Put Your Hands on the Magic Gams: Praise the Lord!

Unfortunately for you, quite happily for me, this blog continues to be a reliquaire -- the shapely sainted scent of this cut-glass bowl of -- well, let's be nice and continue the tired appropriation of potpourri.

Actually, this motley collection calls more to mind those jeweled and funky medieval reliquaries in the form of the various holy body parts they contain. My favorite, and, I believe, the most salutary? The Magic Gams of the Saints.

Put Your Hands on the Magic Gams: Praise the Lord!
(to the right, Reliquary of Saint Blaise, Dubrovnik)

The Ho-Hum-itude of your generic reliquaries: your fancy boxes, studded with tiresome jewels and enamel work; your larger fancy-schmancy boxes in the form of romanesque churches and spired cathedrals; your humongous fancy boxes shaped like Ye Olde Ubiquitous Coffins, your musty grinning ossuaries that approximate real worship space (Chinese feng shui dates back a good pretty bit)?

They are patently inferior to the free-standing chasse legs of a more enlightened era.

Still, reliquary legs can pose the occasional conundrum, as noted in this article about the infamous three-legged Saint Chad back in 1996:

Scientists examining the relics of a 7th-century saint venerated in Birmingham have discovered that his casket contains three legs rather than the customary two.

Radio-carbon dating, however, has established that five of the six bones in the reliquary of St Chad may well be genuine, since they date form the 6th or 7th century; one of the bones which Catholics have revered for 1,300 years is a century or two older than the rest. The Oxford archaeologist who carried out the test believes that that bones from three bodies were jumbled together when the saint was reburied.

St Chad, or Ceadd, who died in 672, was the first Bishop of Mercia, with his seat in Lichfield, where he was buried. He had been, briefly, Archbishop of York, before he was removed from the post by St Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury. His bones had been moved to a new church in 700 and were kept in Lichfield Cathedral until the Reformation, when Henry VIII abolished the cult of relics.

St Chad's brother, Cedd, was also a saint and founded a monastery where St Chad was later abbot. On hearing the news of St Chad's many-legged state, one distinguished Catholic historian joked that the extra leg might belong to St Cedd.

The Archbishop of Birmingham, the Most Rev Maurice Couve de Murville, has authorised continued devotion to the relics - provided it is directed at all the bones equally.

See? I've good reason to prefer a more fitting fitted container-for-the-thing-contained. Something less a dime-a-dozen casket and more a Glamorous Gam.

Actually, the simple stories of the travels and travails of saintly relics can be enlightening of the human spirit -- frail and heroic -- as well as just plain hilarious. More about the relics of Saint Chad:

According to St. Bede, he was immediately venerated as a saint and his relics were translated to a new shrine. He is considered a saint in the Roman Catholic and Anglican churches, and is also noted as a saint in a new edition of the Eastern Orthodox Synaxarion (Book of Saints), in response to increasing attention to pre-Schism western saints. His feast day is celebrated on March 2.

Chad remained the centre of an important cult, focussed on healing, throughout the middle ages. This was centred on his tomb, behind the high altar of the cathedral, and his skull, in a special Head Chapel.

At the dissolution of the Shrine on the instructions of King Henry VIII in about 1538, Prebendary Arthur Dudley of Lichfield Cathedral removed and retained some relics, probably a travelling set. These were eventually passed to his nieces, Bridget and Katherine Dudley, of Russells Hall.
In 1651, they reappeared when a farmer Henry Hodgetts of Sedgley was on his death-bed and kept praying to St Chad, when the priest hearing his last confession, Fr Peter Turner SJ, asked him why he called upon Chad. Henry replied, "because his bones are in the head of my bed". He instructed his wife to give the relics to the priest, whence they found their way to the Seminary at St Omer, in France. After the conclusion of penal times, in the early 19th Century, they found their way into the hands of Sir Thomas Fitzherbert-Brockholes of Aston Hall, near Stone, Staffordshire. When his chapel was cleared after his death, his chaplain, Fr Benjamin Hulme, discovered the box containg the relics, which were examined and presented to Bishop Thomas Walsh, (RC) Vicar Apostolic of the Midland District in 1837 and were enshrined in the new Cathedral of St Chad in Birmingham, opened in 1841, in a new ark designed by Augustus Pugin.

Somewhere in this morning's journeys, I fell in love with the pottery of John Hodge. A brief communion with a photo gallery of his work went a long way toward the erosion of my present wise-crackery. He explains: "Every piece of pottery that I make generates from clay or slip (liquid clay) that has been mixed in my studio. I have begun to think of this clay and slip as a source of energy which I enhance with special additions, including holy water and fountain from our favorite churches and fountains in Rome, and holy dirt from the shrine of Chimayo in New Mexico. I also added the ashes of ribbon that I got from the trash can in the apartment where John Lennon and Yoko Ono were living on Bank Street in New York City, when they were fighting extradition to England in the ‘70’s. Also included are the ashes of ticker tape from the John Glenn ticker tape parade in New York. I think of my pottery as a reliquary of positive energy."

Wouldn't it be a wonder if our lives were such a perfect fit? I am reliquary :: I am [sufficient] relic?

A mesh, a complement -- either of two parts or things needed to complete the whole --counterparts -- a safe and sacred conversation?

So I'm a leg woman. You might be partial to hands. Not to worry, friend, as hands and feet are number six in the hit parade of fetishes, according to the ever popular Women's Sexuality Correspondent Vanessa Burton at AskMen.com, certainly my preferred source for informed erotica.

John Hodge has made some fascinating hand reliquary:

.........................................................
Au sens premier du mot, un reliquaire (du latin reliquiarium) contient les reliques d'un saint chrétien.

For an interesting look at relics in Buddhism, and the democratization (and proliferation) of those relics -- a process almost identical to that of their Christian counterparts -- read the first chapter (or at least the last half of the first chapter!) of The impact of Buddhism on Chinese material culture by John Kieschnick.

