Monday, March 28, 2005

Life or Death...


As the courts have ruled that Terri Schiavo's feeding tube cannot be reinserted it is very apparent that she will soon die. The media has had a field day with this story, hailing it as a battle of a woman's right to die, of a family's business and not the courts, etc, etc. Of course the one argument in this whole issue is that since she is in a persist ant vegetative state there is no chance for her to have any type of recovery. But, I ask you, what constitutes a 'vegetative' state? Is it the lack of ability to see, recognize, and respond to your surroundings? If that is the case then I offer these video's of Terri, pre-feeding tube removal. here is her family's site.

Here is a testimony of a former nurse of Terri's, it's quite interesting and if its true then the whole case makes quite a bit of sense.

AFFIDAVIT: STATE OF FLORIDA COUNTY OF PINELLAS


BEFORE ME the undersigned authority personally appeared CARLA SAUER
IYER, R.N., who being first duly sworn, deposes and says:

1. My name is Carla Sauer Iyer. I am over the age of eighteen and make this statement of my own personal knowledge.

2. I am a registered nurse in the State of Florida, having been licensed continuously in Florida from 1997 to the present. Prior to that I was a Licensed Practical Nurse for about four years.

3. I was employed at Palm Garden of Largo Convalescent Center in Largo, Florida from April of 1995 to July 1996, while Terri Schiavo was a patient there.

4. It was clear to me at Palm Gardens that all decisions regarding Terri Schiavo were made by Michael Schiavo, with no allowance made for any discussion, debate or normal professional judgment. My initial training there consisted solely of the instruction "Do what Michael Schiavo tells you or you will be terminated." This struck me as extremely odd.

5. I was very disturbed by the decision making protocol, as no allowance whatsoever was made for professional responsibility. The atmosphere throughout the facility was dominated by Mr. Schiavo's intimidation. Everyone there, with the exception of several people who seemed to be close to Michael, was intimidated by him. Michael Schiavo always had an
overbearing attitude, yelling numerous times such things as "This is my order and you're going to follow it." He is very large and uses menacing body language, such as standing too close to you, getting right in your face and practically shouting.

6. To the best of my recollection, rehabilitation had been ordered for Terri, but I never saw any being done or had any reason at all to believe that there was ever any rehab of Terri done at Palm Gardens while I was there. I became concerned because nothing was being done for Terri at all, no antibiotics, no tests, no range of motion therapy, no stimulation, no nothing. Michael said again and again that Terri should NOT get any rehab, that there should be no range of motion whatsoever, or anything else. I and a CNA named Roxy would give Terri range of motion anyway. One time I put a wash cloth in Terri's hand to keep her fingers from curling together, and Michael saw it and made me take it out, saying that was therapy.

7. Terri's medical condition was systematically distorted and misrepresented. When I worked with her, she was alert and oriented. Terri spoke on a regular basis while in my presence, saying such things as "mommy," and "help me." "Help me" was, in fact, one of her most frequent utterances. I heard her say it hundreds of times. Terri would try to say the word "pain" when she was in discomfort, but it came out more like "pay." She didn't say the "n" sound very well. During her menses she would indicate her discomfort by saying "pay" and moving her arms toward her lower abdominal area. Other ways that she would
indicate that she was in pain included pursing her lips, grimacing, thrashing in bed, curling her toes or moving her legs around. She would let you know when she had a bowel movement by flipping up the covers and pulling on her diaper.

8. When I came into her room and said "Hi, Terri", she would always recognize my voice and her name, and would turn her head all the way toward me, saying "Haaaiiiii" sort of, as she did. I recognized this as a "hi", which is very close to what it sounded like, the whole sound being only a second or two long. When I told her humorous stories about my life or something I read in the paper, Terri would chuckle, sometimes more a giggle or laugh. She would move her whole body, upper and lower. Her legs would sometimes be off the bed, and need to be repositioned. I made numerous entries into the nursing notes in her chart, stating verbatim what she said and her various behaviors, but by my next on-duty shift, the notes would be deleted from her chart. Every time I made a positive entry about any responsiveness of Terri's, someone would remove it after my shift ended. Michael always demanded to see her chart as soon as he arrived, and would take it in her room with him. I documented Terri's rehab potential well, writing whole pages about Terri's responsiveness, but they would always be deleted by the next time I saw her chart. The reason I wrote so much was that everybody else seemed to be afraid to make positive entries for fear of their jobs, but I felt very strongly that a nurses job was to accurately record everything we see and hear that bears on a patients condition and their family. I upheld the Nurses Practice Act, and if it cost me my job, I was willing to accept that.

