My foster mom, Bev

First off, thoughts and prayers for Bev, if you will.  (Unless you're one of those thoughts-and-prayers dissenters,)  We had to have her taken by squad to the local hospital on Thanksgiving eve for what turned out to be bleeding stomach ulcers, gastritis, and congestive heart failure.  Her blood oxygen was quite low, and her lungs had fluid in them.  She was treated for possible pneumonia, too, though her hospital doc is skeptical--he thinks it was the CHF masquerading as pneumonia.  Of course, they gave her antibiotics just in case.  Erring on the side of caution is standard procedure when your patient is old and frail.  (But, because she's Bev, also mentally sharp and fully alert.)

Apparently, while Bev's 81-year-old heart is strong, she tends to retain fluids, owing to her age and small size.  That, plus the drastic decrease in her physical activity since she broke her hip in 2013.  The fluid build-up prevents the left side of her heart from fully functioning.  Shortness of breath, plus other complications, result.

She's in nursing home rehab right now, and while some of the aides are terrific, others aren't.  The place has the usual moronic, corporate-dictated "get the patient up and moving" policy (hey, it's rehab), despite the fact that Bev is suffering a major sleep deficit right now.  Since there's absolutely no coordination between the various folks who visit her room, no one got the "Do not disturb" memo. For Christ's sake, if the woman can't get any sleep, how can she perform the various exercises they want her to do?  A bureaucracy is a dysfunctional organism wherein one limb has no clue what the other limb is doing (or not doing).  It's all about checking off boxes.

Update: Bev reports that she's up to the rehab requirements, now that they've been explained to her.  Things aren't as dire as I thought.  Which is always a good thing.

Lee

Thoughts and prayers--some thoughts

Apparently, a mass shooting over the holidays is the perfect occasion for select journalists, comics, and whoever to lecture the clueless masses on our heinous habit of closing our tweets, emails, etc. with the phrase "Thoughts and prayers."

To use this cliche is discriminatory. That's because there are people in our midst who want nothing to do with praying or thinking, and we need to respect their disposition.

Please modify your behavior accordingly.



Disregard and curses,

PC Lee

PC Lee sez....

Lee

Veterans Day 2015--with your host, EW2 Hartsfeld

Your blogger, 29 years ago, when he was EW2 Hartsfeld:

It was the fourth year of my second enlistment, and I'd decided not to reenlist--this kid was heading to Ohio and Bowling Green State University.  When I got there, I had $225 a month to help me survive, thanks to the Navy's Veterans Educational Assistance Program.  And so I worked all sorts of part-time jobs--carpet cleaning, sweeping, busing tables, and like that.  Sometime during my senior year, I even had a car--a $300 Chrysler boat from the late 1970s that required ten minutes of gas-pedal pumping to start.  Prior to that, I had to walk everywhere I wanted or needed to be, so I was fairly fit--which, unfortunately, didn't put a dent in my asthma.

Anyway, how I missed the days of catching a train to Yokohama, cruising antique shops in Hong Kong, buying vinyl albums in Australia, and (in my first go-round) hopping the train to Edinburgh, Scotland to buy 78s.  At least I got to live off campus, and within walking distance of  a small, old fashioned convenience store.  (The closest supermarket was a bit out of the way.)

Also during my senior year, one of the profs in my major asked about my military service.  "This must be quite an adjustment," he said.  He was right, of course.  That shook me a little--no prof, in or out of my major, had ever asked me about my service!  Ah, well.  This was 1989, and no one had gotten the "Thank our vets for their service" memo.

Jump to 2005, and I'm hosting three or four blogs.  My second, Music You (Possibly) Won't Hear Anyplace Else, enjoys its share of popularity, and eventually I stick with it only, discontinuing Fields on Fire, LeeWorks, and Vintage Lounge.    Jump forward 10 years, and we're at this post, where I've just linked to seven great patriotic 78s, some from back when my late grandfather was a teen.  All but one of these is a fresh rip.  A few sides are fairly hammered, but, hey--they're 78s.


Click here to hear: Vets Day 2015

The Trumpeter (Descriptive Ballad)--Raymond Newell, Baritone; Ion Swinley, Narrator, 1929.
War Songs--Victor Male Chorus, with Orch., 1913.
Sailor Song--The Peerless Quartet, 1915.
American Fantasie (Victor Herbert)--New York Police Band, 1920.
We're Going Over--Medley--Pietro, Piano Accordion Solo, 1917.
Call to Arms (Descriptive)--Peerless Quartet, 1915
American Patrol (Meacham)--Howard Kopp, Xylophone w. Orch., 1915.

All ripped and destroyed--er, restored--by me from my collection.


Lee

Ghost Cat Presents... Three last-minute Halloween pieces!!

Three original pieces, and with only minutes to spare (before it's Nov. 1).  The first, Thirteen Kitties, is a tribute to our thirteen cats.  Nothing like having thirteen cats on Halloween.  Next, Midnight at the Thrift Store.  Midnight at the thrift store has to be pretty spooky, especially on Halloween, when the ghosts of all the unsold thrift items come back to haunt whatever "new" items are taking their former shelf spots.  And, finally, Hauntovani Waltz No.2.  It's a waltz, and it's the second.

To the last-minute sounds: Three Last-minute Halloween pieces


Thirteen Kitties (2015)
Midnight in the Thrift Store (2015)
Hauntovani Waltz No. 2 (2015)

All composed and played by Lee Hartsfeld on his Casio WK-3800, with multi-tracking and effects.


Lee