Also, I ran across an interesting take on "relics, cremation and organ donation" at the Blog of the Dormition: Eastern Catholic Apostolic Orthodox (one John R.P. Russell runs the joint) -- a very nice, but painful, logical extension of learning about reliquary as a [strictly Christian] concept:

Within the Christian tradition, to bury the dead is a work of mercy – to burn the dead a desecration. The bodies of our departed holy ones are rightly venerated in altars, catacombs, and cemeteries, in reliquaries and ossuaries in reverent expectation of the coming resurrection.

In the light of traditional Christian respect for the corpse, ought Christians to regard the transplantation of human organs as a desecration or a veneration of the body?

Most Christians are firmly in the latter camp, believing with neither doubt nor hesitation in this modern medical miracle. Others hesitate. I have hesitated for years.

A compelling argument against organ donation, it has seemed to me, is the resurrection of Lazarus. Imagine that, upon his death, Mary and Martha had carved him up and used his organs to save other folks’ lives. This would put a whole new spin on Christ's command, "Lazarus, come out!" Would his organs, in obedience to their Creator, have jumped from the guts of their recipients?

Lazarus is not unique. The Seven Holy Sleepers, too, rose from the dead. Peter raised the dead (Acts 9:40). The bones of Elias raised the dead (2 Kings 13: 21). How, if some organs of these lived on, would their resurrections have occurred?

Would Jesus have wanted His organs donated?

If, indeed, our bodies are to rise from the dead, are not our organs to rise with them? What is a body but a group of organs? Significantly, our bodies will rise from the dead – our souls are not given new bodies. Body and soul are linked. The soul is the life of the body. Our bodies rise and, if we are saved, are glorified. They are made new, but are not recreated.

Compelled as I have been by these arguments, in truth, “the free gift of organs after death is legitimate and can be meritorious” (CCC 2301).

What is more, the practice of organ transplantation actually has ancient Christian approval. Sts. Cosmas and Damian, as here illustrated, once performed a miraculous leg transplant as a means of healing an ulcerated leg.

The workings of resurrection are mysterious – unplumbable. Our omnipotent God has taught us the greatest love is the gift of self – self-sacrifice. For the sake of such love, God, Who is Love, will surely make a way. Where I have seen contradiction, there is none.

No greater reliquary could there be for the organs of a departed loved one than the body of another – here is a reliquary of God’s own creation, “more precious than the most exquisite jewels and more purified than gold” (Martyrdom of Polycarp, c. 135). Here indeed is a fitting place to deposit our remains.


Saints Cosmas and Damian, unmercenary physicians, performing a miraculous transplant of a leg from a deceased Ethiopian. Attributed to Master of Los Balbases (15th Century).

Alma de Cuba of the Ischium

I HAVE brought forth to the nations, the occupied and unincorporated territories, the communes, the departments, the states and counties, the unions, the parishes, and ALL of the condominia and nanovillages of the world -- a marvel.

FOR Unto me is born this day in the hinterlands between the thigh and the left butt cheek, a Pressure Sore, which shall be called Alma de Cuba of the Ischium, after the famed restaurant in Liverpool, "Winner of Best Bar, Best Restaurant and UK's Best Venue in 2008," situated in a converted Catholic church. When you think "cuban cuisine," think Liverpool!

Think of all the firsts Alma de Cuba of the Ischium and I will have! I need to invest in one of those little Pressure Sore Memory Albums so that I can be sure and jot down the particulars of all the wonderful times to come --

Alma's first saline rinse.
Alma's first colloidal dressing.
Alma's itch!
Alma's sting!

Alma's eventual lack of sensation!
Alma's First Holy Communion!

First day of school.

First smile.

As God ordains it, there will always be less of me and more of Alma de Cuba of the Ischium. That's the Pressure Sore Condition, the inevitable ingestion of The Host.

Holy Inevitable Ingestion, Batman!

I'll try to keep her public apprised of Alma's growth and evolution, but I don't want to expose her overly much to the contagions of The World.

I thought this day would never come.

It May Be A Long Way To Tipperary But It's A Far Cry From Latent Violence To Claymation. And Vice-Versa.

It's one of those times when I would prefer to call Fred "Poindexter." The preference is strong, almost overwhelming, and yet I didn't even know how I knew the name Poindexter.

So it turns out that it comes from Felix the Cat.

ALERT! ALERT! When I went to Wikipedia (somewhere south of Des Moines) to find something out about Felix the Cat, a cartoon and comic strip pretty much unknown to me (except for the latent imprint of Poindexter, and, of course, the iconic image of Felix), there was a stern warning at the top of the page saying, among other dire things, that the article contained Weasel Words which compromised the quality of its information. The gist, for Wikipedia, at least, is that such words/expressions "are words or statements that seemingly support statements without attributing opinions to verifiable sources. They give the force of authority to a phrase or a sentence without letting the reader decide whether the source of the opinion is reliable."

Like me, you probably have your own definition of Weasel Words. Start with "words typical of a weasel." This necessitates that you identify the weasels in your life, not exactly a warm-fuzzy type of exercise but one that we all do from time to time, or daily. I usually ignore weaselly types, myself, being almost preternaturally laid back. It's almost a curse, I am so relaxed and easygoing.

Weasel *words*, though? Heh. {snark-ety:snark-ety}

Yeah, I thought I was hot stuff. Something else to sneer at, add it to my long list. Turns out I don't know everything about Rhetoric and her Devices. You Weasel Experts already know about the creature's ability to suck out the contents of a bird egg and leave the shell in pristine condition. It was news to moi. And so the allusion goes:

The expression weasel word derives from the egg-eating habits of weasels. An egg that a weasel has sucked will look intact to the casual observer, while actually being empty. Similarly, words or claims that turn out to be empty upon analysis are known as "weasel words". The expression first appeared in Stewart Chaplin's short story Stained Glass Political Platform (published in 1900 in The Century Magazine), in which they were referred to as "words that suck the life out of the words next to them, just as a weasel sucks the egg and leaves the shell."

