tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72917544738103348902024-02-02T13:10:44.939-08:00Noises from earthDoc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-45461404018173329282022-04-29T13:33:00.002-07:002022-04-29T13:33:36.753-07:00<p> Well, it is finished. After writing and researching and researching and writing, I finally finished<b> Ivory, </b>A<b> </b>story of love and murder. It is set in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Jack, an ex-Army Ranger with issues meets a female elaphantologist, Eloise, (all of the greatest champions and researchers of elephants have been women). Jack is trying to outrun his demons by taking his camera to Africa to photograph wildlife. They establish a relationship based on mutual antagonism. But elephant poachers are killing them for their ivory, a vile, murderous practice. Together they seek to put end to the ivory poaching It gets messy<br /></p>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-55440671972630834812020-01-08T13:15:00.001-08:002020-01-08T13:15:27.899-08:00Do They Know It's Christmastime?Well the holiday season is history. But there is a recurring thing about the holiday that bugs the crap out of me. It's the song by BANDAID titled Do They Know it's Christmastime. A noble effort to raise money for the impoverished around the globe. But there is one line in the song that continues its seasonal wrenching of my soul. It is this: "Thank God it's them instead of you." Really? Is that something you want to thank God about? Wish misfortune on someone else so you can feel better when you open your presents or go to sleep in a warm bed with a tummy full of food? This negates the entire spirit of the song. Later this year when the holidays arrive. Think about this line in the song. You may be repulsed too.Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-61083792101257042982020-01-08T13:01:00.000-08:002020-01-08T13:01:00.905-08:00I'm back<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGXHFSfm4khb3wGXtVTxal09zquE5Tp4boWHRGJRnJCzQAx1iaXWB_Te42w_B93W1bBgACLxXpmO6ILfb_9bWWl67fW3YkRHRRv_gQTJ-DeO9nh1zC5Lyt_GovoM0AtXkkyFPu5Cby3tg/s1600/Wesley+Harden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGXHFSfm4khb3wGXtVTxal09zquE5Tp4boWHRGJRnJCzQAx1iaXWB_Te42w_B93W1bBgACLxXpmO6ILfb_9bWWl67fW3YkRHRRv_gQTJ-DeO9nh1zC5Lyt_GovoM0AtXkkyFPu5Cby3tg/s320/Wesley+Harden.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It's been a while since I've posted anything on this blog. I don't look anything like I used to. I've grown out my hair out like Jeff Bridges in THE BIG LEBOWSKI and I'm older. Perhaps a bit wiser as well.<br />
I have a new granddaughter who is a delight. Beyond a rift with her parents that lasted nearly a year without communication, her birth seemed to resolve everything as Servpro says: like it never even happened.<br />
I have five books now available as ebooks and in paperback. One is actually a trilogy called BOMBING, the culmination of a life-long dream of telling the story of what it was like to fly bombing missions over Occupied Europe and subsequently about the effort to burn Japan to the ground. The first two chronicle the life of John Hollis, a pilot. The first appropriately titled BOMBING and the second, THE BUSINESS OF KILLING continues his journey. The third is titled WHEN WE WERE YOUNG, the story of Hollis's bombardier after he bails out into France. The first two have had excellent reviews. While some Facebook critics harp on the fact that there are so many books on bombing in the Second World War already, I've always believed that there can never be enough words written to describe what went on during the war. Very soon those who took part in that cataclysmic event will all be gone and no one will be alive to tell us as eyewitnesses what happened. Someone needs to keep those voices alive. The trilogy was my way of speaking for them.<br />
My book, entitled HOW COULD YOU is the story of murder and privilege. It is based on true events.<br />
THIRTEEN DAYS is a novella that describes love and loss.<br />
I am currently working on a novel about elephants and poaching. Elephants are so like us, I have found in my research, that killing them is tantamount to murder. It's appropriately called IVORY. It won't be ready for some time.<br />
There are other projects that will keep me writing till I die.<br />
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<br />Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-27712931065297861462017-04-15T10:23:00.001-07:002017-04-15T10:23:15.707-07:00Islam, the New Black
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Islam, the New Black<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I am confused. Any
religion that abides by <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">wonton</span> rape and
riot is no ‘religion of peace,’ one of the most incredible, ignorant statements
ever made. Rape of infidel women and eradication of homosexuality <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">are codified</span> in the Qur’an. You can look it up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Holocaust
and the Jews? How about Holocaust for the Yazidis or any enclave of Christians
in the Middle East? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For
a political movement that thinks political discourse is a contact sport and the
vagina is the seat of all power and reason, the Left shows rigid, almost visceral
intolerance for any opinion but its own. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Which
makes their tacit acceptance of Muslim women in subservient roles, child abuse
manifested as teenage marriage, lopping heads off as a new outdoor sport and
pitching <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">homosexuals</span> off rooftops so
mystifying; especially so in the recent era of mandated equality for each small
group of aggrieved citizens, real or imagined. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can they be true to their faith,
Progressivism, and abide by these dictates of religion? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any religion. Failure to protest is implicit
approval. Their silence speaks volumes about who they really are. Democrats, I mean</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">Were</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">
Episcopalians to suddenly and inexplicably embrace female circumcision as a tenant of their religion, the
outcry would be deafening. <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">Yet the</span> Left steadfastly
embraces abortion as if it is one of the Commandments. Is there a contradiction I am not getting?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">My
explanation is guilt. <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">The Left is driven by an unassuaged
guilt</span>. Huey Long guilt. George Wallace guilt. KKK and lynching guilt. Rosa
Parks to the back of the bus guilt. For Democrats, it is the byproduct of civil
rights self-awareness and the post-Lyndon Johnson America which rendered
millions of people subordinate. Today their guilt is a scream only they can
hear. Still, with all the sordid history of Democrats and <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">race,</span> such hypocritical acceptance should not
be surprising. So, I believe their behavior is either explained by a crushing subliminal
