Archive for September 26th, 2008


Y’all…do me, but, mostly do yourselves a favor and go read this stunningly fabulous post by my good pal, Chris. 

Chris has done Medical Transcription from home for a very long time.  She’s seen lotsa stuff.  I sorta relate to what she’s writing about, but, on a different sort of level.  Chris sees everything.  I see, for lack of a better word, Cooties.

Most of the things I see at my work, lab results of people with various communicable diseases, do not result in death.  Sometimes they do, but, 9 times out of 10, if a patient dies and has invasive MRSA or VRE or one of those things, they also had terminal cancer or advanced kidney disease or some other condition that weakened their system considerably. As if having a terminal or serious illness wasn’t a bitch enough, they get an infection from the hospital. 

It’s easy when you see so much paperwork of various sicknesses to not think of each lab slip as a real person.  It’s more paperwork.  I put my earphones in and go into my little Cootie Zone to block out the very loud people that work around me.  I kinda dig it there in that little Zone and I confess I don’t always think of these names and these ugly sounding sicknesses, (Shigella just plain sounds like something you don’t want, ya know?) that are required to be reported to the State by Law, as being painful or unpleasant.  I’m mostly just seeing how quick I can get everything entered (lots of little steps to that process) get them faxed to the Investigators and get them filed away.

A couple months ago, my lifelong friend Karen’s husband, Ron (who’s been married to Karen for so long, I’ve known him since I was 18) became ill with E-Coli while on vacation in Gulf Shores.  It’s a long, drawn-out story, but, Ron is a very lucky man to be breathing today.  There was a time there for a few days that it was touch and go, his kidney’s failed and I know Karen probably imagined herself as a single mother raising their two kids alone.  It was a very scary situation, but, thankfully, Ron is recovering. 

I guess Ron’s name ended up on an assistant in the CDC office down there in Alabama.  Somebody had to investigate it and trace where Ron picked up this thing that just about killed him.  I suppose the Alabama Health Dept. equivalent to me didn’t think nary a thing about it. 

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I was just so moved by Chris’s thoughts on what she does, it just got me thinking.    Just go read it.

Misty Watercolored Memories…Or Something Like That

Call me a whiny baby all you want, but, stories like this make me want to cuss.  Why couldn’t Michael McDonald have done a benefit for the Franklin High School Band back when I were one of them? That’s cause Franklin wasn’t swanky back in the days when Yo Sista cruised the square in the ’79 Grand Am.  (Do the rednecks still sit on the Square on weekend nights and holler at  people as they pass?  Doubt it. Shame)

 The new FHS looks like a stinkin’ country club now.  Please take notice of FHS then…the front of the building.

If I remembered those kids’ names, I’d tell you who they are.  (Oh Chez Bez?  Do you know?) I remember the girls’ faces (and hair) but not their names.
And the front of FHS now…

I bet instead of Lunch Ladies, they’ve got May-truh-dees.  I bet instead of Mr. Hankins and his “coffee” cup, they have a Starbucks.  Betchya they have concierges, too. Gah.
Ironically, this last coupla weeks has seen a frenzy of reunions on Facebook with kids I went to school with, all the way up from elementary school to the FHS days.  We’ve been reminiscing like crazy and trying to put together some meet ups.  Good times indeed.  People like Bailey Leopard (isn’t that a great name?) Tricia Baker, Marni Gruel, Denise Williamson, Yvette Minton, David Rice (who was one of my goodest buddies)…good folks all of them.

I was at my kids’ high school last night and had to stop for a minute and watch the band practice.  They may not have P. Wayne Simpson and his cigarrettes and megaphone hollering “You’re on your own time, People” and making CERTAIN people pick up trash cause they had had enough of that little dweeb, who shall remain nameless, and opened up a Can of Whoop Ass on him.  (I don’t know who that was, but, it weren’t me. HAR)  but high school band practice still sounds the same with the tom-toms and bass drum in the background, flags a’twirling….ah…

Just for grins…

According to Web, this was a 1984 configuration of the award-winning (are they still award winning?) Franklin High School Marching Band.  I was not in it til the next year.  Web is more of a Rainman than I am.

The More I Laugh, The Hornier He Gets

Feel Good Friday is h’year and this week, lets us look at some funny clips from my most favorite movie EVER…Oh gawsh, how I love this movie.  It isn’t all 100% accurate with everything but Tommy Lee Jones and Sissy Spacek are so wonderful. 

A little trivia that nobody-gives-a-flip about….the scene where Loretty says the infamous line about Doo “gettin’ horny” live on the radio…the DJ she’s talking to is supposed to be Hugh Cherry.  Hugh was a well known DJ from here to the West Coast (yep, a compadre of Biff’s on KFOX in Long Beach).  Hugh auditioned for the role of himself and DIDN’T GET IT.  I never understood that.  Hugh was a rather handsome feller and not knocking Big Boy who did get the part…I imagine they wanted to embellish the stereotype that Country Music people are all yay-hoos or something.  I don’t know.