At the Pumpkin Cracktch

Halloween actually is all it’s CRACKED up to be.

This photo really CRACKED me up.

Some of these pumpkins are CRACKED.

It was all I could do to not make a wise CRACK.

No wonder I couldn’t get him to CRACK a smile!

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How about you, dear Jason Show viewers? Care to take a CRACK at a CRACK one liner?

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Editor's note: Is everyone seeing the CRACK on the lady in blue on the left side of the photo? I have a feeling some viewers have been missing the point of this post. :)

Teacher Tales: The Great Bean Skin Debacle

Early in my teaching career I had the unforgettable experience of doing some substitute teaching. One of my first assignments was a sixth grade class, and it was my first time ever with students that old. The morning went smoothly; I was enjoying working with students who could do so much independently. At lunch time, I popped over to El Pollo Loco for one of their 99 cent BRC burritos (pinto beans, rice, and cheese--simple, but affordable and tasty).

The afternoon did not go quite as quite as well as the morning. There were no big issues, just some strange looks and giggles from some of the kids. In fact, I think you could call it sniggering. Yes, some of the kids were sniggering, but I couldn't tell at what. I shrugged it off.

That afternoon when I got home I went to the bathroom. As I was washing my hands, to my intense horror and utter humiliation, I saw in the mirror that one of my eye teeth was COMPLETELY COVERED WITH A BEAN SKIN. What the hell! How did I not feel it? How did I not dislodge it with my tongue or lips?

And most importantly, how did I make it through the entire afternoon without a SINGLE SOUL telling me about it?

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The Show City Non-Emergency Room

Welcome to The Show City Non-Emergency Room, where we treat your emergency like it isn't, because we're busy treating other people's non-emergencies like they are.

Dear Show City Non-Emergency Room,

Last week I took my daughter to the Show City Non-Emergency room because, after three weeks of unanswered questions, a seemingly unconcerned/passive doctor, and a day of extreme, intolerable physical pain, Amelia needed to get some care in an urgent way. You could say it was an emergency.

However, I failed to read the signs that were clearly marked all around the hospital. I guess I just assumed that they said Show City Emergency Room, so I didn't read that carefully. Imagine my chagrin when I left the hospital in extreme frustration and, for the first time, saw the sign clearly, which indeed said: Show City Non-Emergency Room (SCNER). What a difference a prefix can make.

If I had read correctly the first time, both my daughter and I would have been spared the agony and irritation of waiting to be seen while gazing repeatedly around the room at the other patients that we mistakenly assumed were also emergencies. When we did finally get called in by the triage nurse we were able to see the computer screen listing the NER patients and their ailments such as sore throat, or headache, cough, or stubbed toe.

I would also have understood why, when we entered the NER, the intake clerk looked at my daughter's sobs, tear-stained face, and inability to walk with the blankest of all blank expressions in the history of the medical profession. I thought for sure when a medical professional saw someone in extreme pain they would do everything they could to help the situation, possibly even placing them ahead in priority of the woman with a light, infrequent cough. But of course it turned out they were only in the business of treating non-emergencies.

As we sat and waited hour after hour, the amazement and alarm in my mind grew. We saw several people in seemingly good spirits and no apparent discomfort sitting peacefully, watching late-night TV, chuckling softly in peaceful glee. We saw a family with two happy little girls consuming product after product from the vending machine, as though the whole thing were a picnic. Around one a.m. we noticed a couple making out and snuggling against the wall just before being called in for treatment. A couples retreat to the ER? Then there were the people absentmindedly snacking on Cheetos at 1:30. That really didn't seem like an emergency.

Around 2:00 am we noticed three female college students who were snuggling together, laughing, reading the bible aloud to each other, and singing softly with each other This just about pushed me over the edge. WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE IN THE EMERGENCY ROOM?

It was a few minutes after that that Amelia turned to me and said, "Dad, let's just go home. This is doing no good. At least at home I can try to sleep before we go to the CT scan appointment in the morning."

And after four hours, out we walked. Fortunately, Amelia's pain had subsided a bit for the time being.

Of course, hindsight is 20/20. I should have made a big fuss, I have now learned that. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, I now see. But that became a moot point once I correctly read the sign; had I squeaked I probably would have been given a response like, "Oh, I'm sorry sir. This is the NON-emergency room. You'll need to go to another hospital if you have an EMERGENCY."