guilt or a bizarre mutation in their collective DNA<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-64805246160488584832017-02-17T04:45:00.001-08:002017-02-17T04:45:14.328-08:00Define Trump<br />
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I've heard it recently stated that President Trump is a nationalist. Some, in contrast, say he is a patriot. They say nationalist like it's a dirty word. Nationalist-Socialist. Does it ring a bell? But are they mutually exclusive? Or in subtle ways, do they go hand in hand? Is this some sort of name-calling?</div>
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After years of being old America is the prime-mover for what is wrong with the world, many citizens find this new attitude refreshing. Trump's critics have had a withering assault on the man since before he took office. It is hard to imagine what might have happened if Obama had gotten the same treatment in his first month is office.</div>
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Just sayin'</div>
Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-22146570195686828552017-02-05T04:54:00.001-08:002017-02-05T04:54:20.514-08:00The NFL's Deflated Balls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today is the Super Bowl. Ho hum. Does anybody outside of New England and Georgia really care? Do we really think Lady Gaga will pass up the opportunity to make a political statement on the nation's biggest stage? I now where my money is. Viewership is down and if you look at the stands there seem to be a lot of empty seats. So why the decline? Politics. The NFL has lost control of their game and may never get it back. Why? No balls.</div>
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Colin Kaepernick decides he is going to take a knee during the anthem. Soon dozens of others are following suit. Instead of saying 'show respect during the anthem or you are benched,' They turn a blind eye and end up giving it tacit approval. Five Dallas police officers are gunned down and the Cowboys were forbidden to honor these fallen men by putting their names on the backs of their helmets by the NFL. Every October teams wear pink for breast cancer. Laudable, I guess but how about purple for pancreatic cancer or brown for colon cancer? Their audience is simply tired of it.</div>
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I wonder if football's best days are behind them. This season I watched nary a game start to finish. </div>
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Don't get me started on concussion protocols or ignoring decades of fan loyalty by moving teams to bigger markets that can afford newer stadiums or all the damned commercials. Even the Romans eventually grew bored of the gladiators. Nice run, NFL. If you had any balls you'd fix this.</div>
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Pitchers and catchers report any day now. Go Cubs.</div>
<br />Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-56921558430150803182017-01-29T13:34:00.000-08:002017-01-29T13:38:58.875-08:00Immigrants<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Immigrants</div>
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I've heard it said that admitting the immigrants/refugees from the chaos in the Middle East is analogous to taking in the Jews escaping Nazi Germany. This is specious. No serious person can deny the horror both faced. The Jews were being rounded up by oppressors in an organized, systematic effort to exterminate them. The muslims in the Syria and elsewhere are being killed by other muslims. Not because of any prejudice but simply because they are in the way. The true analog is the Christians being persecuted by the radical Islamists. My heart goes out to all of these victims. Should we let them in? Sure. As long as they promise not to kill us. </div>
Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-57861136751551183932017-01-24T04:47:00.000-08:002017-01-24T04:47:48.380-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What has happened to us? Has all civil discourse been lost? Can't we have an honest exchange of ideas without spitting on each other or using 'fuck' in every sentence? I think people are so pissed off they can't even think straight. If you want to gauge how the right feels about this, imagine how the left would have felt if, on January 21, 2009, a half million men showed up in Washington in black face...Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-32494342538028716642017-01-05T20:12:00.000-08:002017-01-05T20:12:46.813-08:00Life in Pieces<div style="text-align: justify;">
For anyone who is a student of life and the spectrum of emotions, I suggest the CBS show "Life in Pieces." It is a marvelously crafted set of four short stories (pieces in the musical sense) that describe the triumphs and tragedies of life in the modern age. It never ceases to amaze me how much of life's hubris they can pack into less than thirty minutes (commercial time excluded.) If you haven't given out a shot, try it. You will be generously rewarded.</div>
Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-53079362343535381142017-01-03T18:29:00.002-08:002017-01-03T18:29:57.820-08:00The Spirit of Christmas<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Spirit of Christmas</span></div>
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This was a terrific Christmas. I was surrounded by my family and friends. Made out well in the gift department. Drank some wine, a little bourbon. I made a big fuss as I always do trying to achieve perfection for my family. That's the way I remembered Christmas growing up. Mom and Dad always made a fuss. Spent more than they could afford for their three boys. </div>
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But every time the gifts were opened and the excitement had settled, my dad would invariably get maudlin. I never understood why. Then one Christmas, when he figured I was old enough to understand he tell me his Christmas story. It was the winter of 1944-45. They would later refer to it as the Battle of the Bulge. He was an infantryman in the 26th Infantry. It was a desperate battle to relieve Bastogne.</div>
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He and two other fellows were placed in a pillbox on a snow-covered hill. Their sergeant told them to hold this position at all costs. Don't let anybody get past here. Cold and scared, it wasn't long before three Germans, cloaked in snow-capes, appeared out of the fog and ran up the hill. The three Americans opened up and quickly killed the enemy soldiers. The three infantryman ran down the hill and rifled through the bodies looking for personal items as souvenirs. They took wallets, identity tags, Lugers. They were young kids. They returned to their pillbox. </div>
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Dad looked at me, tears in his eyes and said, "And some German mother never knew what happened to her son." He never had a happy Christmas. I never spend a Christmas without thinking of that mother.</div>
Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-28785457072302465682016-12-27T13:47:00.002-08:002016-12-27T13:47:59.357-08:00Book? What book?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Weak and The Strong</div>
