My email positively exploded yesterday so rather then do a bunch of small postings I thought I would just kind of throw everything together and make an Angry Jew Smoothie if you will.
First comes this note from Reader David in Boston
Thanks for sharing and blogging; it’s a really great read.
Bipolar is a very common and easily thrown around disorder because like most emotional issues it exists in some form in all of us. I’m glad you made it through your heart attack fine, and wish you the best for a speedy recovery.
Additionally, it may be worth knowing that some of the antidepressant medications may cause heart rhythm abnormalities.
Because you talk about depression, it might make your post even more valuable if you provided a link to a resource on how to treat depression, so readers have a reference. An article I’ve written on the subject is one idea, (which you can seehere), but there is plenty of excellent material on the web.
Thank you for the compliment. I write about my experiences with Depression out of a need to put things on paper, as it were, and focus on what is causing me problems. I don’t advocate and specific treatment other then to say if you THINK you might be suffering from it to talk to a medical professional and seek treatment. You are not alone, your not the only one having THOSE thoughts and there is help available.
I do encourage anyone interested in more information to read Davids Blog entry on the subject…It’s pretty good stuff.
Another regular reader wrote me about a High School Newspaper that has been pestering her company to fork over some adverting dollars to help support their school.
A quick read on WIkipedia reveals that the high school in question boasts;
The campus consists of three locations: a “Gold campus” building (in a converted former Crone Middle School) for Freshmen (Grade 9) and a “Main campus” building (the original NVHS main building) for Sophomores, Juniors and Seniors (Grades 10-12). The middle school conversion was done for the 2003-2004 academic year. A third building, referred to as the “Frontier campus” allows Seniors to receive dual credit for classes from a local college.
and offers it’s student body amenities such as…
One 8-Lane 25 yard indoor swimming pool, with a side diving well with two boards, and a small 3-Lane 20 yard wading/warm-up pool. The Blue Campus has three gymnasiums: two of these have three full-sized basketball courts each, and one is used for gymnastics. The Gold Campus has 2 Gymnasiums, 1 weight room, and 1 rock climbing wall (given as a Senior class gift in 2003). There is also a fully equipped weight room, a wrestling room, a football field enclosed by a 400 meter recycled rubber running track and a soccer stadium.
Oh, and wait…it’s a Public School!!!
Tell you what kids, since you can’t seem to take the hint, let me spell it out for you.
We have schools here in Oregon that can’t afford to have band instruments let alone music teachers and you expect OUR businesses to support a rich, upper class high school? We here in Oregon tend to support our own.
Tell you what, if you kids are that strapped for cash, turn one of the gyms into a homeless shelter and charge two bucks a night. They can bathe in the wading pool.
Then there was this comment from Morgan, The Dungeon Mistress (Dungeons and Dragons you bunch of Perv’s, but she is a smokin hottie) on my story “No I Don’t Want To Donate For Breast Cancer Awareness God Damn It”;
Finally! Yes! You have vindicated my guilty conscience that despises those programs. If people would just take better fucking care of themselves we’d eliminate / super reduce most of this crap anyway, and these “foundations” might mean well but can’t ever get anywhere anyway since good food, exercise and nutritional therapy can’t be patented for zillions! One day sure, maybe super sci-fi gene therapy and screening, but even that would only tell us who might get what.. *throws hands in the air and wanders away muttering nonsense*
OUTSTANDING!!!!! I am still waiting for the day when we enter the Gattica stage where your entire life will be predetermined by your DNA.
To Kim, The Reader With No Name, I am still working on your flu story. I got some very interesting feedback from some medical professionals during my recent hospital stay and I will be sharing them as part of the story you steered me to.
Finally, my thanks to all of you who wrote me through the website and Facebook with your good wishes and thoughts. I know I owe you all Part III of my adventure, but time has been short. Let me give you the nitty gritty.
No, it was not a heart attack. Most likely culprit was an esophageal spasm. Much to my doctors disgust, for a fat man who smokes, I am almost disgustingly healthy. Heart, liver, lungs…all good. Hell, even my cholesterol test, which I was not looking forward to due to my propensity for beer and cheeseburgers, came back at a very acceptable 178, and yes, I did actually celebrate by swinging by Carl’s Jr on my way home from the doctors office.
Its all about moderation.
Most of the scary stuff has been ruled out and the doc has a plan, so all is good on that front.
I want to thank everyone for their input to the site. You truly make all this worth doing.
Dear Congress, House of Representatives and President of the Unites States of America (Republican OR Democrat),
As a citizen of this wonderful country I thought it only appropriate to send you my thoughts regarding Lobbyists and your propensity to listen and act upon their advice.
How about you listen to THE FUCKING PEOPLE? You know… The people who ELECTED you to serve their best interest. Do you remember them?