In the political sphere, this type of language is used to "spin" or alter the public's perception of an issue. In 1916, Theodore Roosevelt argued that "one of our defects as a nation is a tendency to use ...'weasel words'; when one 'weasel word' is used ... after another there is nothing left."

Sometimes the only way to avoid calling Fred-the-Ferret by the moniker of "Poindexter" is to sublimate that desire. Sublimation is the most productive of the defense mechanisms! Booya! iT'S dOWNrIgHT c.r.e.a.t.i.v.e.

[I plan to write a serious, short post about the wasted lives of those caught up in the topsy-turvy, crazy-assed world of devices and mechanisms. Soon.]

No -- not sublimation by a lighthearted and gentle slap to the back of Fred's dear head à la Gibbs to DiNozzo, no, no! No matter how much Tony smiles, that's abuse. ***

Me? I choose to sublimate by spending an afternoon developing an awesome, incomparable stop-motion animation short, using plasticine clay, pipe cleaners and fresh, organic vegetables.

Otherwise, it would just be one verbal assault after another. I might really err and call him a "son of a bitch!" Alternatively, I might suggest in a scary, scary, saccarine voice that he "take a long walk off a short pier."

It might even happen that I learn from some recent teachable moment and provide a pithy "your mama" reference.

Upon reflection, Obama sure did posit his fair share of Weasel Words about the arrest of Professor Gates -- spinning public perception 'n all -- didn't he? Wouldn't you like to know what the citizenry might have done with the situation if it had been left unspun?

{cough:cough}

Um. You needn't worry for Fred's safety. He's a big lug and I love him.
The fact that he is occasionally paranoid and short-sighted is beside the point.


***NCIS just recently arrived in Tête de Hergé, and we here at Marlinspike Hall have taken to watching NCIS marathon after NCIS marathon. That Ducky! Dr. Donald Mallard! Get it? nyuk-nyuk!

Corazon Aquino

The arc of Corazon Aquino's life lent itself to maxims, but two hard-nosed ones seem particularly worth pointing out. First, political sainthood is a gift from heaven with a Cinderella deadline — once past midnight, you are a pumpkin. Second, personal virtues are never a guarantee of effective or successful governance. What was truly shocking about Aquino's tumultuous six-year term as President of the Philippines was that those maxims proved untrue. Midnight always threatened Aquino but never struck; and she was a good woman whose goodness alone, at the very end, was what proved enough, if only by an iota, to save her country.

Racism is like a fart

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
The Word - He Who Smelt It, Dealt It
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Tasers

More On Ketamine (Courtesy of the StudMuffin)

Courtesy of Jim Broatch, the StudMuffin of RSDSA (Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy Syndrome Association -- an organization in need of a new name, if ever there was one...). Jim and His Fellow StudMuffins at RSDSA do phenomenal work for those mired in suffering now, all the while keeping their heads above water, their eyes on the prize of future therapies and happenin' research.

In fact, kiddos, the real "read" here is not this pitiful little article from People magazine (I mean, the magazine's editors *would* look at the most extreme and ill-afforded "therapy" out there -- forget the hundreds of thousands who have no access to it, or who don't believe in its claims, or who are just too far gone into misery... and co-morbidity. I rhymed!) -- no, the real read is in this link that Jim Broatch also provides, which is to legitimate information to help you make up your mind about the ketamine angle based on solid stuff.

To read up on my illegitimate posting on ketamine, much of it having to do with Laura Beckett and her sad odyssey, take a gander here. I promise it is all uninformed opinion. You're welcome.

All of that said, here's the gist of the People article, and best wishes to John Roach, its subject.

I love the title!

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

This Man CHOSE to be in a Coma

After years of excruciating pain that drove him to thoughts of suicide, John Roach decided to gamble on a controversial new treatment-a ketamine-induced coma.

August 10, 2009
By Alicia Dennis
PEOPLE Magazine

John Roach looks up at wife Rosemary from his bed in room 133 at the Hospital San Jose in Monterrey, Mexico. "Don’t say goodbye," he pleads as doctors prepare to send the burly grandfather form Allentown, Pa., into unconsciousness. "It’s okay," Rosemary says. "Pleasant dreams."

Soon, deep in a coma, John descends into a frightening, topsy-turvy world. Scene: He’s in a strange house with paintings on the ceiling. Scene: He’s watching as his cat rushes into the path of an oncoming car. Scene: He’s a World War II soldier fighting on a blood-soaked battlefield. "It was weird and frightening," John recalls of his voluntary, five-day ordeal in late May. "But I needed to do something."

Suffering from a debilitating neuromuscular disorder called reflex sympathetic dystrophy (RSD) , John, 50, is one of about 100 chronic-pain patients resorting to a radical new treatment in search of relief-medically induced coma using ketamine, a surgical anesthetic and hallucinogen sold illegally as "Special K." advocates say ketamine comas can be a godsend for some. "We're giving people in excruciating pain a normal life," says Dr. Robert J. Schwartzman, neurology chairman at Philadelphia's Drexel University College of Medicine; since coma therapy isn't FDA approved, he's sent more than 60 patients to Germany and Mexico. But other experts say the treatment, which costs as much as $ 50,000 with travel, is too risky. "Vulnerable people are getting something expensive and potentially dangerous," says Dr. Norman Harden of the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago.

Some 200,000 people suffer from RSD, in which ordinary pain escalates to crippling levels. "Think of holding a blowtorch to your skin," says John, whose entire left side was affected after he fell down rotted stairs and tore his rotator cuff in 2002. Because ketamine blocks pain receptors, Schwartzman says, very high doses can restart the nervous system, "like rebooting a computer."

Brandy Sachs, 23, of Christianburg, Va., had spent seven years in a wheelchair after a finger injury and ankle sprain spiraled into all-over agony. "I was giving her pain meds in doses that would have killed a horse," says her family doctor, Jeremy Freeman. Last fall, after undergoing a five-day coma in Germany, Brandy needed months of therapy to relearn how to walk, talk and eat. But now, she says, she's pain-free and plans to start her master's degree: "It's a miracle."