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I have completed a new book, The Weak and the Strong. It is part of my "Bombing" series. It follows the life of Nathan Bedford Forrest Sullivan, 'Sully', as he grows up in Virginia and goes to war. He goes from bombardier to French Resistance operative, saboteur and finally assassin. It is a bit long but fast-paced. Extremely well-researched. My previous books, Bombing and The Business of Killing, have been independently published on Amazon Kindle and have been very well received. I have been researching agents and publishing houses. This is a daunting task. If anybody would like to be a beta reader, let me know. I will email it to you. </div>
Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-77105737237382419252011-07-13T08:08:00.000-07:002011-07-13T08:17:04.508-07:00The Pain of Marriage<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cwQe9o9GD5TC3z3L1m3Oxb6ZhQYj962Zjnr9eZTijHucDPiPm3kttK2Ky6kerjxlSJ-GyeswmFkaKRDVHPjEH2pcqmgeR8JYWtvSnCms1CwIUy1CLbhhlUqT-UK06dHrT83Ipd6Chno/s1600/Linds.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628854608586878306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cwQe9o9GD5TC3z3L1m3Oxb6ZhQYj962Zjnr9eZTijHucDPiPm3kttK2Ky6kerjxlSJ-GyeswmFkaKRDVHPjEH2pcqmgeR8JYWtvSnCms1CwIUy1CLbhhlUqT-UK06dHrT83Ipd6Chno/s320/Linds.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>This past weekend, 7-9-11 to be exact, my daughter, Lindsey Regh Harden joined in matrimony Robert Fabel. It is cliched to say you are not losing a daughter but gaining a son. While this may be true the experience can still be rough on a father. The wedding itself was perfect and my daughter was stunning, only out done by her mother, but deep down inside I feel a loss. My children are drifting further and further from us. This, ulitmately, is good for the species, gene pools grow deeped and more diverse as new combinations are born. Even so, there is still a part of it that hurts. But it is a good kind of pain.</div>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-27823918854935656422011-06-27T11:39:00.000-07:002011-06-27T11:44:59.903-07:00Love Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEZeI8pX6DeBOcAAmUkL0XfEoeYicRLiJkU9VCCibzPtobSaAukixQBJcASC_rfJgUlbZUtvqmssMzCMgDtmCgLjHLfpJ0-0jd1z4YMN6m2gkIhJ3F09MupBxpF6FviOC-u3QHoLxLBE/s1600/michelle-bachman-tea-bag.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622971233683442098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEZeI8pX6DeBOcAAmUkL0XfEoeYicRLiJkU9VCCibzPtobSaAukixQBJcASC_rfJgUlbZUtvqmssMzCMgDtmCgLjHLfpJ0-0jd1z4YMN6m2gkIhJ3F09MupBxpF6FviOC-u3QHoLxLBE/s320/michelle-bachman-tea-bag.jpg" /></a> OK, let's move on, folks. Chris, it was a poor judgement in the use of your words. Making such a gaffe doesn't mean you have to apologize. What has it come to? Say something insulting then make it all better by apologizing sincerely? Michelle shows her cahones by not making it all better by saying all is forgiven. I would have liked her even better if she had smiled and said, "Consider the source."<br /><br /><div></div>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-87744377422609398192011-06-16T18:50:00.000-07:002011-06-16T19:18:58.607-07:00A Memory of My Dad<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIfEeUenHjKwsHYkRqQAJpPh_97gQg0uh5K421GejAO26GiQ6jj_-OYUDsruOHoSHLWZZW6dYt6V8ym1otI6BErwEvOVZs_G77wVKdiQA6CuT4TKc4HUWM1SZYKaryp0-iabkpr9uTvY/s1600/Picture+254.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619000350140762514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIfEeUenHjKwsHYkRqQAJpPh_97gQg0uh5K421GejAO26GiQ6jj_-OYUDsruOHoSHLWZZW6dYt6V8ym1otI6BErwEvOVZs_G77wVKdiQA6CuT4TKc4HUWM1SZYKaryp0-iabkpr9uTvY/s320/Picture+254.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br />My favorite war story was one my dad told me. He was with the 26th Infantry Division in Patton's Third Army. My dad's best friend was John Benson who went into the army serving in the Combat Engineers with the First Army. (He claims to have been at the wheel of the first 2 1/2 ton truck onto Omaha Beach but who knows?) They were very close growing up and, living next to each other, were inseperable. They were both a trial and a joy for my dad's mom. She worried terribly about how Benny was making out in the war. To keep her from worrying, my dad told her in every letter he wrote home that he had seen Benny and he was doing fine. He allayed her fears and they both survived the war. In truth, they ran into each other only once, for a few moments in a blown out building near Metz. Their meeting was purely by chance. They did not see each other for the duration. My dad's mom went to her grave never knowing the truth.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">I honestly think that my grandmother thought they were in Europe on a camping trip. She died before I got to know her but they told me she was one of the sweetest persons who ever lived. As he recalled the incident, dad said he was told there was a combat engineer unit nearby and started looking around. He found Benny sitting on the second floor staring across the room at a GI eating limberger cheese. They both talked about the smell of that cheese until the day they died.</div><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-50309497502272971162011-06-06T16:12:00.000-07:002011-06-06T16:19:33.881-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4E0ZgHKc6MDNmCtPitUlt0-G4yCibPLt4unEerxy1QuNjVCsB9CVHsTC4zTmnykw2f6afJK9WMPkNB6oadEtlb7N9XTRpdaaWSPzmU4Nn24-KOPRH14Mk5Szwe8wZyL1q_J8EnMvVngE/s1600/the+unknown.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615249293992857858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4E0ZgHKc6MDNmCtPitUlt0-G4yCibPLt4unEerxy1QuNjVCsB9CVHsTC4zTmnykw2f6afJK9WMPkNB6oadEtlb7N9XTRpdaaWSPzmU4Nn24-KOPRH14Mk5Szwe8wZyL1q_J8EnMvVngE/s320/the+unknown.JPG" /></a> One of the most hallowed places you could ever visit is the Colleville US Cemetary on the bluff above Omaha Beach. Unknown soldier. How can we ever thank them? It goes to show you what one group of people is willing to do for another. God Bless and keep them in His heart. On this Day of Dayskeep them in your hearts too.Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-40225921605276540402011-05-27T21:36:00.000-07:002011-05-27T21:39:08.323-07:00Rough Men<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcprbju_GA_w1VKZXX0boPIEHuHj2TzdfrRFmrLAgU2ccPGe1ZX0KvVK38Gr4XgFPnSKlIQnwIXNgQjdr7MHcfQPc0_0290xaZpC39hLhs6k_yIjhiyDKehIP4CKGsqAIi3RRIqhZVg18/s1600/marines.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 204px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611621597750667250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcprbju_GA_w1VKZXX0boPIEHuHj2TzdfrRFmrLAgU2ccPGe1ZX0KvVK38Gr4XgFPnSKlIQnwIXNgQjdr7MHcfQPc0_0290xaZpC39hLhs6k_yIjhiyDKehIP4CKGsqAIi3RRIqhZVg18/s320/marines.jpg" /></a> We sleep soundly in our beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on our behalf. Churchill<br /><br /><div></div>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-23769193825749690292011-05-27T12:29:00.000-07:002011-05-27T12:36:22.371-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHDPUxoA6igSAfIS1Rr-cuCXHPvDVHEuljelJiiMxQYGdOAkUXcZxlfuTow40V7zEgLTZet54bGAxGHq35IMFe7nGe6eFn1p8MTOAKgdHDSmjmBTUfBLu_XBLKlnLuMlw3e_heElY8KU/s1600/DSC03754.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611481435129006162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHDPUxoA6igSAfIS1Rr-cuCXHPvDVHEuljelJiiMxQYGdOAkUXcZxlfuTow40V7zEgLTZet54bGAxGHq35IMFe7nGe6eFn1p8MTOAKgdHDSmjmBTUfBLu_XBLKlnLuMlw3e_heElY8KU/s320/DSC03754.