a little ketchup


dialysisMy hemodialysis today : smoothish, which is better, mainly due to me practicing medicine part-time, stickhandling the timing of taking blood pressure meds.  I had experienced too low a blood pressure duing dialysis and that made it difficult to have a fully effective treatment.  The change was simply to move the night-time meds earlier in the evening.  This meant almost exactly 12 hours passed before dialysis began at 745 AM or so.   Treatment is four hours long, four times per week.  I had dropped below 100/nn and leaving at 104/nn to 110/nn.  Today I was around 140/nn and left at 124/nn.

Yesterday I reviewed this with my family physician, who concurred.  There is no on site nephrologist at the dialysis unit in Penetanguishene, Ontario.

J.D Salinger documentary released last year.  Watched it and learned a lot of details.  His life long obsession with loving young, innocent women, seems to be a never-ending attempt to recover from the abandonment by Oona O’Neill who had been his girlfriend and married an older Charlie Chaplin (she was 18, CC was 54).  JDS was in US Army Basic Training and found about the marriage by the newspapers.  The creepiest detail for me was the writing bunker he used for decades, but particularly chilling how he ignored his young family and lived in his “world” in that cement block house with his characters and they were his “true” family.  Perhaps their charm came in part because they could not abandon him.

One thing which caught my attention in the film was his WWII service as a combat counter intelligence sergeant. It seems to me that combat is bad enough, but the added stress is the responsibility you have as a CCIC non-com to get the local area intelligence correct to save lives, if you screw up you can get a lot of guys killed not just you and a couple of guys in your squad.

Also, I was reminded how Americans never seem to know or remember the Hurtgen Forest, a vicious, terribly costly battle. One common detail of it was the evergreen forest thick and boggy, mediaeval in atmosphere, and the terrible effect of wood splinters raining down as the German artillery burst up in the trees, worse than shrapnel in a strange way. The way to survive was to stand up and hug a tree trunk, the splinters did not have as easy a chance to get you.

The writer who lived that battle and wrote some outstanding books, a shelf of them, was Paul Fussell. If you haven’t, check him out.

These days I wonder what Holden Caulfield would say on his twitter account?

Even with reservations, a great documentary film.

Facebook – new project:

Grace the pup page, offering advice on being a dog and being a human being, laced with photos of my golden retriever has gained over 60 followers in two days, Thanks to Facebook user Sebastian Cabot, the beagle.

see it at https://www.facebook.com/Gracethegoldenretriever

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Author: William J. Gibson

62 year old - writer/photographer Canadian, survived open heart surgery, received kidney transplant, sometimes dour, sometimes amusing, over six feet in height, severely follicle challemged

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