Archive for the 'confusing' Category


I had a really long draft saved (or so I thought) about cycling through the stages of grief. I suppose it’s fitting that it’s lost somewhere in cyberspace. Because that’s pretty much how I feel: lost.

I really don’t want to hear anymore reasons for the result of this election. I’m pretty sure I know the reason. She got fewer votes in the states where it mattered. And whether that was because of trade policies, xenophobia, anti-elitism, poor GOTV efforts, voter ID, misogyny, fake websites, illiteracy, hate-mongering, third parties, apathy, misunderstandings, idiocy, libertarianism or because she said basket of deplorables, I don’t know that I have the capacity to contemplate it anymore. But, it turns out, I have the capacity for a whole lot of anger.

And I am so angry. I cycle through anger like no one’s business.

I’m angry at the woman in my office who reportedly wrote in another woman in our office because – wait for it – she couldn’t vote for a woman for president. I’ll let you marinate on that for a moment. Yes. You read that correctly. Why? Is she a straight-up lady-hater? I don’t know, but her “reasoning” was because “some countries may not want to deal with a woman head-of-state.” Uh, yeah, sure that makes sense. I wish she’d gone ahead and asked a few countries who “don’t want to deal with us” how that works out for them. Also, pretty sure it worked out ok for England with, say, Queen Elizabeth I and Margaret Thatcher. Maybe Angela Merkel could tell us if it’s been a problem for Germany.

I’m angry at Mike Evans. I am all in on these athletes and teams that are taking a stand against Our Bigot in Chief. I love it. It makes me believe maybe we’re not destined for the cliff. And I don’t believe that you aren’t allowed to criticize if you don’t vote. Of course you are. But when you don’t vote, your credibility plummets. And that just sucks. And it sucks because I think, “How many more people woke up last Wednesday incredibly upset at the result, but sat the election out? How many could have made the difference?”

And I’m really angry at people who say that this is “how it works” and that it’s just an election and in four years, there will be another one. Because this isn’t just how it works. Or it isn’t supposed to anyway. We aren’t supposed to be discussing Muslim registries on television. We aren’t supposed to have a racial supremacist movement with its foot in the most important office in the universe. We aren’t supposed to have a sexual predator at the helm. This is insane. And when people act like the reaction to this insanity is dramatic, I find my head spinning with dizzying rage.

I’m terrified that this is it. That this election is the real signal of the beginning of the demise of our republic. I can’t help but see the parallels to Athens and Rome and so many other past great empires. Like them, we’ve had many people see the writing on the wall and warn us. But, like them, people voted against their self-interest, refusing to see what was before them.

I’m trying to have hope. I’m reading the words of Demosthenes, who encouraged the Athenians to rally against Philip II. Demosthenes said,

Now in the first place, Athenians, there is no need to despair of our present position, however hopeless it may seem. For that which is worst in the days that are past and gone is just what affords the best assurance for the future. And what is that? It is that your affairs are in this evil plight just because you, men of Athens, utterly fail to do your duty; since surely, were you so placed in spite of every effort on your part, it would be hopeless to look for improvement.

In the next place, bear this in mind. Some of you have been told, others know and remember, how formidable the Spartans were, not many years ago, and yet how at the call of honor and duty you played a part not unworthy of your country, and entered the lists against them in defense of your rights. I remind you of this, Athenians, because I want you to know and realize that, as no danger can assail you while you are on your guard, so if you are remiss no success can attend you. Learn a lesson from the former strength of the Lacedaemonians, which you mastered by strict attention to your affairs, and the present arrogance of our enemy, which discomposes us because we ignore every call of duty.

But if anyone here, Athenians, is inclined to think Philip too formidable, having regard to the extent of his existing resources and to our loss of all our strongholds, he is indeed right, yet he must reflect that we too, men of Athens, once held Pydna, Potidaea, and Methone and had in our own hands all the surrounding territory, and that many of the native tribes now in his service were then free and independent and were indeed more inclined to side with us than with Philip.

If, therefore, Philip had then come to the conclusion that it was a difficult task to fight the Athenians while they held such strong outposts in his own territory and he was destitute of allies, in that case he would never have gained his present successes, never acquired his present power. But, men of Athens, Philip saw clearly that all these outposts were but the open prizes of war, that by natural right the property of the absent belongs to those who are on the spot, and the property of the careless to those who can face toil and danger.

It was precisely by acting on this principle that he has mastered and now holds them all. Some he has seized by right of arms, others he has won by alliance and friendship. For indeed alliance and respect are willingly offered by all men to those whom they see ready and prompt to take action.