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>This is on the wall of the Memorial at Coville, France. A few yards from Omaha Beach. Yet another reminded of what one group of people were willing to do for another. Rest in Peace and never be forgotten. </div>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-62788721780747431972011-05-25T06:55:00.000-07:002011-05-25T07:05:13.134-07:00As a surgeon with gray hair, I can say without reservation, as Medicare implodes in 20 years (not next year or the year after) there are really only five steps that can be taken to halt the decline of American health care as we know it.<br />1. Evidence based, compassionate rationing. Should a bed bound 85 year old patient be given a pacemaker just because we can?<br />2. Tort reform. I always base things I do and order on the circumstance of trying to explain on the witness stand why I did or didn't do somehting to a jury not of my peers. So far, it's worked. I have not been sued.<br />3. Get rid of all this paperwork. One chart I just peer-reviewed for a complicated 2 week stay in the hospital was 500 pages long. Standardize all of this so a hospital in Brooklyn is the same as one in Walla Walla.<br />4. Focus the research so that the next expensive test or therapy is affordable and practical.<br />5. Incentivize the practice of medicine so it once again becomes a noble profession and it's doctor-patient not doctor-client...Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-63485492248380246912011-05-20T13:04:00.000-07:002011-05-20T13:13:12.786-07:00Bombing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRdwz6gnb4l_s-boMs-Sc9BQ-zd4TyZCsKqRgwK5TO3cWY8gcW7f4SYPrO7F-t8CFc83JQ2y6qjvkYJbil2MSyR1V8px19SZQERG5BG-1-dXM7mfJ7vEieGWMRMqj2tC0IHz0eTikC8k/s1600/41GO9jyb3%252BL__SL110_.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 77px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 110px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608892677593548610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRdwz6gnb4l_s-boMs-Sc9BQ-zd4TyZCsKqRgwK5TO3cWY8gcW7f4SYPrO7F-t8CFc83JQ2y6qjvkYJbil2MSyR1V8px19SZQERG5BG-1-dXM7mfJ7vEieGWMRMqj2tC0IHz0eTikC8k/s320/41GO9jyb3%252BL__SL110_.jpg" /></a> Some very favorable reviews for the novel. Thank you for all the kind words. The next one, <em>The Business of Killing</em>, is in the works and should be ready by the fall. Philip Roth said, The idea is to turn flesh and blood into literary charcters and literary characters into flesh and blood. Nobody told me it would be this much fun, though. WesDoc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-68177708277820362282010-03-13T08:15:00.000-08:002010-03-13T08:22:02.708-08:00Have a healthy day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0Ehev9TBoxhwlgZT_rQjfNJ53Ar4zNoo3FhtweWRHS85ygX8iwKMVoNWRpS2SrgOOTrJKL25ho4k0jueYnKnHQt4UrbbeNwg5KmWqXnfeJPViA8MyR7TYi3ech5Kfte_bJ6lWhJjW2E/s1600-h/10-08-2006+08%3B05%3B18PM.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448154259339776946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0Ehev9TBoxhwlgZT_rQjfNJ53Ar4zNoo3FhtweWRHS85ygX8iwKMVoNWRpS2SrgOOTrJKL25ho4k0jueYnKnHQt4UrbbeNwg5KmWqXnfeJPViA8MyR7TYi3ech5Kfte_bJ6lWhJjW2E/s320/10-08-2006+08%3B05%3B18PM.bmp" /></a><br /><div>I just thought you should know:</div><br /><div>An Indianapolis doctor's letter to Sen. Bayh about the Bill (Note: Dr. Stephen E. Frazer, MD practices as an anesthesiologist in Indianapolis, IN ) Here is a letter I sent to Senator Bayh.. Feel free to copy it and send it around to all other representatives. -- Stephen Fraser Senator Bayh, As a practicing physician I have major concerns with the health care bill before Congress. I actually have read the bill and am shocked by the brazenness of the government's proposed involvement in the patient-physician relationship. The very idea that the government will dictate and ration patient care is dangerous and certainly not helpful in designing a health care system that works for all. Every physician I work with agrees that we need to fix our health care system, but the proposed bills currently making their way through congress will be a disaster if passed. I ask you respectfully and as a patriotic American to look at the following troubling lines that I have read in the bill. You cannot possibly believe that these proposals are in the best interests of the country and our fellow citizens. Page 22 of the HC Bill: Mandates that the Govt will audit books of all employers that self-insure!!Page 30 Sec 123 of HC bill: THERE WILL BE A GOVT COMMITTEE that decides what treatments/benefits you get.Page 29 lines 4-16 in the HC bill: YOUR HEALTH CARE IS RATIONED!!! Page 42 of HC Bill: The Health Choices Commissioner will choose your HC benefits for you. You have no choice!Page 50 Section 152 in HC bill: HC will be provided to ALL non-US citizens, illegal or otherwise. Page 58 HC Bill: Govt will have real-time access to individuals' finances & a 'National ID Health card' will be issued! (Papers please!) Page 59 HC Bill lines 21-24: Govt will have direct access to your bank accounts for elective funds transfer. (Time for more cash and carry) Page 65 Sec 164: Is a payoff subsidized plan for retirees and their families in unions & community organizations: (ACORN).Page 84 Sec 203 HC bill: Govt mandates ALL benefit packages for private HC plans in the 'Exchange.' Page 85 Line 7 HC Bill: Specifications of Benefit Levels for Plans -- The Govt will ration your health care! Page 91 Lines 4-7 HC Bill: Govt mandates linguistic appropriate services. (Translation: illegal aliens.) Page 95 HC Bill Lines 8-18: The Govt will use groups (i.e. ACORN & Americorps to sign up individuals for Govt HC plan.Page 85 Line 7 HC Bill: Specifications of Benefit Levels for Plans. (AARP members - your health care WILL be rationed!) Page 102 Lines 12-18 HC Bill: Medicaid eligible individuals will be automatically enrolled in Medicaid. (No choice.)Page 12 4 lines 24-25 HC: No company can sue GOVT on price fixing. No "judicial review" against Govt monopoly.Page 127 Lines 1-16 HC Bill: Doctors/ American Medical Association - The Govt will tell YOU what salary you can make.Page 145 Line 15-17: An Employer MUST auto-enroll employees into public option plan. (NO choice!)Page 126 Lines 22-25: Employers MUST pay for HC for part-time employees ANDtheir families. (Employees shouldn't get excited about this as employers will be forced to reduce its work force, benefits, and wages/salaries to cover such a huge expense.)Page 149 Lines 16-24: ANY Employer with payroll 401k & above who does not provide public option will pay 8% tax on all payroll! (See the last comment in parenthesis.) Page 150 Lines 9-13: A business with payroll between $251K & $401K who doesn't provide public option will pay 2-6% tax on all payroll. Page 167 Lines 18-23: ANY individual who doesn't have acceptable HC according to Govt will be taxed 2.5% of income.Page 170 Lines 1-3 HC Bill: Any NONRESIDENT Alien is exempt from individual taxes. (Americans will pay.) (Like always)Page 195 HC Bill: Officers & employees of the GOVT HC Admin.. will have access to ALL Americans' finances and personal records. (I guess so they can 'deduct' their fees) Page 203 Line 14-15 HC: "The tax imposed under this section shall not be treated as tax." (Yes, it really says that!) ( a 'fee' instead) Page 239 Line 14-24 HC Bill: Govt