Not always. In October 2008, RSD patient and mother of three Laura Beckett, 47, of Magnolia, N.J., developed pneumonia while in a coma in Germany and was kept under for three weeks as doctors fought to save her. She woke up paralyzed from the neck down and now lives at a rehabilitation center. "It's an understatement to say things went wrong," says husband Karl, though he adds his wife's pain was so unbearable they would likely choose the coma again. Says Schwartzman: 'We've had tragic outcomes. But this is only attempted after every other treatment has been tried."

John, a jovial retired phone-company worker, had tried surgery, physical therapy and heavy doses of pain medication, including OxyContin, codeine and fentanyl. When nothing worked, he thought of ending it all. "I couldn't be touched," he says. "I couldn't hold my wife's hand or sleep next to her. It wasn't the life I wanted."

Back home now, John is amazed that he's been virtually pain-free. Getting regular ketamine booster injections (at non-coma levels) from his physicians, Schwartzman and Dr. Anthony Kirkpatrick, he has removed a protective compression sleeve he wore for years and can once again wear his watch and wedding ring. Best of all, he can walk hand in hand with Rosemary and scoop up his granddaughters for hugs. "I have been missing all the little joys in life," he says. "Now I want to live every one of them."

RSDSA: Information on Ketamine Treatment

The Split

US Swimmer and Beijing relay gold medalist Ricky Berens tore the back of his swimsuit in a qualifying heat of the 4x100m relay freestyle on Sunday during the World Swimming Championships in Rome. Shortly before stepping up to the starting block, the University of Texas senior leaned down to stretch and his suit tore.

"I kind of freaked out for just a second," Berens said. "I felt like [the hole] was almost down to my knees. I felt like I was putting on a pretty good show."

He did. And the US qualified for finals and won.

NSFW Photo

You try hauling this petard!

Boot straps. What is that saying, about hauling one's own arse up, about being all stiff-upper-lip-ified, and white-knuckled, too?

Have you any idea how many times the thesaurus, the dictionary, the etymological expert -- have saved me? The ant's forefoot, again. Have you forgotten? Did you never know?

When the mind swings by a grass-blade
an ant's forefoot shall save you
the clover leaf smells and tastes as its flower.
--from LXXXIII, Pisan Cantos

And so, as I sink into real despair, before I am too low to care I search all there is to know about haul, and then muck around in its vivaciousness. Vivacity? (I remember the words my last French students claimed to enjoy saying -- that is, the words whose actual mouth-feel was pleasing to them: vraisembablement, multicolore -- these two were the top choices for partying in the bouche.)

You can haul someone on the carpet. You can haul them in. Over a long or a short haul, you can haul someone over the coals, though most of us prefer to rake. You can haul off and hit someone... but then you'd better haul ass. When you're lounging in the muck of self-pity, you'd best haul yourself up by your own bootstraps.

The 2006 Oxford Companion to Ships and the Sea -- to what is not the Oxford a companion, and from whom comes its dictate to be companion to the world? -- says this about the transitive verb to haul:

the seaman's word meaning to pull. Virtually every rope that needs a pull
to perform its function is hauled at sea, never pulled. ‘Mainsail-haul’, the
order given in a square-rigged ship to haul round the after yards when it is
nearly head to wind when tacking. A ship also hauls its wind when it is brought
nearer to the wind after running free.

Hoist is probably richer.

With hoist, I get to use petard.

Of course, hoist with one's own petard has always begged the question of who else's petard would one dare hoist?

Over at the Phrase Finder, I discover a meaning that is unfamiliar: Injured by the device that you intended to use to injure others. Gary goes on to clarify:

The phrase 'hoist with one's own petar[d]' is often cited as 'hoist by one's own petar[d]'. The two forms mean the same, although the former is strictly a more accurate version of the original source. A petard is, or rather was, as they
have long since fallen out of use, a small engine of war used to blow breaches
in gates or walls. They were originally metallic and bell-shaped but later
cubical wooden boxes. Whatever the shape, the significant feature was that they
were full of gunpowder - basically what we would now call a bomb.

The device was used by the military forces of all the major European fighting
nations by the 16th century. In French and English - petar or petard, and in
Spanish and Italian - petardo.

The dictionary maker John Florio defined them like this in 1598:

"Petardo - a squib or petard of gun powder vsed to burst vp gates or doores with."

The French have the word 'péter' - to fart, which it's hard to imagine is unrelated.

Petar was part of the everyday language around that time, as in this rather colourful line from Zackary Coke in his work Logick, 1654:

"The prayers of the Saints ascending with you, will Petarr your entrances through heavens Portcullis".

Once the word is known, 'hoist by your own petard' is easy to fathom.
It's nice also to have a definitive source - no less than Shakespeare, who gives
the line to Hamlet (1603):

"For tis the sport to have the enginer Hoist
with his owne petar".

Note: engineers were originally constructors of military engines.

All this time, I thought the hoist of the petard to be the equivalent of the haul on the bootstraps.

The wonderful thing about the tiny ant's tiny forefeet? They are so small as to not even participate in the ignorance that is bliss. It's a good thing, too, since I am so obsessed with minutia.

Right?

Sometimes A Sister Needs A Brother Needs A God (II)

Stolen, lifted, 5-fingered the discount, the lock, the stock, the barrel, all from TW's various balms over at American Idyll:

Grand Canyon photos
Sockdolager Rapid (top)

Haunted Canyon cottonwoods (middle)

Clear Creek Canyon (below)

There are ghosts out in the rain tonight/High up in those ancient trees/Lord, I've given up without a fight/Another blind fool on his knees/And all the Gods that I've abandoned/Begin to speak in simple tongues/Lord, suddenly I've come to know/There are no roads left to run/Now it's the hour of dogs a-barking/That's what the old ones used to say/It's first light or it's sundown/Before the children cease their play/When the mountains glow like mission wine/And turn grey like a Spanish roan/Ten thousand eyes will stop to worship/And turn away and head on home/She is reaching out her arms tonight/Lord, my poverty is real/I pray roses shall rain down on me/From Guadalupe on her hill/But who am I to doubt these mysteries/Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke/I am the least of all your pilgrims here/I am most in need of hope/She appeared to Juan Diego/She left her image on his cape/Five hundred years of sorrow/Have not destroyed their deepest faith/But here I am your ragged disbeliever/Old doubting Thomas drowns in tears/As I watched your church sink through the earth/Like a heart worn down through fear/She is reaching out her arms tonight/Lord, my poverty is real/I pray roses shall rain down on me/From Guadalupe on her hill/But who am I to doubt these mysteries/Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke/I am the least of all your pilgrims here/But I am most in need of hope/I am the least of all your pilgrims here/But I am most in need of hope

--Tom Russell, Guadelupe

tumbleweed, tumbleweed, my
love, my love, the need,

the need, fits
like the glove.