And you too, men of Athens, if you are willing to adopt this principle, now if never before, if each citizen is ready to throw off his diffidence and serve the state as he ought and as he best may, the rich man paying, the strong man fighting, if, briefly and plainly, you will consent to become your own masters, and if each man will cease to expect that, while he does nothing himself, his neighbor will do everything for him, then, God willing, you will recover your own, you will restore what has been frittered away, and you will turn the tables upon Philip.

Do not believe that his present power is fixed and unchangeable like that of a god. No, men of Athens; he is a mark for the hatred and fear and envy even of those who now seem devoted to him. One must assume that even his adherents are subject to the same passions as any other men. At present, however, all these feelings are repressed and have no outlet, thanks to your indolence and apathy, which I urge you to throw off at once.

For observe, Athenians, the height to which the fellow’s insolence has soared; he leaves you no choice of action or inaction; he blusters and talks big, according to all accounts; he cannot rest content with what he has conquered; he is always taking in more, everywhere casting his net round us, while we sit idle and do nothing.

When, Athenians, will you take the necessary action? What are you waiting for? Until you are compelled, I presume. But what are we to think of what is happening now? For my own part I think that for a free people there can be no greater compulsion than shame for their position. Or tell me, are you content to run round and ask one another, “Is there any news today?” Could there be any news more startling than that a Macedonian is triumphing over Athenians and settling the destiny of Hellas?

“Is Philip dead?” you ask. “No, indeed; but he is ill.” And what is that to you? Even if something happens to him, you will soon raise up a second Philip, if that is the way you attend to your affairs; for even this Philip has not grown great through his own unaided strength so much as through our carelessness.

Nor is this all. If anything happened to him, or if Fortune, which always cares for us better than we care for ourselves, should bring that result about, remember that you must be on the spot if you want to take advantage of the general confusion and to control the situation at your pleasure; but in your present condition you would be unable, even if the opportunity offered, to take over Amphipolis, having neither a force nor a policy ready to hand.

Well, assuming that you are thoroughly convinced that you must all be ready and willing to make this necessary effort, I say no more on that point. But as to the nature and size of the force which I think adequate to relieve the situation, the means of defraying the cost, and the best and speediest method of providing for its equipment, I shall now endeavor to state my views, making just this appeal to you, Athenians. . . .

It seems to me, Athenians, as if some god, out of very shame for the conduct of our city, had inspired Philip with this activity. For if he did nothing more, but were willing to rest satisfied with what he has already captured and subdued, I believe some of you would be quite content with what must bring the deepest disgrace upon us and brand us as a nation of cowards. But by always attempting something new, always grasping at more power, he may possibly rouse even you, if you have not utterly abandoned hope.

Personally I am surprised that none of you, Athenians, is distressed and angry to find that at the beginning of the war our aim was to punish Philip, but at the end it is to escape injury at his hands. But surely it is obvious that he will not stop, unless someone stops him. And is that what we are to wait for? Do you fancy that all is well, if you dispatch an unmanned fleet and the vague hope of some deliverer?

Shall we not man the fleet ourselves? Shall we not take the field with at least a proportion of native troops, even now, if never before? Shall we not sail against his territory? “Where then are we to go and anchor?” someone has asked. The progress of the war, men of Athens, will itself discover the weak places in his front, if we make the effort; but if we sit here at home listening to the abuse and mutual recriminations of the orators, there is not the slightest chance of our getting anything done that ought to be done. . . .

Truly, men of Athens, I do think that Philip is drunk with the magnitude of his achievements and dreams of further triumphs, when, elated by his success, he finds that there is none to bar his way; but I cannot for a moment believe that he is deliberately acting in such a way that all the fools at Athens know what he is going to do next. For of all fools the rumor-mongers are the worst.

But if, putting rumors aside, we recognize that this man is our enemy, who has for years been robbing and insulting us, that wherever we once hoped to find help we have found hindrance, that the future lies in our own hands, and if we refuse to fight now in Thrace, we shall perhaps be forced to fight here at home — if, I say, we recognize these facts, then we shall have done with idle words and shall come to a right decision. Our business is not to speculate on what the future may bring forth, but to be certain that it will bring disaster, unless you face the facts and consent to do your duty.

For my own part, I have never yet chosen to court your favor by saying anything that I was not quite convinced would be to your advantage; and today, keeping nothing back, I have given free utterance to my plain sentiments. Yet, certain as I am that it is to your interest to receive the best advice, I could have wished that I were equally certain that to offer such advice is also to the interest of the speaker; for then I should have felt much happier. But, as it is, in the uncertainty of what the result of my proposal may be for myself, yet in the conviction that it will be to your interest to adopt it, I have ventured to address you. Whatever shall be to the advantage of all, may that prevail!