will reduce physician services for Medicaid Seniors. (Low-income and the poor are affected.) Page 241 Line 6-8 HC Bill: Doctors: It doesn't matter what specialty you have trained yourself in -- you will all be paid the same! (Just TRY to tell me that's not Socialism!)Page 253 Line 10-18: The Govt sets the value of a doctor's time, profession, judgment, etc. (Literally-- the value of humans.)Page 265 Sec 1131: The Govt mandates and controls productivity for "private" HC industries. Page 268 Sec 1141: The federal Govt regulates the rental and purchase of power driven wheelchairs. Page 272 SEC. 1145: TREATMENT OF CERTAIN CANCER HOSPITALS - Cancer patients - welcome to rationing! Page 280 Sec 1151: The Govt will penalize hospitals for whatever the Govt deems preventable (i.e...re-admissions).Page 298 Lines 9-11: Doctors: If you treat a patient during initial admission that results in a re-admission -- the Govt will penalize you. Page 317 L 13-20: PROHIBITION on ownership/investment. (The Govt tells doctors what and how much they can own!) Page 317-318 lines 21-25, 1-3: PROHIBITION on expansion. (The Govt is mandating that hospitals cannot expand.) Page 321 2-13: Hospitals have the opportunity to apply for exception BUT community input is required. (Can you say ACORN?) Page 335 L 16-25 Pg 336-339: The Govt mandates establishment of=2 outcome-based measures. (HC the way they want -- rationing.) Page 341 Lines 3-9: The Govt has authority to disqualify Medicare Advance Plans, HMOs, etc. (Forcing people into the Govt plan) Page 354 Sec 1177: The Govt will RESTRICT enrollment of 'special needs people!' Unbelievable! Page 379 Sec 1191: The Govt creates more bureaucracy via a "Tele-Health Advisory Committee." (Can you say HC by phone?) Page 425 Lines 4-12: The Govt mandates "Advance-Care Planning Consult." (Think senior citizens end-of-life patients.) Page 425 Lines 17-19: The Govt will instruct and consult regarding living wills, durable powers of attorney, etc. (And it's mandatory!) Page 425 Lines 22-25, 426 Lines 1-3: The Govt provides an "approved" list of end-of-life resources; guiding you in death. (Also called 'assisted suicide.')(Sounds like Soylent Green to me.) Page 427 Lines 15-24: The Govt mandates a program for orders on "end-of-life." (The Govt has a say in how your life ends!) Page 429 Lines 1-9: An "advanced-care planning consultant" will be used frequently as a patient's health deteriorates. Page 429 Lines 10-12: An "advanced care consultation" may include an ORDER for end-of-life plans.. (AN ORDER TO DIE FROM THE GOVERNMENT?!?) Page 429 Lines 13-25: The GOVT will specify which doctors can write an end-of-life order.. (I wouldn't want to stand before God after getting paid for THAT job!) Page 430 Lines 11-15: The Govt will decide what level of treatment you will have at end-of-life! (Again -- no choice!) Page 469: Community-Based Home Medical Services = Non-Profit Organizations. (Hello? ACORN Medical Services here!?!) Page 489 Sec 1308: The Govt will cover marriage and family therapy. (Which means Govt will insert itself into your marriage even.) Page 494-498: Govt will cover Mental Health Services including defining, creating, and rationing those services. Senator, I guarantee that I personally will do everything possible to inform patients and my fellow physicians about the dangers of the proposed bills you and your colleagues are debating. Furthermore, if you vote for a bill that enforces socialized medicine on the country and destroys the doctor-patient relationship, I will do everything in my power to make sure you lose your job in the next election. Respectfully, Stephen E. Fraser, MD<br /></div>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-80735860068031552352010-02-20T09:03:00.000-08:002010-02-20T09:17:39.648-08:00Change We Can Believe In<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBP0_Aq3oFHRXGcOw1vANyRE0bMhtUinDrfI0spchhLUAuDvyj1wOl7K7ha-2vh4x5F0XV9f3jSUEeMa4LeLBk1xElbsed3uL8C2TOgtX3Z5oTslLsI9EKTADH9aAtIsrnXP6abpNLxE/s1600-h/r2525829733.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440372842037168978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBP0_Aq3oFHRXGcOw1vANyRE0bMhtUinDrfI0spchhLUAuDvyj1wOl7K7ha-2vh4x5F0XV9f3jSUEeMa4LeLBk1xElbsed3uL8C2TOgtX3Z5oTslLsI9EKTADH9aAtIsrnXP6abpNLxE/s320/r2525829733.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Many people maintain the assumption that Americans are complacent and stupid. Seeing the crazy things that happen in this country on a daily basis, it is hard to argue with that sometimes. But Americans know when they are being threatened and know when they are being lied to. They abhor hypocracy (usually) unless they are in love with the hypocrite. Once committed to an idea or an ideal they are frequently unmoved by fact or reality. But all notions, ideals and belief systems have tipping points. All of them. Actions have consequences but so do inactions. It is time we put honor and dignity back in our lives, hold each other accountable and educate ourselves to the sometimes bitter truths of common sense and a plain talk. Cheers</div>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-23142590820999644062010-02-13T16:39:00.001-08:002010-02-13T17:01:38.634-08:00The Bombing Of Dresden<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGVuufYBn34WgwH7MjAz_JsXLKwuOtgI0YE-aWcHV8Lt6QQXcUuQVlSUpeZ6BsNRVFpE0trzTV9e71MLzDSQHc5PIA0wnlNA1HVxdj5wKRtB-pL07LVBLSNxhyphenhyphen6Yyh0UOTsEP7O23tIM/s1600-h/250PX-~1.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 174px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437897865915559058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGVuufYBn34WgwH7MjAz_JsXLKwuOtgI0YE-aWcHV8Lt6QQXcUuQVlSUpeZ6BsNRVFpE0trzTV9e71MLzDSQHc5PIA0wnlNA1HVxdj5wKRtB-pL07LVBLSNxhyphenhyphen6Yyh0UOTsEP7O23tIM/s320/250PX-~1.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Today, tomorrow and Monday mark the 65th anniversary of the bombing of Dresden. On those days RAF BomberCommand and Divisions of the USAAF VIII Bomber Command bombed Dresden unleashing a firestorm that consumed 15 square miles of the center of the city and killed between 18 and 25 thousand people. Even more controversial than the nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, this remains one of the most inexplicable acts by the Allies during World War II. Some have argued it was a legitimate strategic target, an industrial and communications center that the Russians wanted destroyed to assist their offensive into Germany. Many have doubted thay assertion. </div><br /><div>What is important here, I believe, is the myopia imposed by hindsight and revisionism. One must always put the act within the context of the thinking of the commanders "on the ground" at the time such decisions were made. To judge now, even based on the historical record, deprives the advocate and the critic of the contextual thinking. In other words, we will never know what was truly going on "inside their heads" 65 years ago. One can only guess. Any answer could be the right one.</div>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-76309129822409781282010-02-11T18:17:00.001-08:002010-02-11T18:34:52.895-08:00Haiti, a rock in the sun<br /><br />Will Durant once said, civilization exists by geological consent, subject to change without notice.