Asystole

CONGRATULATIONS to BCBS of Tête de Hergé!

In April, you raised my premium to $1,327.00 (from $1073.00). That caused many a sleepless night, let me tell you!

And so it is completely in keeping with your absence of soul and your insatiable greed, that you should raise my premium once again, this time to $1,513.00 -- beginning in October.

YOU WIN.

I am, as I type this, falling through the cracks. I cannot pay that amount. When I called to see if there were any options left me? Oh, the Hem-and-the-Haw of it all! I could apply for cheaper coverage, opined the Customer Care Associate... but acceptance will be based on my medical history.

Given that it took the Office of the Governor to get *this* shitty coverage, I don't think BCBS of Tête de Hergé is going to offer me anything else out of the kindness of its corporate heart.

Good luck to the rest of you.

Dear President Obama,

It looks like too little, too late...

Great Performances: Pete Seeger Does 90

The Clearwater Concert:
Creating the Next Generation of Environmental Leaders

A benefit concert in celebration of

Pete Seeger's 90th Birthday

Featuring....

Pete Seeger
Tom Morello (Rage Against the Machine)
Bruce Springsteen
Tyler Ramsey (Band of Horses)
Dave Matthews
Warren Haynes
John Mellencamp
Abigail Washburn & the Sparrow Quartet
Ani DiFranco
Bernice Johnson Reagon
Arlo Guthrie
Dar Williams
Béla Fleck
Eric Weissberg
Ben Bridwell (Band of Horses)
Guy Davis
Ben Harper
Jay Ungar & Molly Mason
Billy Bragg
John Hall
Bill Nershi (String Cheese Incident)
Kate & Anna McGarrigle
Bruce Cockburn
Larry Long
Del McCoury
Martha Wainwright
Emmylou Harris
Mike & Ruthy Merenda
Joan Baez
NYC Labor Chorus
Keller Williams
Ruby Dee
Kris Kristofferson
Scarlett Lee Moore
Michael Franti
Tao Rodriguez-Seeger
Patterson Hood (Drive-By Truckers)
Teddy Thompson
Preservation Hall Jazz Band
Tom Chapin
Ramblin' Jack Elliott
Tom Paxton
Richie Havens
Tommy Sands with Moya & Fionan
Roger McGuinn
Tony Trischka
Steve Earle
Toshi Reagon
Taj Mahal

And the Native American Indian Cultural Alliance...

Bill Miller
Margo Thunderbird
Casper Lomadawa
Oren Lyons
David Amram
R. Carlos Nakai
Eddie Benton
Tiokasin Ghosthorse
Joseph Firecrow
Vernon Masayesva
Joanne Shenandoah
Victorio Roland Mousaa

All proceeds to benefit the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater (www.clearwater.org),
a non-profit organization created to defend and restore the Hudson River.

For more information, visit: www.clearwater.org.

**** **** **** **** **** **** ****

SAILING DOWN MY GOLDEN RIVER

Sailing down my golden river,
Sun and water all my own,
Yet I was never alone.

Sun and water, old life givers,
I'll have them where e'er I roam,
And I was not far from home.

Sunlight glancing on the water,
Life and death are all my own,
Yet I was never alone.

Life to raise my sons and daughters,
Golden sparkles in the foam,
And I was not far from home.

Sailing down this winding highway,
Travelers from near and far,
Yet I was never alone.

Exploring all the little by-ways,
Sighting all the distant stars,
And I was not far from home.

-- Words & music by Pete Seeger, 1971,
in support of his work with the sloop
Clearwater on the Hudson River.

**** **** **** **** **** **** ****

Pete Seeger marks his 90th year on a concert bash
By FRAZIER MOORE (AP)

NEW YORK — Pete Seeger has never paid attention to demographics or audience segments. His message has always been about inconclusiveness as a performer.

And he's a performer in many senses of the word.

"A musician, singer, songwriter, folklorist, labor activist, environmentalist, peace advocate," listed Tim Robbins at the start of an all-star gathering at Madison Square Garden last May to celebrate Seeger's 90th birthday.

This celebration has been captured as a "Great Performances" special, and it's full of passion and ideals, nostalgia for past gains and hope for the future. (It premieres this week, airing individually on PBS stations over the next few weeks; check local listings for date and time.)

Joining Seeger are more than 40 artists...

Collectively, they sing of a joyous activism and love of country. At the same time, they help shed a little light (for those of us who need it) on Seeger's remarkable impact.

The gathered talent invites the audience to join in singing "We Shall Overcome," while reminding us that it was Seeger who helped convey it from a labor song to a signal civil rights anthem.

"Turn! Turn! Turn! (to Everything There Is a Season)," a signature hit for the Byrds 40 years ago, was written by Seeger (in collaboration with the Bible), and former Byrds member McGuinn is on hand to perform it as if it had been recorded yesterday.

Mellencamp sings "If I Had a Hammer (the Hammer Song)," a peace song so immersed in the culture it's hard to believe Seeger could have written it at the dawn of the militaristic 1950s Red Scare.

The concert was a benefit for the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater, an organization Seeger started to preserve and protect the Hudson River and other natural resources. Indeed, the beautifully staged concert (and TV version) takes place on the "deck" of a "boat," with strings of lights tracing its mast and sails that rise to the rafters of the Garden. This is a vivid representation of the organization's own vessel, the gaff sloop Clearwater.