So why then, am I writing this letter? Just to make a teeny weeny suggestion. How about having the intake nurse clarify that your facility is a NON-Emergency room, right up front? Maybe highlighting that fact that is so deeply buried in the pages of paperwork would help as well, asking responsible parties to initial, showing that it is not place to go if your case is urgent. Then patients would better be able to find a facility that treats EMERGENCIES.

Thanks for nuthin,

Jason Show

Jason Show disclaimer: The writers of this episode understand that Jason is not a medical professional, nor could he possibly understand the inner-workings of an emergency room. This letter was written in frustration from the point of view of a dissatisfied hospital patron whose daughter was in extreme pain during the time that treatment was sought. The Jason Show would also like to encourage individuals who have emergencies to just call an ambulance, which would ensure prompt ER treatment.

Stream of Consciousness Blogging: Amelia Update and a Pink Martini Limo Ride to Korea Town

I'm thrilled to report that Amelia came home from the hospital Wednesday afternoon. She was thrilled to come home. The pain has been minimal and certainly controllable. Yesterday she was running a slight fever which had us concerned but it has since gone away. Good thing, too, because she was NOT thrilled at the thought of going back to the hospital.

I'll tell you one thing: I will never step foot back into that particular emergency room again! It made me so angry sitting there in the ER that night while she was suffering so badly, and nobody did a damn thing about it. But don't worry, I'm still preparing a whopper of a post about that night.

Poor Amelia is bummed though because she has been dropped from her college classes since she has missed FOUR WEEKS of school. Fortunately, the high school counselor and teachers have been extremely helpful and accommodating, so there are no problems there. We are requesting that she be given a home study teacher for a couple of weeks until she gets her strength back and builds up her immune system again. Not to mention allowing that gaping hole in her back to heal!

In the meanwhile, life has gone on. Tonight I'm getting picked up by a limo full of lovely ladies drinking pink lemonade martinis! In celebration of our friend, Stephanie's, 40th birthday we will cruise down the Los Angeles freeways to what sounds like an incredible Karaoke place in Korea Town. This place allegedly has several different private rooms with all kinds of modern karaoke equipment. What could be more fun than that? I love Karaoke, but all of the people who take it really super seriously make me nervous. And don't worry, I won't drink too much. Thanks, you're the third person today who has told me to take it easy. In my twelve year drinking career, I've only drunk to the point of vomiting twice (boy were they humdingers) but only twice. Have I shared those stories with you yet here? No, I believe I have not. (Note to self: Blog about the time I yacked for an hour in the Citiwalk parking lot in Giancarlo's new car while Pumpkin Delight rubbed my back and held my hair back for me and told me how proud she was of me. Also blog about the time I yacked in my in-laws' car without even opening the door and it all went down in the cracks in the seat and it took me months to get the smell out, and how the only thing that worked, ironically, was having my father-in-law come back from Italy and smoke in it.)

And now, a question. What is the longest you and your spouse (if you have one) have gone without having, erhm, secktual relationz? Why am I asking? Oh, no reason, of course, nothing to do with me whatsoever.

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The Upside!

Having Claire here to be with Amelia means we get Daniel too!

Ordeal

Sore throat. Pain. Headache. Fever. Days. Urgent Care. Strep? Amoxicillin. Days. Worthless. Swollen Lymph nodes. Misdiagnosis. Doctor. Mono? Steroids. Ibuprofen. Vicodin. Test results. Negative. Staph. Staph? Lymph nodes. Swollen. Fever. Too high! Scary. New antibiotics. Clarithromycin. Heavy duty. Wait. Days. Nothing. Pain. Fever. Finish antibiotics. Worse. Doctor? Doctor? Help. Nothing. Listen! Wait. Doctor! HMO. Doctor! Fax. Call. Fax. Call. False negative? Test? Not mono. Staph? Where? What? Doctor? Doctor!!! Make noise. Tail bone. Hurts. More. Calls. Complaints. Days.

Second opinion. New doctor. Listening. Thinking. Examining. Asking. Listening. Reading. Considering. Explaining. Wondering. Cancer? Auto immune?Ordering. Blood cultures. Urine cultures. CAT scan. STAT. STAT!

Home. Wait. Pain. More pain. Excruciating. Screaming. Crying. Writhing. 10 pm. ER. Crowded. Unconcerned. Not urgent. WAIT. FOUR HOURS! Frustration. Tired. Give up. Home. Sleepless. Worried. Scared. PAIN.