<br /><br />At 4:53 pm ET, an earthquake of 7.0 magnitude started approximately 10 miles southwest from Port-au-Prince, Haiti. It lasted anywhere from 35 seconds to a minute. Geologically speaking, it was the result of the release of energy 6.2 miles below the earth’s surface from the Enriquillo-Plaintain Garden fault system, the subduction zone between the Caribbean tectonic plate and the North American one. This same fault system produced the major earthquakes of 1751 and 1771, both of which destroyed Port-au-Prince. At least 200,000 people have been killed, 196,595 injured and 800,000 to a million people displaced with extreme damage suffered in Port-au-Prince. The good news, if any, was that the earthquake occurred on land and not the ocean which might have resulted in a tsunami. (The 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and resulting tsunami was of 9.0 to 9.3 magnitude. Also by way of reference, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake was 7.8 and the Alaskan earthquake of 1964 recorded a magnitude of 9.2, the second strongest earthquake ever recorded in the world.)<br /><br /><br />The Cathedral in Port-au-Prince. The stained glass was intact.<br /><br /><br />As I had done in the past for 9-11 and Katrina, I got online and volunteered my services as a general and thoracic surgeon with several agencies, private and governmental. In my case, one can only witness so much tragedy and suffering before one is moved to help. After waiting several days without response, I gave up the pursuit, assured that somewhere my name was on a list. Tuesday, one week after the earthquake, my operating room circulating nurse, Mike Vandervort, an old hand in Haiti from mission work in years past, told me he was leaving for Haiti in three days. I told him I would like to go and within a matter of an hour or two I was on the roster to go. This would be at the behest of OMS, One Mission Society. To my surprise, the next day my wife, Debbie, said she would like to go also. And so it was the four of us, Mike, his wife Dawn also an RN and Debbie and I were on a trip which ultimately landed in Cap Haitian on the northern coast of Haiti.<br /><br /><br />After we landed in Fort Lauderdale on the first leg of our trip one of the luggage porters asked where we were going with all of our supplies, 23 boxes and packed luggage with donated supplies. Airtran had flown it down from Baltimore gratis. I told him we were headed to Haiti. In broken English he explained that he was from Haiti also and his wife lived in Port-au-Prince and he had not heard from her since the earthquake. He did not know if she was dead or alive. He gave us his contact information as well as information about his wife. Dawn noticed the address was the same street as the Villa Ormiso, the Mission’s Villa. We told him we would find out what had happened to his wife and family.<br /><br />Cap Haitian was unaffected by the earthquake except to note the huge influx of displaced persons, surviving family members and refugees, that had streamed north from the earthquake zone. This placed a big burden on the resources of Cap Haitian. Importantly, it afforded us an opportunity to see what Haiti was like before the earthquake. It was my first trip to a Third World country. Haiti is more destitute and impoverished than I could have possibly imagined. It is hot, crowded, dirty and smells. But it is also a place of raw, almost primitive beauty where people make due, live for today and smile a lot. <br /><br />After we arrived at Cap Haitian we had a lovely dinner with Haitian friends of Mike and Dawn. .<br /><br />Saturday we spent a pleasant day with the missionaries, the same mission Mike and Dawn had lived at for eight years. Later, other members of our contingent arrived. While there, we had to fill out insurance forms required by the Mission to underwrite the risks incurred by those of us entering the earthquake zone. In addition to contact information there was the disquieting request to name the place where we would want to be interred. Mike wrote “where I drop”. Debbie and I wrote a more realistic location. The next day, Sunday morning, we all, along with luggage, supplies, and Haitian translators, got on a truck and went down Carrefour. It was a long, bumpy, dusty eight hour trip to Port-au-Prince. The pot holes would easily swallow a small automobile and how the axle was not ripped from the chassis I will never know. Debbie, because of her bad back and me, presumably because I was the oldest member of the party were afforded the luxury of riding in the cab. The folks in the back, sitting on narrow benches and on luggage were in short order covered with a choking, tenacious dust. The road was a bone jarring combination of ruts, craters and foot-high speed bumps. It is the main north-south highway connecting Port-au-Prince and the north coast of Haiti. The only semblance to a highway is that there are occasional sections which are paved. It is their I-95. We passed many small towns and villages. They all appeared the same. One or two room cinder block and cement hovels all quite similar. Invariably, there were small, slightly clad children, old women, chickens, goats and the occasional prized cow or hog tethered to a bush or tree trunk. The women were sweeping dirt off of the dirt. Laundry drying on lines strung between tree limbs or simply flung over bushes. We waved, they waved back.<br /><br /><br />As we approached the suburbs of Port-au-Prince we began to see toppled hovels with fallen walls. Initially, we thought this was evidence of earthquake damage. No, we were told, this is how Haiti normally looks. People milled around looking distracted for the most part, going about the activities of daily life. This was how they normally look.<br /><br />Not long after arriving at the mission’s villa in Carrefour, a western suburb of Port-au-Prince, we saw some young Haitian men surfing the net on their laptop computers. I asked Mike if he thought they might be able to locate the porter’s wife and family or perhaps contact them by cell phone. They took her phone number and were able to contact her immediately. It turns out that after the earthquake Haiti had changed its international exchange. It was a simple matter to correct this and after we advised his wife of her husband's concern she promptly called him. We counted this is our first miracle. <br /><br />Later that afternoon, before dark, we unloaded our luggage and went up the hill to Daquini to the abandoned home that would be the site of our clinic. The home had a commanding view of the Bay where we could easily see a small flotilla of naval vessels swinging at anchor and of course, the USNS Comfort. I found it reassuring to have a completely self-contained tertiary medical center a short helicopter ride away. I asked Gavin McClintock, an emergency room physician from Northern Ireland and the head of the mission’s activities on the hill, what contingency plans he had to evacuate a critically ill patient off the hill and he replied “none.” This was not reassuring. We set up the pharmacy in the shed used for lawn care materials and pitched the five tents, donated by the Rotary Club International, that would serve as our clinics and, it turned out, our operating room.<br /><br /><br />The next morning we drove up the hill. As we approached the gate to our clinic we noted that both sides of the path were lined with patients. When they saw us putting together the clinic the evening before, word must have traveled quickly. They parted ways as we drove into the clinic. No rush, no disorder. Patience is the Haitian way. <br /><br />Patients outside the gates to the clinic.