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|WARNING: THIS SITE FEATURES ORIGINAL THINKING...Jim Croce once sang Don't tug on Superman's cape..., which seems like reasonable advice should we not wish to anger the supreme powers. We do have this duality in our culture: the Superman that is the state collective, the leftist call to a politics of meaning managed by the state, the deification of "we're from the government and we'll take care of you" - versus the Superman that celebrates individual freedom, private property, freedom of conscience, free enterprise, and limited government. We humbly take on the latter's mantle and, eschewing the feeble tug, we dare to PULL, in hope of seeing freedom's rescue from the encroaching nanny state. We invite you, dear reader, to come and pull as well... Additionally, if you assume that means that we are unflinching, unquestioning GOP zombies, that would be incorrect. We reject statism in any form and call on individuals in our country to return to the original, classical liberalism of our founders. (We're also passionate about art, photography, cooking, technology, Judeo/Christian values, and satire as unique, individual pursuits of happiness to celebrate.)|
Superman's product of the century (so far):
I wasn't really feeling well around Thanksgiving - this in 2006. I'd just completed my fifth trip (pretty sure it was my fifth in 2006 - I've got so many, many pictures from 2006 that I haven't taken the time to go through to put some up on this site) to Japan. After getting back, I just couldn't seem to shake the jet lag. Maybe I was just pushing too hard. Maybe I wasn't taking good care of myself. Maybe it was both, maybe more...
Anyway, just about Christmas, I started going down hill pretty fast. Christmas time was great. Weather was great. The occasion was great. I just wasn't.
I've never really realized how sick one can get so fast. I do remember many years ago coming down with pneumonia - it was pretty quick and I did get really sick - but it wasn't like this.
As I attempt to recall those several days it seems like a fog. Perhaps I was zombie-like. I'm not sure - I remember not being able to sleep, my heart racing, feeling like clots were passing around in my body, extreme fatigue.
On the morning of New Year's Eve, I knew that I couldn't make it any longer. I headed to the emergency room - let them know I was coming. They met me at the door with a wheel chair - hustled me in.
There's nothing quite like the experience of having medical professionals, who have done their work for a long time, gather around you in a room, with eyes as wide as saucers as they examine you and 'wire you up'. I wasn't really afraid until I could see their fear.
I was exhibiting most symptoms of a heart attack. My BP was through the roof. They administered some drugs to reduce my BP and relax me. They did an EKG. They treated me with great respect. They watched me. They were prepared to instigate immediate and invasive action, but they waited and watched. They did some more tests.
Eventually, they decided that whatever episode I had was not a heart attack - but it was a clear warning sign from my body. They scheduled me for a series of tests - all applications of heroic Western medicine - to see what was going on with me.
It was the start of another journey for me, one in which I have begun to assign myself as one of my projects - something needing attention like the work gets.
The next few months were a time of discovery - and also a time when they tried (OK, not volitionally, but I couldn't tell the difference) to kill me while trying to figure out what was going on.
But that's another story...
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Well, what did they find out? Don't leave it hanging like that, the suspense is killing me! I hope this means you're ok, I've been wondering what's been up with you. The arboretum wasn't the same without you!
Posted by: jan at Feb 5, 2008 11:13:25 AM
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