9. Throughout my time at Palm Gardens, Michael Schiavo was focused on Terri's death. Michael would say "When is she going to die?," "Has she died yet?" and "When is that bitch gonna die?" These statements were common knowledge at Palm Gardens, as he would make them casually in passing, without regard even for who he was talking to, as long as it was a staff member. Other statements which I recall him making include "Can't you do anything to accelerate her death - won't she ever die?" When she wouldn't die, Michael would be furious. Michael was also adamant that the family should not be given information. He made numerous statements such as "Make sure the parents aren't contacted." I recorded Michael's statements word for word in Terri's chart, but these entries were also deleted after the end of my shift. Standing orders were that the family wasn't to be contacted, in fact, there was a large sign in the front of her chart that said under no circumstances was her family to be called, call Michael immediately, but I would call them, anyway, because I thought they should know about their daughter.

10. Any time Terri would be sick, like with a UTI or fluid buildup in her lungs, colds, pneumonia, Michael would be visibly excited, thrilled even, hoping that she would die. He would call me, as I was the nurse supervisor on the floor, and ask for every little detail about her temperature, blood pressure, etc., and would call back frequently asking if she was dead yet. He would blurt out "I'm going to be rich!," and would talk about all the things he would buy when Terri died, which included a new car, a new boat, and going to Europe, among other things.

11. When Michael visited Terri, he always came alone and always had the door closed and locked while he was with Terri. He would typically be there about twenty minutes or so. When he left Terri would would be trembling, crying hysterically, and would be very pale and have cold sweats. It looked to me like Terri was having a hypoglycemic reaction, so I'd check her blood sugar. The glucometer reading would be so low it was below the range where it would register an actual number reading. I would put dextrose in Terri's mouth to counteract it. This happened about five times on my shift as I recall. Normally Terri's blood sugar levels were very stable due to the uniformity of her diet through tube feeding. It is my belief that Michael injected Terri with Regular insulin, which is very fast acting.

12. The longer I was employed at Palm Gardens the more concerned I became about patient care, both relating to Terri Schiavo, for the reasons I've said, and other patients, too. There was an LPN named Carolyn Adams, known as "Andy" Adams who was a particular concern. An unusual number of patients seemed to die on her shift, but she was completely unconcerned, making statements such as "They are old - let them die." I couldn't believe her attitude or the fact that it didn't
seem to attract any attention. She made many comments about Terri being a waste of money, that she should die. She said it was costing Michael a lot of money to keep her alive, and that he complained about it constantly (I heard him complain about it all the time, too.) Both Michael and Adams said that she would be worth more to him if she were dead. I ultimately called the police relative to this situation, and was terminated the next day. Other reasons were cited, but I was convinced
it was because of my "rocking the boat."

13. Ms. Adams was one of the people who did not seem to be intimidated by Michael. In fact, they seemed to be very close, and Adams would do whatever Michael told her. Michael sometimes called Adams at night and spoke at length. I was not able to hear the content of these phone calls, but I knew it was him talking to her because she would tell me afterward and relay orders from him.

14. While at Palm Gardens, I became fearful for my personal safety. This was due to Michael's constant intimidation, including his menacing body language, vocal tone and mannerisms.

15. I have contacted the Schindler family because I just couldn't stand by and let Terri die without the truth being known.

FURTHER AFFIANT SAYETH NAUGHT.

CARLA SAUER IYER, R.N.


The foregoing instrument was acknowledged before me this _____ day of September, 2003, by CARLA SAUER IYER, R.N., who produced her Florida driver's license as identification, and who did / did not take an oath.

Friday, March 18, 2005

The Double Life...

How very simple life would be, if only there were two of me,
A restless me to drift and roam, a quiet me to stay at home.
A searching one to find his fill, of varied skies and newfound thrill,
While same and homely things are done, by the domestic other one.

And that’s just where the trouble lies; there is a restless me that cries,
For chancy risks and changing scene, for artic blue and tropic green,
For deserts with their mystic spell, for lusty fun and raising hell.

But shackled to that restless me, my other self rebelliously,
Resists the frantic urge to move, it seeks the old familiar groove
That habits make. It finds content—with hearth and home—dear prisonment,
With candlelight and well-loved books, and treasured loot in dusty nooks.

With puttering and garden things, and dreaming while a cricket sings
And all the while the restless one, insists on more exciting fun,
It wants to go with every tide, no matter where…just for the ride.
Like yowling cats the two selves brawl, until I have no peace at all.

One eye turns to the forward track; the other eye looks sadly back.
I’m getting wall-eyed from the strain, (it’s tough to have an idle brain)
But one says “stay” and one says “go,” and one says “yes” and one says “no”
And one self wants a home and wife, and self craves the drifter’s life.

The restless fellow always wins; I wish my folks had made me twins!


~Don Blanding

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

St. Patrick's Day

In celebration of St. Paddy's day I raise my glass of Guinness to the Emerald Isle. Of course on this day of all things Irish we want to listen to some good Celtic music and I have just the band, some very good friends of mine as well as one of the hottest bands in the D.C., Baltimore area, Scythian!

Wednesday, March 9, 2005

Think It Over...

Think it over here.

Tuesday, March 1, 2005

That's The Brand I Use!