<br /><br />In the meantime, I went to the Hospital Adventiste to offer my services as a surgeon. I met with the ostensible chief and he said the place was crawling with surgeons because coming to Haiti was suddenly, the ‘sexy’ thing to do and, while he appreciated my offer, there was little work for me. An abundance of medical help was apparent getting the patients to it and it to the patients was the problem. This is why our little tent clinic on the hill was so sorely needed. <br /><br />We started seeing patients immediately Monday morning. The patients all had a story to tell. Many were refugees from Port-au-Prince, displaced by the damage to their homes and neighborhoods. They lived in a tent city which grew by the hour on the side of our dusty hill. <br /><br />Most had simple problems like belly aches, most often related to intestinal parasites, headaches, aches and pains, scabies and general anxiety manifesting as somatic complaints. Virtually all got treatment for worms. Most left with acetaminophen, ibuprophen and an oral cephalosporin.<br />The clinic pharmacy<br /><br /><br />Debbie and I in the dispensing area of the pharmacy. I am pouring anti-scabies medicine into little bottles between cases.<br /><br /> All were given reassurance and an opportunity to convert from voodoo and black magic to Christianity. It was not long before the ER docs were convinced many of the patients were suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. This was entirely understandable considering what had just happened. Many, in fact most, people related the loss of a child, spouse, parent, brother or sister. They seemed to share a collective grief.<br /> Our waiting room.<br /><br /><br /><br />I immediately started seeing neglected wounds on arms and especially legs. Some were infected and required debridement of necrotic tissue. Many people who saw us off at home figured I would be doing a lot of amputations from crushed and badly mangled extremities. This was not the case. By the time we arrived all of the limbs requiring amputation had only been removed or the patient had expired.<br />A cinderblock fell on this leg.<br /><br />She cut her foot trying to escape her collapsing home<br /><br />Other issues requiring surgical attention started to appear. A two-year-old boy was brought to us by his mother. He had suffered first and deep second degree burns over his right arm, shoulder and chest. This had occurred when he fell into the family campfire. Before arriving at the clinic someone, probably a voodoo doctor, had covered the burns with gentian violet. He was covered with a thick, dried, purple crust. I gently picked this off and found that the burns were already healing quite nicely. We gave him a tetanus shot and some antibiotics and pediatric analgesics and advised him to return daily. We saw him the next day, picked at the gentian violet again and were pleased with his progress. We never saw him again.<br /><br />The next most memorable case was that of a two-week old little boy named Daniel who appeared dead as his mother handed him to me. He was critically dehydrated, lethargic and did not move. It turns out that his mother had tossed him out the window when the earthquake started. She and the rest of her family got out before the building collapsed. From what we gathered in the translation from Creole to English she was advised not to breast-feed baby if it was crying. This admonition resulted in the rapid dehydration of this infant. His eyes were glazed over, he had virtually no skin turgor, and his anterior fontanel was completely hollow. We had no intravenous fluids available so I started to feed the baby a solution of water and brown sugar reduced to sweeten our morning coffee. The baby wasted little time sucking down the fluids. Finally one of our nurses pulled out some Propel which we also mixed in water and fed this to him as well. Several hours later we convinced the mother to resume breast-feeding and he took to the breast with great abandon. She brought the child back everyday until we left and each day he showed further improvement. He was a survivor. <br />Daniel<br /><br />Debbie getting to know Daniel a little better<br /><br />Once word got out that there was a surgeon in the clinic all manner of minor surgical issues appeared. It wasn't long before we had numerous lipomas, sebaceous cysts and a large congenital nevus of the face and a chondroma of the ear to remove. These minor procedures were performed under the most primitive conditions using nothing but local anesthesia. We sterilized our instruments between cases with bleach and rubbing alcohol. In each case the patient was very happy to lose a disfiguring lesion. (We later learned that they returned for follow up visits and suture removal. All wounds were healing very nicely without infection.)<br /><br /> Congenital Nevus, before<br /><br />After<br /><br />On several occasions after arriving in Carrefour we experienced after shocks. While it awakened many, caused panic among the nurses sending them screaming into the night. I managed to sleep right through all the excitement. One particularly severe tremor occurred during breakfast. It registered 4.6 magnitude. Again panic with everyone heading for the door. I continued to eat my pancakes. The night before I had a long chat with an American contractor who happened to be a structural engineer. His inspection told him the building was earthquake proof. I felt rather smug, grinning at my own bravado. No one else thought this was funny.<br /><br />One afternoon a UN truck arrived at our gate. There were boxes of food donated by Walmart of Mexico. Each contained a bad of noodles, rice, sugar and cans of tuna and meat. Each was meant for one family. Within minutes a crowd of several doze people arrived seeking food. The tent city, we were told, was populated by over a thousand families. Perplexed and uncertain what to do, the Haitian driver, asked me through the fence what he should do. I had no easy answer for him and not wanting to start a riot, he turned the truck around, still loaded with the parcels, and left.<br />The UN food truck<br /><br />The last day we were at the mission, after breakfast, I was approached by the one of the drivers and manager of the villa, Winkney. He asked if we could immunize his children, his nieces and nephews and the children of the cooks in the kitchen. I said we had long since run out of tetanus toxoid and that I was sorry. He and I were both aware of tetanus, lockjaw, which was affecting so many injured Haitians. Interestingly, we had heard rumors that the American doctors had never seen such cases and did not know how to treat it. That was when the second miracle occurred. Delivered to the clinic that morning had been several multidose vials of tetanus-pertusis and diphtheria immunizations. Winkney, for the first time in our stay there appeared at the clinic to attend to some chores. I asked Winkney how many doses he needed. Twenty. Dawn tucked two vials into her backpack and twenty syringes. After dinner we had an inoculation party. Unfortunately, more kids showed up than we had immunizations. A dozen or more had to be turned away. <br />The “Inoculation Party”<br /><br />Post-Party group picture. Winkney is on the far left.