Comments on: Blessings

By: jon soroko

jon soroko — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 20:43:18 +0000

I’ve been there – cracked ribs, no insurance. And I was lucky it wasn’t worse; ribs generally heal themselves.
Our system is barbaric, and bizarrely inefficient. We spent 10 – 11 X per capita compared to other industrial countries. And while some doctors don’t behave well – they’re not the problem. I’m afraid it’s the insurance companies and pharma that will fight for every inch of ground.

By: Larry Jones

Larry Jones — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 18:41:25 +0000

Jennifer – When I am near a television on a weekday afternoon, I choose Ellen. The dancing’s way better.

By: Jennifer

Jennifer — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 17:17:25 +0000

Oh my GOD! You’ve been watching Oprah, haven’t you!?!

By: MPH

MPH — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 07:05:16 +0000

http://sevenfeetofthoughts.blogspot.com/

By: Larry Jones

Larry Jones — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 06:54:59 +0000

In keeping with my new, chipper online personality, I can’t write a post about my broken bone. But I can comment on it. It was actually more like fifteen years ago now that I think of it. I was playing basketball in the park (my last basketball game, as it turns out). I went up for a jump shot and the defender, badly out of position, rushed at me while I was in the air. He was determined to stop my shot, but it was too late for that. He couldn’t stop his charge, either, and he ran into my right side, turning me sideways in the air (that is, parallel to the earth’s surface). I came straight down onto the asphalt on my right elbow, shattering it. I didn’t think it was broken, but I knew something was very wrong. I went home and iced it, but the pain wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I didn’t have medical insurance, so the next day I got a ride to a walk-in clinic, where they “diagnosed” the break. “Great,” I said. “Let’s fix it.” Unfortunately, they don’t fix things at the clinic. They just diagnose them. They sent me to a doctor’s office to set the bone. The pain was getting quite intense, and every bump in the road felt as if someone was whacking my elbow with a hammer. I waited for a half hour before the doctor’s assistant told me “Doctor will only accept cash.” I had a checkbook and about a hundred grand in credit cards, but they made me go back and get $200 in greenbacks (bumpity-bump down the Road of Agony) before they would set my arm. When I got back and gave them the money, the doctor used some kind of thick tape to wrap my arm. First he soaked the tape in warm water, then wrapped it around the break. As it dried, it hardened into a cast that went from my armpit to my wrist, and the pain was magically gone! I was told I would have to keep the cast for six weeks. I wouldn’t have agreed to such a thing under normal circumstances, but the pain of a cracked elbow will make me do funny things. At the time my car had a five-speed manual transmission (it still does, probably, but it’s not my car anymore), and I was an outside rep for several manufacturers of professional audio gear. I lived in my car (not literally), and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to drive. For about a week I steered and shifted with my left hand. Think about it. One day I tried using my broken arm. It wasn’t graceful, but it worked fine. Later I tested the cast by smacking my arm against a wall. Couldn’t feel a thing. That was good, but I couldn’t take showers — I didn’t want water to get down in there and form a stagnant, reeking puddle that I couldn’t get at. So I took baths, holding my cast up out of the water. I didn’t feel really clean for six weeks. When the doctor finally cut the cast off my elbow was very stiff and I didn’t know for sure if it was fully healed, but the nurse demanded that I put it in a few extremely awkward positions and hold them perfectly still while she took x-rays and called me a crybaby. The x-rays showed that the elbow had healed. The doctor volunteered that it was too bad I couldn’t afford physical therapy because without it my elbow would “never be the same.” Fuck him. Fuck the American for-profit medical system that makes it OK for a doctor — a doctor — to send an injured man off to get cash before he will treat a broken bone.

By: Holly

Holly — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 05:20:36 +0000

What bone did you break ten or so years ago? Sounds like an interesting post.

By: kStyle

kStyle — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 13:51:12 +0000

“You see, Larry, you really have had a wonderful life.”

By: Narya

Narya — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 12:54:18 +0000

Back in the day, when I contemplated advertising for a partner (in personals ads), I made a mental list of what I’d look for, which turned out to be a useful exercise even though I never wrote such an ad. One of my big requests? That he had either played a sport or an instrument–because doing either (or both) requires a certain amount of willingness to practice, to suck at something for awhile and soldier on, and possibly to accept one’s own mediocrity but play for the joy of it. So I don’t think the music thing with you is just luck or happenstance or whathaveyou.

By: Gnightgirl

Gnightgirl — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 00:12:25 +0000

Hey Larry!

Glad you’re keeping your chin up over there. Just a note to tell you that I’m still reading every one of YOUR words too, and don’t go thinking I’ve ever stopped lurking. Love to you and Mrs. J!

By: Wren

Wren — Mon, 03 Mar 2008 15:35:34 +0000

I second Blue Girl.

But also, it’s good for the soul to stop now and then and take note of the good stuff, even when it’s not the same good stuff you thought you’d have by now. I was going to be a rich, famous artist/writer who spent most of her time in European resorts sipping coffees and being both tragic and gloriously beautiful. Heh… well. What I ended up with is just fine. I do get to sip good coffees, I do write and I do some art. I’m not … um… rich, or famous, or beautiful (at least in the way I saw ‘beautiful’ back then). And thankfully, I’m not “tragic.” But I’m good with all of it.

Listened to you making your music. You’re GOOD! What an honor to hear an artist sharing his best work. Thanks, Larry.