Monday, February 28, 2005

An Ode to College

College students are truly a rare breed. Week after week we put ourselves through the gauntlet of flip-cup tournaments, keg stands, ice luges, and power hours only to pass out briefly and wake up at obscene hours of the morning to re-fuel our still-intoxicated bodies with a few more beers all in the name of tailgate. We also lack any legitimate sense of time. We "pre-drink" until eleven. 12:40 classes are "early." We know 2:00 a.m. as "last call" because we have been going to the bars since we were 17 with fake I.D.s. There is a day of the week referred to as "Boozeday." We college kids undoubtedly have a subculture unto ourselves. Some people play basketball, we play beer pong. Some people wait all year for Christmas or Thanksgiving, we wait all year for St. Patty’s Day, New Years Eve, and Superbowl Sunday. Some drink orange juice for breakfast, we throw back a Busch Light because we hear its a good cure for that hangover. We can turn anything into a drinking game. We live in our own world, a world where jungle juice seems like a good idea, being awake at 4 a.m. is normal, “wanna do a body shot” is a sufficient pick-up line, and 21st birthdays are an entity unto themselves. We have become aware that alchohol makes us say, do, and wear things that would, in a sober state, be out of the question. Watching our friend make out with a stranger in front of cheering spectators is raw comedy, kegerators become the greatest invention the world has ever seen, and we "discover" things that seem utterly amazing…like malt liquor...and Beerios... We nickname beers. If we're at the bar and we ask for a "Reeb" or a "Natty," the bartender knows what we're talking about because he's probably in college too. We have drunken alter-egos and we name them. A few shots down the hatch and we suddenly turn into "Rico Suave" the tequila-chugging wonder...We are experts at Kings, never running out of tricky categories or a clever rule. We draw on the faces of passed out friends, we know that empty fifths make great decorations in our apartments (also note: empty kegs can be sweet coffee tables), and we have done a "shotski". We make friends while we are drunk and we assign them an adjective that will forever precede their name in order to distinguish them from the rest of the "friends" we make while drunk (also because we do not know their last names.) "Sloppy Tom," "Chicago Sarah," and "Creepy Steve" will always be near and dear to our hearts. We have no money because we spent it all on beer. This, unfortunately, is also why we drink Povov and Mickeys, and trust us, that takes heart. It grows on us after awhile...or after we've taken too many shots to remember that what we're drinking tastes like gasoline. The lack of money situation is also why if we see someone sipping a Corona, they are a baller, and we will make friends with them. After a long night of bonging beers at a house party, bravely resisting the urge to drunk dial (and/or drunk IM) all of our ex-boyfriends, then going shot-for-shot with a frat boy at the bar, we wake up hugging an empty box of wine in our underwear on our best friend's kitchen floor with a million questions running through our pounding heads. We wake up with random incoherent numbers in our cell phones ("Who the hell is 'grEenshirtb4oy'?"), random pictures on our cameras ("Look, here’s one of so-and-so humping that Corona guy on the dance floor..."), a mere 73 cents left in our wallets ("I didn't know Hold 'em was a drinking game?"), and a desperate desire to lay in bed for the rest of our lives...it is then that we swear off drinking forever...for real....we really mean it this time.... Yet, after shotgunning a brewski or two and kickin back with a 40, we head to the shower, beer in hand, and get ready to begin our evening once again. It takes balls, simply put. We know how to party. We have honed and perfected our art. We are lushes, bar stars, and boozehounds. Why do we act this way you ask? Because we can. Because in 4 short, blurry years we will have to enter the “real world”. So for the time being we will live it up…As long as there are beers to be drank and shots to be taken, we will be there...as long as there are case races to be won and frat houses to pass out in, we will be there...as long as there are tables to be danced on and annoying eighties songs to sing loudly along to, WE WILL BE THERE!...but we're not gonna lie, we probably won't remember it.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

One More Reason To Stand Up For Life

This is one of the craziest stories I've read in a long time, a mother tried to abort her child 3 times and the baby still lived! You've got to read this article! So my question is, why is this story not making national news? One more reason to be ashamed of the "diversified and fair" coverage of the general news media.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

You Found WHAT In Your Drink????

This is definitely not what I'd expect to find in a a bottle of fruit punch!

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Lightyear VoIP

Friday, February 18, 2005

Smash the Tones


I think I've found one of the coolest websites on the net. While browsing my friend Dave's site, Honestdave.com, I came across a link to a blog that told about this awesome new service called Smash the Tones. It's a new service that converts music you have from your computer and sends it directly to your mobile phone. Paying money for ring tones and phone graphics should go the way of the dinosaur. They accept MP3's, WAV's, and a few other file types. They support every (US) phone carrier and it's all free! Sometimes you have to wait a few minutes to have the tone delivered, but for a small donation of $1.25 they move you to the front of the line.
The guy who's site this is, Ben Guild, has a pretty interesting blog as well, lots of cool computer and electronic info and the like. He mentions about how to get a free ipod from gratis Internet in one of his posts, well, I researched the whole dealie, and it's supposed to be completely legit, you actually can get a free ipod! Read the whole article here. If anyone is interested in giving it a try, (and helping me get mine is well) then click here to sign up.