December 8, 2016: Cortisone shots; Loving the Pope
In religion and politics: The Popes is the shizz! If I were going to go Christian, or any other religion, I would turn Catholic. For the record, that will not happen.
This Pope just seems to get it. Yesterday he came out and said:
- Spreading fake news is a sin.
- Consuming fake news is like eating feces.
For gamblers: bet on the Pope in a cage fight with Trump. Ten falls out of ten.
Note to the Pope: dude, human brains are just too feeble to help themselves. The stupid cannot tell fake news from real news. The overly anxious believe conspiracy theories and fake news as a way to calm down. Either way, consumption of fake news and conspiracy theories really amounts to a coping mechanism: humans need to make sense of their environment. Interestingly, the easy access to social media seems to be turning humans more overtly tribal they have been for the previous couple of decades. More thought on this possibly later.
Under the heading of getting old: Androp Gerard has been having enough issues with his shoulder that he would benefit from a visit to a physician. Here is what happened when he got is first cortisone shot in the shoulder:
Student Doctor, very slowly, very seriously, looking Androp in they eye, “This shot is non-therapeutic.”
Me, to self, “WTF does that mean?”
Student, “It may help with the pain.”
Me, to self, “How is that not therapeutic? The definition of that word needs to be ascertained.” Shakes head up and down.
Student, “Sit here, lean over that.”
Teacher Doctor comes in looks around, and then to student “What direction are you going in from?”
Student, “**Technical description of cramming a long needle in me **”
Teacher, to Student, “Oookkaaaay?”
Me, to self, “Goddamit! The Teacher thinks the Student is doing it wrong! This really is not happening.”
Student, to me, “This might hurt some. Most people feel a little pain.”
Me, to self, “*** No shit. Great news. Needle goes in. Yes, indeed, it does hurt a bit. **I am not here. I am not here. I am not here. This is not happening **”
Student, to Teacher, “Is it in far enough in?”
Teacher, “No. I do not think so. **technical description saying ‘cram the needle in deeper**”
Me, to self, “Sooofabitch do they not know I am right here? I am not here actually. I am not here. I am not here. I am not here **”
Student, to Teacher, “Now? Deep enough?”
Teacher, to Student, “I do not know. Are you on bone?”
Student, grinding, “Yes.”
Me, to self, matter of fact, calm, “Yup. On bone alright. Fine. Oh look: I am sweating several pints out through my arm pits. Tricking off my nose, down my back. Puddles are forming on the floor, and in my socks. They will need a mop. I will need new underwear.”
Teacher, to Student, “See the liquid bubbling in? Not too fast. —pause—excitedly — Do not pull in needle out, leave it in!”
Me, to self, “Docs, I am right here. What about this do you think is okay? This is the last one of these I will get. The. Last. One. I will die before I get this done to me again. I. Will. Die. First.”
So that experience explains my current reluctance to make the appointment. Plus, I distrust Doctors as much as I distrust anyone, which is quite a lot. So there is that.
However, the cortisone shot was effective, even if non-therapeutic.