So, let’s fight this monster with everything that we have. And let’s hope that at the end of the day, the republic holds and there’s still clean water and air for all.


Holy Toledo

So, the last couple of weeks? Oy vey, you know what I’m saying? You probably do – because I haven’t really been able to shut up about it – but let me elaborate in writing. Thanks in advance.

On Sunday, April 26, my mom and Mollybear & Phoebe and I were heading out of Shawano (after attending my godson’s spectacular first communion party) when I slumped over in the driver’s seat (because I was driving) and became unconscious. I can’t imagine what this must have been like for my mom. I know that she, and the rest of my family, handled it beautifully, though, because when Molly talks about it she laughs and says that I got sick and that she and Steve then went to a party and ate hot dogs. I remember nothing of the event itself and even the moments after are very foggy. For example, I distinctly remember throwing up in the ambulance, but I remember neither walking to the ambulance, which I’m told I did, nor getting from the ambulance to the hospital bed. While at the hospital (or medical center, as I guess it’s more accurately called), I had a bunch of heart, brain and blood tests. Nothing looked too out of the ordinary and, after a decent amount of time with Ibuprofen and fluids inside of me, I was sent on my way with a diagnosis of having suffered a grand mal seizure and two directions: (1) no driving for three months and (2) call my primary doctor the next day to get a referral to neurology.

On Monday, April 27, I called my primary physician. I told the nurse that I was directed to ask for a referral to neurology. Instead, I was told that I would first need to be seen by an internist and the next available appointment for that wasn’t until Friday. Uh, ok. I took Monday, Tuesday and part of Wednesday off of work because I couldn’t move without significant muscular pain (for example, my jaw hurt like the dickens and moving from one position to another would have been comical if it weren’t so painful) and I was uncommonly sleepy. When Friday came, I went through the hoops of the appointment. I relayed everything that I remembered and I gave a written report of what my mom had observed. I brought all of the paperwork from Shawano, including a DVD of the CT scan of my brain. I just kept thinking, “Answer the questions and we’ll move this along.” I did all of the muscle tests that were asked of me (push here, resist here, etc). The appointment must have lasted an hour. At the end of it? I was referred to a neurologist. First, though, she asked that I do more blood tests and another EKG. I complied and the tests were all returned with mostly normal results (“Good news!” read the note to me). I was told that Neurology (I’m going to capitalize it from now on, just because) would call me, but that if I didn’t hear from them by Tuesday, I should call the office.

Tick, tock.

On Monday, May 4, I woke up with a horrible sore throat. I mean, ouch. But, I also had a bit of a cold so I thought that maybe it was related. We took Mollybear in for a dental appointment (during which she sat on my lap and cried, “I want my mommy!” – always confusing for everyone), then to school and then we went to work. My throat pain wasn’t abating and I realized I’d had chills throughout the night. Hmm. I called the doctor and made an appointment, worrying that it might be strep. I had my performance review at work at 10 and asked Aaron to take me home around maybe 11. I just wasn’t feeling right. I slept for a bit and Aaron picked me up at 2:30 to take me to my appointment. I went in, described my symptoms and was told, unequivocally, that I did not have strep throat. No swab was taken, no test performed. Although the resident said some of my lymph nodes were a little swollen, he was certain it was not strep, but was instead viral. He told me to come back if it got worse. I went home and felt kinda embarrassed. When I woke up on Tuesday, I felt no change in my condition, but I certainly felt like something was wrong. Even if this was *just* viral, it wasn’t feeling very good. I needed to stay home. As the day went on, things got worse. The pain in my throat extended up to my ear. It no longer hurt only when I swallowed, but all the time. I measured a temperature of 100.6. This just couldn’t be right. But I’d felt dismissed the day before, so I doubted myself and continued to hope that the pain would subside soon.

Tick, tock.

On Tuesday afternoon, I called my primary doctor’s office to relay that I had not yet heard from Neurology. The response? Here’s their number. Uh, ok. So, I called Neurology and explained the situation. The nice woman on the other end of the phone said, “Well, we’ve actually asked your doctor to request a couple of tests be performed before we see you and she has not yet ordered those tests. Let me transfer you back to their office, but I’ll explain to them first what we need.” So, I get transferred back and the guy to whom I’m transferred said to me – earnestly – “Ok, great, I’ll get the ball rolling on this!” Uh, ok. It’s been nine days now since I had the seizure.

Tick, tock.