The Clearwater and its mission of conservation also inspire a song "Sailin' Up, Sailin' Down," which declares, "The river may be dirty now, but it's gettin' cleaner every day."

Baez sings "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?"

Havens serves up his powerful "Freedom."

And though he doesn't sing onstage much anymore, Seeger does what he's been doing as long as he's been singing: Leads others in song. Wiry and ruddy-faced in his jeans, cap and bright flannel work shirt, he urges the audience to take part in "Amazing Grace," heartily assuring one and all, "There's no such thing as a wrong note, as long as you're singing."

The concert ends on a high note with another rousing singalong: "This Land Is Your Land."

That's shortly after Springsteen steps on stage to perform "The Ghost of Tom Joad" in duet with Morello, the former Rage Against the Machine and Audioslave guitarist.

During his spot, it's Springsteen who perhaps best puts Seeger in perspective: "a walking, singing reminder of all of America's history ... a testament of the power of song to nudge history along."

Then, with amused admiration, he adds, "Despite Pete's somewhat benign grandfatherly appearance, he is a creature of a stubborn, defiant and nasty optimism." That makes Springsteen chuckle. "And it won't let him take a step back from the things he believes in."

This concert special is convincing evidence. Seeger sails on, like the song says, "catchin' fish and catchin' hell," in his 91st defiant, optimistic year.

On the Net:

http://www.pbs.org/gperf

http://clearwater.org

CRPS Clinical Trials

I haven't posted an update of open CRPS clinical trials in a good while. Sorry about that, and allow me to make rapid amends:

1. Autonomic Dysfunction and Spinal Cord Stimulation in Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) Vanderbilt University

To demonstrate that spinal cord stimulator has an effect on sympathetic function (the one that give us the fight and flight response). Therefore, if the spinal cord stimulator has an effect on sympathetic function, the responses from CRPS patients to different stimuli will differ significantly pre and post SCS implant. If CRPS patients exhibit autonomic, CRPS patients could be stratified according to their sympathetic function pre-implant. It is expected that patients with a moderate/mild form of autonomic dysfunction will have better outcomes with the SCS.

2. Effect of Delta-9-Tetrahydrocannabinol on the Prevention of Chronic Pain in Patients With Acute CRPS (ETIC-Study) Study at University of Munich.

3. Safety and Efficacy Study of Ethosuximide for the Treatment of Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). Pain remains the most debilitating symptom for adult patients suffering from complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS). Most CRPS patients gain little to no relief from current painkillers. The purpose of this study is to evaluate the efficacy and safety of ethosuximide in search of much-needed adjunctive therapy to relieve the pain and suffering associated with CRPS. Study at McGill University, Canada.

4. Graded Exposure (GEXP) in Vivo Versus Physiotherapy in Complex Regional Pain Syndrome Type I (CRPS-I) THIS STUDY IS NOT *YET* OPEN -- Maastricht University Medical Center in the Netherlands

5. Double Blind Placebo Controlled Study of Outpatient Intravenous Ketamine for the Treatment of CRPS Complex Regional Pain Syndrome is a debilitating and extremely difficult to treat condition. There is a large body of evidence demonstrating the therapeutic value of N-methyl-D-aspartate (NMDA)-receptor antagonists in CRPS. The NMDA antagonist ketamine has been shown to be effective in the treatment of CRPS, resulting in complete remission of the disease in some patients. The purpose of this study is to evaluate intravenous outpatient infusion of sub-anesthetic doses of ketamine for the treatment of CRPS. A thorough evaluation of this procedure, providing information into the degree of relief and which of the constellation of RSD symptoms are best alleviated by this procedure would result in the optimization of this therapy for the treatment of CRPS. Responsible Party: Drexel University College of Medicine (Dr. Robert J. Schwartzman, MD)

6. Pain Exposure Physical Therapy (PEPT) Versus CBO in Patients With Complex Regional Pain Syndrome Type I (CRPS-1) (PEPTOC) THIS STUDY IS NOT *YET* OPEN. Radboud Univ. in the Netherlands

7. Association Between Focal Dystonia and Complex Regional Pain Syndrome an NIH study:
This study will investigate differences among people with focal dystonia (FD), complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS) and people who have both conditions to learn more about the cause of both disorders. Participants undergo the following procedures in five visits:

Electroencephalography (EEG). Electrodes (metal discs) are placed on the scalp with an electrode cap, a paste or a glue-like substance. The spaces between the electrodes and the scalp are filled with a gel that conducts electrical activity. Brain waves are recorded while the subject lies quietly and sensory stimulation is applied to the thumb or finger.
Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI). This test uses a magnetic field and radio waves to obtain images of body tissues and organs. The patient lies on a table that can slide in and out of the scanner, wearing earplugs to muffle loud knocking and thumping sounds that occur during the scanning process. The procedure lasts about 45 minutes, during which time the patient will be asked to lie still for up to 15 minutes at a time.
Transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS). An insulated wire coil is placed on the scalp and a brief electrical current is passed through the coil. The current induces a magnetic field that stimulates the brain. There may be a pulling sensation on the skin under the coil and a twitch in muscles of the face, arm or leg. During the stimulation, subjects may be asked to keep their hands relaxed or to contract certain muscles.
Peripheral electrical stimulation. In two experiments, TMS is combined with peripheral electrical stimulation, similar to what is used in nerve conduction studies, to the median nerve at the wrist. There may be muscle twitching.
Surface electromyography. For TMS tests and peripheral electrical stimulation, electrodes are filled with a conductive gel and taped to the skin to record the electrical activity of three muscles on the right hand.
Needle EMG. A needle is inserted into a muscle to record the electrical activity.
Nerve conduction studies. A probe is placed on the skin to deliver a small electrical stimulus, and wires are taped to the skin record the nerve impulses. These studies measure the speed with which nerves conduct electrical impulses and the strength of the connection between the nerve and the muscles.
Skin biopsy. Two sites are biopsied. A local anesthetic is given to numb the area and a 1/4-inch piece of skin is removed with a special tool.
JVP domes. Subjects are tested for their ability to discriminate sensory stimuli in the affected region and on the other side of it. They are asked to discriminate between stamps with grooves of different widths that are applied to the hands or feet.

