Discovery

I'm going to be leaving town for a few days. Well, a week, actually. I'll be relaxing down at the coast, in the top-secret Bachelor family retreat, about twenty miles south of where Lewis and Clark made it to the ocean, two hundred years ago. Cell phones do not work there unless one is standing on top of a large hill, and I don't own a laptop. Furthermore, my mother is going into the hospital tomorrow for exploratory surgery on some Thing that is in between her liver and colon. So maybe I'll instead be spending a bit of time hanging around a Lane County hospital.
The nice thing is, as I've spent the better part of my life in dentist's chairs (I had bad teeth before I even had teeth), I'm not one to be bullshitted by health care professionals. Later, when I worked at a hospital (movin' stuff: well, Material Transportation Technician, then later in Medical Records), I noticed the stunning arrogance displayed toward the patient by the provider. Like they were busted cars or something, and didn't need anything in the way of explanation for what was happening to them.
I understand why this is often the case: you can't become too emotionally attatched to strangers who are currently clients who might just die. However, if the staff doesn't provide me with clear explanations, or are oblivious to the fact that maybe I am more familiar with my case than they are, or are lax in their attitudes toward pain management, I go all commando and remind them that, despite the enormous amount they spent on their educations and current God-like omnipotence, they are still my employees. Fortunately, my stepfather is the same way.
Along the lines of not getting too attatched: my job as a mover of stuff required me to be in the emergency room a lot, waiting for lab samples to run. I had gotten my friend a job there too, and one night it hit him:
"Those two guys from the motorcycle wreck they just brought in? They're our age!"
"Yup," I said, "And people our age, older and younger, die every day."
He got all red for a minute. "So you just harden yourself to it?"
"No."
"But you have to accept it."
"Exactly."
This puts me in a mood to do a posting about all the jobs I've had, and I've had a lot. Maybe that will be the last project before I go. I've got some pretty big worries on my mind, but I can't really even worry yet, since we don't know anything.
You know, this one was going to be about Lewis and Clark. The Corps of Discovery found their way to the ocean about two hundred ago, as I said, and on the anniversary year, Oregon always goes nuts. I'm really in the mood for quiet, so I'm probably not going to be joining in any of the festivities, but all the same, Meri and Will, belated congrats. "Ocean in sight. O the joy!", indeed.
Mind you, Clark couldn't spell to save his life, so it was really 'Ocian', 'site' and 'joi', but you get the picture.