been home at 10:20 if the appointment had meant anything.

            I counted eight people come in behind me.  Eight! They would come and go. One man came in and they greeted him with “Oh, you’re early.  Your appointment is not until 11:00.”  He was still seen before me!  Crimeny!

            It may not have been so bad nor may I have complained but I was feeling so awful.  There was a sign for coughers and sneezers to please wear a mask, which I did.  Only not fully at first.  I had come in early in order to fill out the paperwork – which actually had not taken that much time.  If I covered my nose, the air would fog up my glasses and I couldn’t see.  But when the paperwork was filled out and hande in, I covered my nose in addition to my mouth.  I had meant to bring in my puzzle book - I mean what person doesn’t have to wait at the doctor’s office?  At least six of the people behind me!  They even took the only other person wearing a mask before they took me.  What gives!  I just wanted a prescription for a Z pack. Why would they not want to take the masked patients first just to send them away all that much sooner?
 

            I went to the desk to ask if I had been forgotten about – I hadn’t.  Not everybody is seen by the same doctor and apparently, I was there for a specific person and not a “next-available” situation.  I visualized Tim Conway waiting on Harvey Korman in a skit that had done on the Carol Burnett show (here).  Meanwhile, I had a wall of mucus between my face and the stupid mask.  I needed to clean myself.  After the nurse had to my weight, height, pulse, etc. I asked if I could take off my mask and clean myself up.  

        She allowed me to do so, but immediately replaced my mucus-filled mask with a fresh one.  I liked the second one better.  I did not have to wait in the patient room near as long as I had in the foyer.  The doctor – who appeared as though he has already and did move a bit quicker than Tim Conway’s character – spent all of fifteen minutes with me – if that.  I have bronchitis, wasn’t breathing correctly (that’s a given.  I think my breathing gets harder as I age;  I think I have small pipes), high pulse rate (I honestly don’t know where that had come from unless it was rage from having had to wait) and a slight fever.

            He called in a prescription for a Z pack and small pills which resembles fish eggs and it’s supposed to suppress my cough – which I suppose it’s done somewhat.  At least the cough no longer seems to connect to my bladder.  Last night my fever broke and must still be breaking as it is less than 55 degrees outside and I feel like I’m in an over.  The clothes I had on this morning have been washed along with my bedding as everything was overly damp this morning.

            My last class started yesterday, but I have not participated in any of it until today.  The subject is the psychology of the brain – or at least our focus for this week’s discussion is on the brain.  Each part of the brain has a name and a function.  Trying to absorb it all is like learning a new language.  I don’t think it’s as complicated as accounting, but by the time I get it figured out, the course will be done. 

            So I am feeling a lot better today than the last three, but still not 100%.  I hope to by tomorrow.  I have two more sub days lined up for Thursday and Friday.  I hope that I will feel up to it.  Right now I do not.  But if I progress as quickly as yesterday versus today, I will be ready to return to work on Thursday.

Technology at the Doctors

                This wasn't even one of the posts I had considered writing yesterday - and so I still have those thoughts to put together.

            When we first moved to Myrtle Creek, we had looked into a health clinic.  Certainly we wouldn't have to go all the way to Roseburg if a check-up was needed.  In order to establish credibility, the staff expected a full physical in several visits.  Okay, my co-pay is not that outrageous, but when I am going to the doctor four to six times in one month to create a doctor/patient relationship, that is ridiculous.  I can't afford that!  I've been blessed with pretty good health.  I go to the doctors perhaps once a year.  I don't need to go every blessed week.   Needless to say, I did not ever complete what had been expected.
           Because I had gone an entire year without visitation, I couldn't even get in last year.  What the heck?  Why had I bothered going through such turmoil to begin with if it wasn't going to fulfill my needs.  I only needed a Z-pack.  I can't believe I was able to get in this year, but once again, I just did not wish to go all the way to Roseburg.
            I was interested in the electronic gadget which has replaced the clipboard and paperwork.  It's kind of cool.

Payments can also be made from this same devise

            It was only this morning that I noticed the large microphone - a communication device to talk to another party on the other side of the screen - I'm guessing someone near Mercy Medical Center in Roseburg. 

So that's the reason for all the visits - I feel like I have single-handedly paid for at least one of the devices that are used.

Stage Five and Positive Reinforcement

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I went out to take mom to the eye doctor.  She was a lot more pleasant than she had been when I took her to the doctor last week.  Instead of sulking and being angry about the circumstance, she was quite overjoyed and quite surprised that I had come – for in her mind West Valley might as well be on the end of the universe.  She thinks I am quite far away from all civilization.  She thinks I must spend all day driving as I am so far away .