On Wednesday, May 6, I woke up and felt terrible. Every time I swallowed, my body made a large jerking motion to try to offset the pain. I couldn’t talk without pain. I couldn’t breathe without pain. Whatever this was, I needed help. Ibuprofen hadn’t alleviated any discomfort since Monday evening. Enough is enough. I just couldn’t take it anymore. We dropped Molly off at school (well, AO did; I was far too reluctant to go near all of those kids) and he took me to Urgent Care. I walked in and asked to be seen. The woman at registration was so kind. The nurse who led me back to the exam room was mostly nice, but when I requested that we skip the scale – honestly, since turning 39 I feel more confident in asking to skip the scale at most appointments, but why on earth would anyone need to be weighed to determine if they have strep? Plus, I’d had it! I didn’t want to take any more time to do any of this nonsense! – she said, “Ok, I can put down that you refused.” Uh, ok, put that down. You do that. The nurse took my blood pressure and pulse and temperature (100 even) and became more sympathetic as her tasks wore on. She took a swab of my throat and left. The NP then came in and I almost started to cry immediately. She was so kind and caring and she listened so well. She looked at my throat and told me that no matter what the test results were, she was getting me medicine because things looked terrible. In about three minutes’ time, the test results came back. Positive. I had strep. I actually started to cry. I felt so validated. She sent me on my way with a prescription for penicillin, three Ibuprofen and a bottle of apple juice. Praise modern medicine and health care providers who listen.

I went home. She said that I needed to stay home for 24 hours. While I didn’t feel immediately better physically, I felt entirely different mentally. I felt listened to. I felt respected. I felt, weirdly maybe, vindicated.

This morning, Thursday, May 7, I realized that I had missed a phone call from my doctor’s office that came in yesterday after 4 p.m. The voice mail just said to return the call from someone I’ll call Jennifer. Around 8:15 a.m., on the way to take Molly to school, I returned the call. I was told that Jennifer was busy, but she would call me back. Around 11:20, Jennifer called back to tell me that Neurology had requested an EKG and an EEG. She said that I could come in anytime for an EKG, but that I’d have to wait for a call from a specialized scheduler for the EEG test. Ok, I thought, kinda puzzled. I hung up the phone, relayed the info to Aaron via text, and quickly checked MyChart. I thought, “Didn’t I have an EKG on Friday? Isn’t that what that was? And didn’t I have one in Shawano? Why would I now need a third one? And why would Neuro want yet another one?” I quickly called my doctor’s office back and – against all odds! – was actually able to speak to Jennifer during this same phone call! I said, “I think I had an EKG on Friday. I think Dr. X ordered it.” Jennifer gave me a weird answer to something that I hadn’t said, but eventually confirmed, yes, indeed, I had had an EKG on Friday and, oh wait, that’s not what Neuro had asked for at all. Turns out, Neuro had asked for an EEG and an MRI of my head, something my doctor had not previously ordered. Oops! Ok, they will get on that now (four days after Neuro had requested it) and I will, once again, wait for a specialty scheduler to call me.

Tick. Effing. Tock.

[And yet I know, despite all of this, how lucky I am to live in a time with the medicine we have, in a country in which I can access it, in a city in which it is all around me and with a job that lets me afford its privileges. Still. Holy Toledo there has to be something more efficient.]

In the news

Who’s been following this Rolling Stone-UVA mess? I don’t know what to say. But that’s never stopped me before.

So, I didn’t get around to reading the original piece until yesterday. Like probably everyone else who read it, I thought, “Wow. UVA has a real problem on its hands. I mean, those fight song lyrics alone call for a federal investigation.” After I finished the article, I quickly read Slate’s take on it. In reading the first couple of paragraph’s of the Slate piece, I thought, “Well, sure, maybe Erdely should have made an attempt to contact the alleged perps, but really the story isn’t about ‘Jackie,’ it’s about the culture of rape at UVA, right?” But then as I got to page two of the article, I realized that Rosin and Benedikt were right: if “Jackie” isn’t credible, there goes the story. Does UVA have an obligation to address crimes that didn’t happen? Uh, of course not. So, I found myself troubled by the whole thing, asking my friend at happy hour, “What the hell happened?”

And just now Rolling Stone has hedged its defense of its story.

And now I really don’t know what to make of the whole thing. What obligation does RS have to explain to us the inconsistencies it references in its veiled “apology”? Should we just let the story die? How does UVA respond to this? How does “Jackie”? How do we?


UPDATE: The WaPo has details on the problems with the RS story. I admit that this has a larger-scale Audrey Seiler feel to it. Jackie is clearly struggling, but it doesn’t seem like it’s because of a gang rape at a fraternity during her freshman year at college. Ugh. What a mess.

March 2023

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