How about if there is a real “Hot Button Issue” you let US… The people (as in “WE THE PEOPLE”) decide. Get off your asses and campaign for our votes like you did when you were promising us the world. Is that not Democracy? Is it to much to ask to expect TRUTH from the likes of politicians? That was a rhetorical question by the way.
I once saw an interview with Mitt Romney telling me about why he was going to vote on something. He was repeating over and over about how he “feels” that is what the people who elected him wanted. How about you freaking ASK US WHAT WE WANT? Seriously… I don’t care how you “feel”.
That’s right my friends…Britney Spears is converting to Judaism and The Angry Jew has managed to obtain a portion of the diary she kept while going through her training in all things Jewish.
or
I found this hilarious piece from the New Yorker Magazine by Andy Borowitz that I am going to reprint here without permission, but , with full credit given.
Shalom, Diary:
I think Rabbi Pearlstein is really pissed at me. Today in Jewish class he was going through the Halakha, which I thought was the Jewish word for Hannah Montana but turns out to be like a whole bunch of boring laws about days of the week and pork and shit, and I was like, “Rabbi P., is there any way you could break this down into a bunch of tweets? I’ll read it on my phone on the way to rehearsal.” He got so mad those curls on the sides of his head started shaking. (I don’t know why he won’t let my stylist snip them off. They’re not a good look for him, K.?) On the plus side, he taught me this awesome Jewish trivia fact: You don’t have to call Jewish people “Jewish people.” It turns out they don’t mind being called plain old “Jews.” LOL.
Shalom, Diary:
Here’s how Brit sees it: When a person is converting to Judaism, he or she should totally get points for things they’ve done that already make them part Jewish. Like, let’s say to be a Jewess you need twenty points. I think I have already earned points for the following Jewish thingies:
—Dating a hot Jew: two points. I think dating a Jew makes you partly Jewish, and the hotter the Jew the more points. Dating Jason wins me two points (tho I would get way more if I was dating that über-hot Jew in Maroon 5). Dating someone you met on JDate and basically just settled for gets you no points. (Snap!!!)
—Kissing another Jewess on TV: four points. O.K., maybe this isn’t in the Torah or anything, but it is a great moment in Jewish history, and personally, as a Jew-in-training, I am very proud to have been a part of it: the 2003 MTV Video Music Awards, when I kissed Madonna, who is basically even more Jewish than Rabbi Pearlstein. Madonna is so Jewish I call her Mezuzah. (LMAO, Brit!!!) This is because of all the hot Jewish boyfriends she has had over the aeons, including her latest, Jesus Luz. (Everyone knows Jesus is a Jewish name—look it up.) If you count all of Madonna’s points for dating hot Jews, she would have eighty, which would make her equal to like four Jews, which must be more than there are in all of major-league baseball.
—Being persecuted: eight points. Rabbi Pearlstein goes on and on and on about how persecuted the Jews were in olden days, but, hello, did they ever have to deal with TMZ shoving a camera in their crotch every time they got out of a limo? I don’t think so!!!
If you add my two points for dating a hot Jew to my four points for kissing a Jewess to my eight points for being persecuted, you get (come on, iPhone calculator) . . . fourteen Jew points!!! I should totally be able to get the other six I need by buying a Star of David toe ring.
Shalom, Diary:
Got verklempt last night with Jason when I told him how close I was to joining his tribe and all. Felt kinda guilty that my spiritual journey has been so easy, what with my already being mostly Jewish, but then Jason explained that feeling guilty just makes you Jewisher, so it’s all good.
Dear Diary:
I am so over Rabbi Pearlstein!!! Here’s what went down: I like went to his house to explain my awesome Jewish point system, and I’m like ringing the door-bell 4-EVAH, and then he finally comes to the door and there go his curly hairs again, and he’s like, “Do you have ANY idea what DAY it is???” And I’m like, no, and he’s like, “Jews aren’t supposed to answer the doorbell on Saturdays.” And I’m like, “Hello, isn’t that the Amish?” He seriously needs to check his facts!!! Anyway, I’m donezo with this whole Jewish thing. Saturdays are my day to party, and no one, not even Yahweh or whatever, fucks with that. Note to Brit: Find new religion that Jason and I can both convert to. Maybe Hindu? I’d look amazing with one of those cute jewels in my head.
I want to share with you just a bit of the genius that is Doods, the online comic.
If you have not already checked this out, then what the hell are you waiting for.
***WARNING***
The reading of the story that follows may cause titters, squeals, guffaws, belly laughs and possibly lead to the need for rubber under garments. Take only as directed. Never concentrate and intentionally inhale. Warranty void in all 50 states and Samoa. Your actual laughter may vary.
Enjoy
Randy takes a table by the fireplace, while I collect my vodka tonic from the bar. The fire crackles, and as I approach, Randy lights a cigarette. I sit across from him.