8. The Effect of Transcranial Direct Current Stimulation (t-DCS) On the P300 Component of Event-Related Potentials in Patients With Chronic Neuropathic Pain Due To CRPS or Diabetic Neuropathy This study is not yet open for participant recruitment. Soroka University Medical Center in Beersheba, Israel

9. A Study of the Effect of Lenalidomide on Complex Regional Pain Syndrome Type 1
Mayo Clinic -- Rochester, Minnesota
More on Lenalidomide here.

10. Evoked Fields After Median and Ulnar Stimulation
Medical Center Alkmaar
Rudolf Magnus Institute – University of Utrecht
Technical University of Twente
VU University of Amsterdam
Dept. of Clinical Neurophysiology - VU University Hospital Amsterdam
Human Brain Mapping and Cortical Imaging Laboratory, Centre for Sensory – Motor Interaction, Aalborg University
Intervention = Evoked fields before and after a local block (Xylocaine)

11. Pregabalin Versus Placebo as an Add on for Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CPRS) of the Upper Limb Managed by Stellate Ganglion Block (The PREGA Study)
McMaster University, Ontario, Canada

12. The Efficacy of Motor Cortex Stimulation for Pain Control
The objective is to determine if motor cortex stimulation works for the following conditions:
Deafferentation facial pain,
Upper extremity complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS) and
Brachial plexus avulsion or phantom limb pain.
Each of these groups of 6 patients (total of 18) will be studied independently and all patients will be implanted with a motor cortex stimulation system.

13. Neurotropin to Treat Chronic Neuropathic Pain An NINR study, Bethesda, Maryland

14. Evaluation and Diagnosis of People With Pain and Fatigue Syndromes
An NINR study; No treatment is offered under this protocol.

15. Regional Anesthesia Military Battlefield Pain Outcomes Study (RAMBPOS)
The purpose of this study is to examine the short and long-term benefits of implementing early advanced regional anesthesia techniques for pain control, such as reducing pain disability and the incidence and severity of mental health disorders, following major traumatic injuries to extremities encountered during combat in the Iraqi/Afghanistan war. Dept. of Veterans Affairs/Walter Reed

16. Susceptibility to Chronic Post-Traumatic Extremity Pain The association between the COMT haplotypes and the presence or absence of CPSP or CRPS will be assessed stratifying the patients based on the individual categories of trauma or elective surgery. William Beaumont Hospitals, Michigan

17. N/A Cardiac Rehabilitation Programs = (CRPs)!

18. N/A

19. Cerebrospinal Fluid Repository (CSF) The purpose of a CSF repository is to collect samples of spinal fluid from controls and patients with neurologic disorders including but not exclusively ALS, Dementia, CRPS, neuropathies, and other neuromuscular diseases. This CSF repository will allow the use of CSF in biochemical studies of various neurologic diseases. It would also provide a supply of the necessary normal and disease control patients. CSF would be obtained from patients who are undergoing spinal taps for other reasons including diagnosis, treatment, or participation in clinical trials. We are proposing to collect an additional <>

Leontina

oH sWEET mOTHER OF gOD! I managed to cobble together seven hours of sleep, with another hour of the twilight drool stage about half way through.

So *this* is what it feels like to wake up energized! I like it, I like it very much.

Poor Fred. Instead of being the protector of his sleep this morning, I must wake him in a few minutes, as we need to be out the door in just a bit, piled into Ruby the CR-V, and on the Yellow Brick Road to see Dr. ShoulderMan, my orthopedic surgeon. I cannot drive, unfortunately -- meaning that I am not licensed (I am, in fact, an excellent driver) -- so he chauffeurs me to all appointments. Most every scheduler with whom I deal knows to pencil me in for the early afternoon slots, as Poor Darling Fred and I are confirmed night owls.

At least, I was a night owl, before the days of osteomyelitis and infected orthopedic prostheses, CRPS, and all those other pesky comorbidities. Now I am a temporally unaffiliated owl.

The surgeon is going to render an opinion about the -- excuse me -- junky gunk both palpable in my arm and oozing from the incision (he last operated on 7/6). His PA's eyes bugged out last week when he examined that shoulder. Since then, though, I finished my course of Zyvox (all $2900 worth), and hopefully that will make a difference.

Yesterday, Fred drove me all around town and I had a great time. Conceivably, it wore me out enough, too, that I was able to sleep. Hmmm. If I can, I'll try and wear myself out again today!

What did we do yesterday? Well, I saw Dr. PainDude's nurse practitioner -- she is infinitely more helpful and, in my experience, more knowledgeable, than the good doctor. Plus she wears some killer shoes. Not that her shoes turn me on, or anything. No, it is just that I have not been able to wear shoes since May 2002. And I love shoes. Particularly Italian shoes.

Allison sported a pair of Leontinas: Supersexy red patent cocco kidskin mule with 150mm extreme heel and genuine leather sole, insole and lining. Entirely hand-made using highest quality leather and natural fabric by master Italian shoemakers.

She did share that her feet hurt.

We covered a wide variety of topics: the deleterious effect of celebrities who off themselves by misuse of pain medication (or, rather, in her estimation -- ill-advised combinations of drugs); the evil Dr. Scott Reuben and his own deleterious effect on the world of pain medicine; my particular situation (she used to work for my orthopedic surgeon); the price of Zyvox and tea in China.

Super shoes. Prescriptions for methadone, percocet, tizanidine, and amitriptyline. Could life get any better? [Shut. Up. I. Am. Being. Ironic. Sardonic. All. Kinds. Of. -Ics.]