Not once did she ask me to take her home but did ask “Where are we going?” and we proceeded to have the same conversation at least ten times before we arrived.

I asked her if she remembered me taking her to the doctor last week.  Of course she didn’t.  I told her that she had been quite mean to me and the doctor.  She apologized and felt just as bad about hurting me as she felt excitement in seeing me this morning.

She was overwhelmed by all the equipment.  She told the doctor (as she had several times during our drives) that her eyes were fine and that she did not need new glasses. 

I covered the smile that formed on my both when she informed the doctor that she reads A LOT – she used to read all the time.  Sometimes she’d have up to three books going at the same time.  Not now.  She will barely read at all. 

And she DOES need glasses.  Her eyes seem to work okay together, but not separately – especially on her right eye.  Her prescription had changed, but I wasn’t going to argue with her about not needing glasses.  We had already been at the doctor’s office too long.  She was anxious to leave.

Could I possibly use the same trick on her that I had used last week when I brought her back to Alpine Ridge?  She actually asked me if that is where I lived.  “No.”

We went inside.  She was greeted by those behind the front desk.  “How was your doctor’s appointment?”

Who were these people and how did they know she had just been to the doctor?

“Do I live here?”  She asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because  you need consistency.  You need to be safe.  And you have friends here.”

I had hung up a sign for her that let her know that very same thing and that she is home.  Five sentences all written in first person.

She wanted me to sit down and have lunch with her, but I needed to go.  I really wanted to finish hanging pictures in her room.  But I only got four up.  I had a broccoli salad and then I left.  And she was sulking.  But nothing like last week when I had arrived.

Corey and I talked over the phone several times throughout the day.  Corey was talking about the seven stages that one with dementia will go through.  At present she seems to be in the hoarding stage and resorting to a child like mind.  That is stage five.  Probably the funnest stage for the family to go through.

Our final conversation was his report about his latest conversation with mom.  She said that she thought she should stay.  She had lived in the facility before and was back.  She thinks about three years. (It’s been three months – total)

I was so happy to hear that.  We both hope so much that she will go with these feelings and continue to believe she would like to stay and not focus so much on trying to escape.  We will have to more stages to get through.  May God be with us all.

Is There a Doctor in the House?

As a child I thought that going to our doctor was an okay deal.  Dr. Spring kept a treasure chest full of toys for his patients to choose from after their visits.  I don’t remember being afraid or not wanting to go to the doctors.

 Going to the doctor’s also meant going downtown.  As a kid I thought downtown outings were way cool.  And so was riding on the freeway (my perspective has changed A LOT) I would much rather go to the doctor any day than to go to the dentist (even as an adult)

Jenna is a lot like me in so many ways – but not when it comes to doctor/dentist preference.  Jenna LOVES to go to the dentist (seriously) and squirms at the very mention of the doctor. 

I like Jenna’s doctor.  I think she’s nice.  But Jenna’s big hang up is with getting shots.  She used to be so brave when she was a baby. I don’t know why she is so squeamish about shots but has no problem with having tools in her mouth.

Before Jenna was even born, I was advised to seek out a pediatrician.  There were three in the same complex as my obstetrician.  Two of them had names that I couldn’t even pronounce.  Not that that should be a deciding factor – I just thought it would be nice if I could actually pronounce the name of Jenna’s doctor.  But only one of the three doctors were taking patients – the one with the four syllable name – that I still have troubles pronouncing.  I make appointments with Dr. Jill (first name) as I don’t have a problem with her first name.

Ironically it was the Dr. Morgan (the one whose name I could pronounce) who was the one who showed up after Jenna was born – to order instructions and “boss me around” – which didn’t go over greatly with me.  I decided that I was happy that she wasn’t taking new patients and hoped I would like Jenna’s doctor better.

I did.  She saw us the next day.  She was actually so different from the first.  But when Jenna was two we had to go back to Dr. Morgan because Dr. Jill had gone out of town.  Dr. Morgan was much more civil.  Nice in fact.  Much different from the doctor I had met in the hospital who was barking orders at me as though I was an imbecile.

It is always the assistants who give the shots.  Jenna cried though she tried to be brave.  When Dr. Morgan returned, Jenna smiled at her through her tears and Dr. Morgan smiled back and said she was glad to see that Jenna wasn’t mad at her. And I was glad to see that Dr. Morgan was smiling too and wasn’t the drill sergeant she had come across as at the hospital.

We start out life with doctors who are much older than us – sometimes the very age or even older than our parents.  As we get older, our doctors retire forcing us to find doctors who are often much younger than ourselves.  Like a father time and baby New Year thing. 

It’s no longer mom who takes her children to the doctor.  Her children are taking her now.  I understand that is a post all by itself.