“So, I take it that my execution of your design left something to be desired?” I ask. I am referring the copy of this morning’s student newspaper left in my inbox, covered liberally in red ink so as to give it the appearance of a badly executed eighth grade term paper.
“Well you know,” Randy says, “it could have been better.”
“Yeah, well, where were you at three in the morning to point out my flaws?” I ask taking a sip from my drink.
“Probably doing something fun,” Randy says, “but I like to think that eventually, if I use my red Sharpie enough, you’ll start to see those mistakes all by yourself.”
I roll my eyes and lean forward for another drink. I look up in time to catch Randy’s eyeballs as they wander down to my cleavage.
“I saw that.” I say.
Randy’s eyes dart back up to mine.
“I saw you looking at my tits. You were looking at my tits just now.” I point out.
Randy smiles a boys-will-be-boys smile. “Yeah, I was.”
Attention all Christians, Catholics, Protestants, Bible Thumpers, Sky Pilots and others that make up the faiths of the world that celebrate the birth of Christ.
Lets all band together in a common cause, it has come time for all the people of the world to join together, from all faiths, creeds, religions and, yes, even sexual orientation to band together on one voice and put an end to this madness.
I hope you will all join me in a grass roots campaign to wipe this scourge from the face of our planet.
It has to be done…nay…it will be done.
CHRISTMAS MUST BE CANCELED
I was in the drug store the other day when I saw the first clue that this whole holiday had gotten out of control.
They already had Christmas decorations for sale, not just one or two, but an entire aisle!!!
What the hell, it’s not even Halloween yet and they are already pimpin out St Nick? I mean I realize the economy is still hurting, but is it really necessary to start this insanity even earlier then usual. How can you people allow this to be done to your Lords Birthday?
We have to fight back and, as always, your friendly Angry Jew has a plan.
Now for this to work, we are going to have to keep it under our hats…if the corporations get wind of it, we are sunk.
Here’s what we do.
This year we completely ignore Christmas. Don’t exchange gifts, stay away from the malls, no trees, no egg nog, no mistletoe.
Then for the last two weeks of March, we do all our celebrating.
Families can gather, gifts can be exchanged, we will stop ignoring the homeless and maybe give a few bucks to charity.
Does it really matter when we get all stressed out, hyper aggressive in the parking lot when hunting for a “good” spot at the mall. We can arrange a few flash mobs to trample people to death when a random store opens, we get some one to designate a must have gift item, eat too much, drink to much and generally be really obnoxious to each other.
I mean, that’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it?
Now ladies, before you break out the pitch forks and torches, please allow me to explain.
This fine Sunday afternoon, as I do on many a Sunday afternoon, I stopped by my local Safeway store (Rut Roh, he used the store name, he must be really pissed).
When I walked in I was greeted by a group of tweens selling pink balloons for a buck a pop.
“Would you like to buy a balloon to help raise breast cancer awareness?” they asked in cheerful unison.
Ahh Youth.
No thank you I reply and go about my merry way.
As I roamed the aisles, there was a never ending series of PA announcements asking me to please buy a balloon so this store could be the number one fund raiser in it’s district.
Your going to have to do it without me.
When I get to the checkout, the little computer keypad where I enter my club card asks me if I want round up my purchase for …anyone…anyone…yup…Breast Cancer Awareness.
I tap the NO key and swipe my debit card.
Then, because I apparently had not been harassed enough during my 20 minutes in the store, the checker finishes my order, looks me straight in the eye and says;
OK, Mr Angry Jew, your total comes to $42.87. Would you like to round up to $43.00 for Breast Cancer Awareness?
My Response?
Are you NUTS?
..and it’s not because you schmucks have hounded me to death for 20 minutes when all I came in for was a can of corn and some fucking toilet paper.
The fact of the matter is that I also wont give money for Parkinson’s research, Prostate Cancer, and especially Muscular Dystrophy. I mean come on, how long is Jerry going to be pimping out those poor kids before someone actually admits the sad and ugly truth.
And that truth is simply this,
THERE IS NEVER GOING TO BE A CURE FOR ANY OF THEM.
The reason is simple, there is no money in it.
If you cure a disease, create a vaccine, find a way to completely eradicate it, where is the opportunity for repeat business?
The money is all in treatment of the disease, managing it, ensuring an ongoing quality of life for the poor customer victim, that’s what the drug companies are all about.
Look at HIV/AIDS. Treatable
Hepatitis? Treatable
Most forms of Cancer? Treatable.
A cure for any of them?
Fat Chance.
I do feel for the unfortunates who contract these life ending and crippling diseases. I am more then aware of the incredible hardship and pain they bring to every single person they touch. I wish there was something that could be done, but wishes don’t make the world go around.