I have worked out an effective pain management regimen, about which I keep her and Dr. PainDude informed. It's a combination of pharmaceuticals -- and that means as little drug as possible -- and distraction -- but mostly? Lately, I have resorted to heavy doses of meditation and basic relaxation techniques. It has caused some unrest here at Marlinspike Hall, deep, deep in the Tête de Hergé, as Fred, La Bonne et Belle Bianca Castafiore (a sister shoe freak), and the Four Felines all feel "cut off," deprived of my affection and attention.

Still, the pain is pretty bad. It hits me in those periods when I'm not covered by my "regimen." Like right now -- I need to take breakthrough pain meds, do some pendulum swings, work on my legs (a whole other post), and take a mental ax to the anxiety surging through my body at the thought of what the surgeon may propose. If forced to resort to the dreaded Pain Scale, I am at a 7.

And out of time! Think good thoughts -- think "no surgery--no surgery--no surgery--no surgery--no surgery." Cross the applicable digits.

[Thanks!]

In High Cuss (Dungeon and Dudgeon)

I am angry with myself. I've been exceedingly dumb.

Because I knew and didn't go in. I vacillated. I hemmed, hawed, and poled down the longest stretch of inland water, that mighty, rolling African river.

Fred has great pictures of Lake Tana, where the Blue Nile begins.

Ethiopia Travel hawks its ware: "1 lake, 37 Islands, 14th century Monasterys and the blue Nile Falls!"

"1 lake, 37 Islands, 14th century Monasterys and the blue Nile Falls!"

"1 lake, 37 Islands, 14th century Monasterys and the blue Nile Falls!"

We just got back from the first post op visit chez ShoulderMan. The first visit is with his Physician's Assistant, and usually consists of two views of the shoulder in x-ray, and having the nurse remove either the staples or the stitches. Having been through this six times now, it is usually a ho-hum deal, with the exciting pay-off of finally being able to take a shower!

Last night there was a minor explosion from the suture line. (Sorry, I don't intend to gross you out. Really.) I was changing the dressing and lightly touched on an area that was red and well, hmmm, there was, as I said, an explosion.

The PA said to be ready to go back in. That he was calling the surgeon. That likely they'd have to go in and do a wash, maybe remove the prosthesis, go back to the freaking spacer. I know he was just trying to prepare me for any eventuality. He also opined that maybe I could use a little more time with the Zyvox. (I vigorously supported that thought.)

The pain is worse, and I have lost all the range of motion gained early after the last surgery.

Fred --in shock, I think -- drove us home in high cuss. "High cuss" is my attempt to graft something new off of "high dudgeon," about which Michael Quinion of World Wide Words fields this query:

[Q] From L Crary Myers: I have seen others attempt to answer this, but apparently maddeningly little is known. You always seem to manage to find something interesting, however — so, here is the question: from whence the phrase in high dudgeon? Thank you, and I am an avid fan of your site.

[A] “Maddeningly little is known” is unfortunately a fair summary. I’ll try to add a little more, but it is one of a distressingly large group of words for which we have no idea of their origins. The group includes a couple of others also ending in -udgeon: bludgeon and curmudgeon.

Dudgeon means a state of anger, resentment, or offence and often turns up as in dudgeon or in high dudgeon The Oxford English Dictionary can’t give its source, though it’s sure it’s not from the Welsh word dygen, meaning malice or resentment, which has been suggested in the past. It does point to endugine, a word recorded just once, in 1638, with the same sense, which might have given us a clue, but doesn’t help at all.

It also records another sense of the word, itself mysterious, for a kind of wood used by turners, especially the handles of knives or daggers. It has been suggested it was another name for boxwood. It appears in Shakespeare’s Macbeth: “I see thee still, / And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, / Which was not so before.” Later the word was used for a dagger whose handle was made of this wood.

It just might be that a state of anger or resentment could have led to the grabbing of a dudgeon knife with intent to redress a slight, but there’s no evidence whatever of the connection.

It's embarrassing to admit, but I am one of those who have said "high dungeon," when, of course, "high dudgeon" was what I meant. Or would have meant, if I had known better.

Better to author a new phrase than mangle an old one, so "high cuss," it is.

On the bright side, given that Bob didn't tell me to stay NPO, surgery cannot happen tomorrow.
There's that, at least.

We're going to brew some coffee, start the day over. We bought a bag of $3 coffee at the local ALbrecht DIscount which, go figure, brews something almost divine, it is so straightforward, pure. The coffee, not ALbrecht DIscount.
**********************************************************************************************
Ah, some good news from the fantastically tall and exceedingly kind Bob the PA! He phoned the surgeon who wants to watch and wait, wait and see.

***Now Friday (saw Bob on Tuesday): Sadly, we have achieved pus, that purulent exudate, itself. Very localised pain, and a sitting-behind-the-eyes steady fever.

I'm cleaning up the evidence, wrapping gauze hither and yon, taping tape-to-tape, swabbing, dabbing, daubing, staunching. I'm possibly going nuts. I just might grab my dudgeon knife in a vain attempt to redress this slight.

To all medicos in the Monday-to-Friday world: Don't leave people hanging over the weekend. Not when they're leaking purulent exudate!

Bob pretty much said surgery is the only answer... unless the Zyvox kicks in.
So pray that the Zyvox kicks in.

photo credit

Joy to the World

By now, Everyone and Everyone's sister has seen this YouTube video of the awesome dancing wedding party -- but it was new to me this morning when it was aired on the Today Show.

It was the bride's idea -- she values dance, is a dancer. There was only one rehersal that lasted about an hour and a half. A good portion of the choreography was freestyle, spirit-led.

It's a great way to start the day -- a wonderful way to start a marriage!

(Word to my friends over at the big bald guy's place -- about marriage and relationships, and the dance involved --Remember the Church Lady? Well, she strikes again! Fred started fussing and talking to himself yesterday afternoon, slipping into his go-to-town clothes, leaving me alone out in the hot Tête de Hergé sun, cleaning and scraping the sides of our Murky Moat -- yes, the annual algae attack -- this time? Atomic Tangerine, a very rare strain. Anyway, it seems that the Church Lady has gone out of town and has engaged Fred to visit her house daily -- to feed her TURTLES. Good God.)