<br /><br />Something we as parents take for granted, ‘getting baby’ shots for our kids, is a luxury for these people. It broke our hearts.<br /><br />In just 4 days on the hill, the clinic saw 1104 patients.<br /><br />There were several reasons why the damage was so severe and widespread. The cinderblocks were poorly made and were not allowed to cure sufficiently to acquire strength, barely a step above mud bricks. The cement mix was diluted by excessive amounts of sand to make it go further. Minimal re-bar was used to support the structure and there is no foundation. There are no building codes in Haiti. No one could afford to build a home, no matter how austere or primitive, if they had to comply with anything resembling building codes.<br /><br />Haitians are very proud, resourceful and resilient people. Their gratitude for our services was plain to see. One elderly woman after having a large disfiguring sebaceous cyst removed from her chest wall walked through the camp, hugging every white person she saw. Haitians always seemed to be walking somewhere. Cell phones were ubiquitous. There was the occasional mp3 player. Motorbikes laced in and out of traffic with suicidal abandon often carrying several people at once. I once counted five adults hugging each other on a motors-scooter like slices of bread in a loaf. Rarely saw anybody smoking. For Haitians, seeing a doctor was a privilege and they came to us in their finest clothes. Even little Daniel, near death was dressed as if he were about to be baptized.<br /><br />As we left Port-au-Prince we had the chance to drive through the earthquake zone in the central part of the city. The damage was staggering. Buildings collapsed and were knocked down like dominoes. Some of the wreckage had not been touched and no doubt still contained bodies. The Presidential Palace had simply imploded leaving the once elegant rotundas cocked to the side. The cathedral was a ruin as if bombed from the sky. <br />The Presidential Palace<br /><br />Lastly, at the end of our stay, Mike and Dawn stayed another week, Debbie and I tried to leave Haiti. The first day we got on a standby list and none of the little trans-Caribbean airlines that service Cap Haitian had available seats. Discouraged, we got up at 5 AM Sunday morning and went to the airport to be first on standby. After waiting around for several hours it was getting increasingly clear we would not get out then either. Late morning, a Navy Blackhawk helicopter landed to off-load some supplies. I ran out to the crewman and asked if it were possible to get a lift to Port-au-Prince airport to get a flight out. He checked with his superiors and we were taken aboard. What had taken eight or nine hours by truck took us about 45 minutes by chopper. We refueled on the back end of the frigate USS Underwood before finally arriving at the airport. We were taken into custody by some State Department officials and waited in a tent. Turns out we had two choices. Fly to Miami in an Air Force C-17 cargo plane without certainty when we might leave if at all or we could get on a United 767 that had been chartered to bring in supplies. It would be deadheading back to Chicago. If we wanted to go along we could then make our own arrangements to get home. It was a no brainer. We boarded the 767 and the crew treated us like returning heroes, which of course we were not, but it felt good to be heading back to the US. We caught a late flight from O’Hare to Dulles and finally got home at 3 AM, nearly 22 hours after leaving the mission. <br /><br />The Navy Seahawk I flagged down.<br /><br />Debbie<br /><br />It is difficult to image abject poverty on the scale we saw everywhere in Haiti. People in our country living at or below the poverty level would live like royalty in Haiti. The history and politics of Haiti are complex and not easily understood. Haitians, in their slavery, ousted by armed revolt, the forces of Napoleon. It may have been the high-water mark for Haiti. Crippling reparations to France and a general disdain for a free, independent black state in the Western Hemisphere doomed them and the Haitians, it is said, never got over being slaves, dependant on their slave masters. Everyone with whom I discussed Haiti, its current situation and history said it ran better when it was under the control of the Duvalier’s. They were not benign dictators by any means but there was a central authority and an army and the Haitian people, for the most part, got along pretty well. Democracy was a dismal failure under Aristide. The extent of corruption at every level of government is mind-numbing. There is no controlling authority. The worst thing that happened to Haiti, I was repeatedly told, was the disbanding of the army. Everyone fortunate or clever enough to get an education or the opportunity leaves Haiti and does not return producing a permanent, crippling brain drain. Simply put it is a country devoid of infrastructure and its best and brightest.<br /><br />Looking around, I found it difficult to know where the endpoint is after this disaster or who will know it or when it might arrive. But for a brief time we did our best.<br />The Happy Campers. Dawn and Mike are to our left.<br /><br />The Haitians have a saying which describes their predicament, their poverty and isolation: The rock in the cool water knows not the pain of the rock in the sun.<br /><br />For corresponding pictures go to my Facebook page Wes Harden IIIDoc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-2392054560646436062008-12-27T08:05:00.000-08:002008-12-27T08:07:12.400-08:00Took the words right out of my mouth...Blagojevich says he is "on the wrong planet" if impeached. Well...duh!Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291754473810334890.post-51300205451192784782008-12-26T09:30:00.000-08:002008-12-26T09:46:51.044-08:00Breast MRI and the Insanity of Progress<span style="font-family:arial;">Let's start this blog on a happy note: cancer. My father-in-law recently died of it. Everyone fears it. But most of us will come down with it. I often wonder if the ancients were as troubled with cancer as we are. Probably not because nobody lived long enough to get it. Although cancer got it's name from the fungating tumors which developed in the female breast during ancient times. The complexity of taking care of sick people today knows almost no limit. Not too terribly long ago a simple abscessed tooth could lead to endocarditis and death. We are reminded that John Buford, cavalry hero of Gettysburg did not survive the war not because he was KIA but because he succumbed to a bad gallbladder. Which brings me to my point. The rage in breast surgery and somehting that may becoming the 'standard of care' is to stage breast cancer patients with a preop MRI. In a perfect world this may be a good thing. But sometimes no news is good news. We have been taking pretty good care of breast cancer patients before MRI. We need to start a randomized trial to see if the preop use of MRI and the resulting action it causes (like more biopsies, more mastectomies and rampant fear) result in better outcomes. If it does not, then not only will my fears be proven, but it may allow the headlong, and very expensive, pursuit of unrestrained medical advancement to start to come under meaningful control. wes</span>Doc Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05527702459185676384noreply@blogger.com1