Money Does.
Much like the green movement, until someone figures out a way to make a true and ongoing profit off a cure, it is just not going to happen.
So, until then, I’ll just hang onto my cash thank you.
The Doctor who was attending me went on to explain that while the initial tests being negative was good, the levels indicating a heart attack would rise over a period over the next 6 to 8 hours and while my EKG readings were all in the normal range, they needed to monitor me to make sure they could rule out any kind of heart related issue.
So, I was going to stuck in hospital overnight.
Not a big deal in the abstract, but when faced with reality, well, thats a whole other story.
I don’t like hospitals.
The ER is fine, they patch you up and send you on your way. No muss, no fuss.
I have had a few outpatient surgeries over the last couple of years and again, no worries, in, out, your done.
Staying the night in a hospital is whole other kettle of fish.
I instantly flash back to visiting my mom when I was 16 after her stroke or visiting my grandfather, or even most recent, visiting my coworker Mac after his stroke. It takes a whole lot of mental preparation for me to visit someone in the hospital, and here I was with no time to steel myself to the inevitable.
In short order the orderly arrived to transport me to my room in The Cardiac Care Unit.
With Cable Guy Dave and The Happy Pirate in tow, we took the elevator up to the sixth floor. Now, I dont know what this guys problem was, but he kept making comments like “Oh, I am sure you are going to be fine, they will probably just do an angiogram and throw in a few shunts” Thanks asshole, what medical school did you graduate from.
We arrived at my room and was greeted by Tania, my nurse for the evening. My angel was a 20 year veteran of nursing with a quick wit and a friendly but firm manner. She got me settled in and explained what was going to happen as she hooked me up to remote monitor that would transmit my EKG to the nurses station and still leave me free to wander about.
When I quipped that now I could sneak out for a smoke, she fixed me with her “I am the nurse and you will obey” look and sweetly told me that if I left the floor it would set off the alarm, the same alarm that would go off if I flat lined, and that would not make her happy.
Uh, OK, message received and understood.
She told me that a doctor would be in to see me soon and showed me how to work the bed and the TV and explained that I was free to walk around the unit, but to not go past the elevators as it would trigger the alarm. I asked for some Tylenol, the nitro had given me a splitting headache and promised to behave.
The Doctor came in a bit later and explained the game plan.
She too was pretty sure that I had not suffered a heart related event but they had to rule it out 100%.
So the plan was to monitor me overnight, take a few more blood tests and first thing in the morning send me down for a cardiac stress test. She bade me a good night and went about her business.
I asked Cable Guy Dave and The Happy Pirate to do me a favor, to drop by my apartment and pick up my sweats and my laptop and then bring my truck up to the hospital. I felt bad thinking I was asking for a lot, and it turns out, that when you are in the hospital, you don’t get to make decisions. It was explained to me that what was going to happen was that they were going to take my truck to my apartment, pick up my stuff, and then drop it off at the hospital and THEY would pick me up in the morning when I was discharged. Arguing was apparently not permitted nor was appealing to common sense.
So, alone at last, I tried to get comfortable.
I flipped through the channels on the TV, played with the bed, even walked the floors for a a bit in an attempted to settle myself down and process what was going on.
I was in the midst off discussing H1N1(the medical people I talked to about it were pretty much evenly split on whether or not the vaccine was necessary) and health care reform (she was, if this is even possible, more cynical then me that anything good was going to come of it) when Cable Guy Dave arrived with my stuff.
Slipping into my comfy sweats did wonders for me, but not as much as having my laptop. It really has made me wonder whether or not I spend too much time on line. I felt…reconnected?
I left Cable Guy Dave in the room watching HULU on my laptop and went down to the nurses station in search of Tania. It had only been a few hours since she gave me my Tylenol and the headache was back with a vengeance.
She explained that since it had only been two hours she couldn’t give me anymore, but with a twinkle and a grin she says” I’ll go grab you some morphine.”
Haha, very funny, nurse humor, I was surprised she didn’t suggest an herbal enema.
Cable Guy Dave left a bit later, leaving me to deal with the pounding in my temples. I turned down the lights and settled into bed. I tried to watch South Park online, but the site was blocked by the hospitals wifi. I tried to get an old episode of Burns and Allen to stream, but the connection was too slow. In frustration I popped open my disc drive and found my copy of the scifi classic This Island Earth nestled inside.
OK, so now I had entertainment handled.
Tania stepped in the room a few minutes later with a syrnge in one hand and a small vial in the other.
“Whats that” I asked?
“Your morphine” she replied.
WTF
So, they could not give me any more Tylenol but apparently I could have all the narcotics I wanted.
I took a pass, the last time I was given morphine I power heaved for three hours.
Instead I made myself as comfortable as I could in my narrow bed with its too soft pillows and tried to sleep.