Morning. CT scan. Home. Two Vicodin. One hour. Test results! Not cancer. Exhale. Exhale again. Not auto immune. Cyst. Infection. Hospital. Now.

Admitting. Fast. Hospital room. Clean. Private. Nurses. Kind. Doting. Doctors. Concerned. Prompt. Explanations. Communication. Polinaidal cyst. Vancomycin. IV. Surgery. Scheduled. PAIN. Intense. Unbearable. Medication. Vicondin. Insufficient. Morphine. Useless. Toradal. Relief. Better. Better. PAIN! TOO EARLY! MORE DRUGS! Night time. Little sleep. MORE PAIN! WORSE! HURRY! Dilautid. Narcotic. Better? Reaction. Reaction. Reaction. Running. Nurses. Machines. Monitors. Oxygen. EKG. Scared. Too much Dilautid. Resolved. Less pain. Relaxation. One hour. PAIN! Crying. Screaming. Shaking. Sweating. Calling. Waiting. Calling. Pacing. Desperate. Toradal. Toradal. Better. Better. Surgery. Later. Sleep. PAIN! Too early. EXCRUCIATING. Dialautid. Less. Constant. Relief. Waiting. Surgery. Three pm. Finally. Pre-op. Panic. Anxiety. Fear. Catherter. Awful. Anxiety. Fear. Hyperventilate. Oxygen. Drugs. Relax. Hallway. Operating room.

Over. Relief. Better. Results. Fist sized. Infection in tissue. MRSA. Superbug. Drug resistant. Relief. Relief. Relief.

EXHAUSTION.

Amelia. Smiling today. Relaxed. Walking. Talking. Texting. Visiting.

Experience? Frustrating. Frightening. Horrifying. Maddening.

Second opinions? Essential. Life saving.

Modern medicine. Grateful. Insurance. Thankful.

Relief

After 3 emotionally grueling days for us and physically agonizing, painful days for Amelia, the worst is over. She had surgery yesterday to remove a cyst that had become infected with drug resistant bacteria, and is resting comfortably.

I will post more soon. Thanks to all of you for your many kind and concerned emails and comments.

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No Diagnosis

Four weeks ago Amelia came down with something that seemed like it was going to be the flu or a cold. After five days she was not getting better, so I took her to Urgent Care in the evening. It was packed. After waiting for an hour and a half, we were finally seen by a doctor who spent no more than two minutes with us. He looked in her ears, nose, throat, and eyes and proclaimed, "It looks like it might be strep. I'll send in a prescription." That was it. He took no culture, he ordered no culture.

Amelia did not get better. In fact, she got worse. Her fever persisted, and her lymph nodes became very swollen, and she was miserable. So we made an appointment with her primary care pediatrician. He examined her and came to the deduction that she had mono. He ordered a blood test to verify his preliminary diagnosis and prescribed steroids, 800 mg of Ibuprofen, and Vicodin.

Within an hour or two of her appointment, Amelia's fever shot up, she became somewhat delirious, and her breathing became labored. I took her temperature and she was at 104.4. YIKES! I immediately pulled her blankets off of her and began drawing a cool bath. She allowed me to help her into the tub (underwear intact) and I slowly poured cool water over her body while she sobbed and shivered and sobbed some more. After a couple of minutes she calmed down and her breathing returned to normal. After getting her out of the tub, I got her back into bed and took her temperature again. 101. Better. A few minutes after that her medicine finally kicked in and she began laughing out loud.

We prepared for the weeks ahead of us battling mono. I communicated with her school counselor, and she stayed in bed.

A couple of days later the blood test came back negative for mono. Now what? She was still not feeling better, if anything she was getting even worse. This time her doctor surmised that it might be some sort of staph infection that made itself comfortable in her lymph nodes. He prescribed a humdinger antibiotic in hopes that it would curb the issue. This did not happen. Her fever persisted, even after being on the antibiotics for five days. Her body began to hurt all over, including her tailbone.

So we took her to the doctor again. This third visit revealed nothing, though he sent her to the lab for another blood test to see if the mono test was a false negative. Now we began to get really nervous. Misdiagnosis after misdiagnosis, no real answers, symptoms masked by weeks of painkillers, and increased pain in her tailbone. Oh, and the vomiting, which is likely due to her stomach being tortured by all the different medications.

It was high time to make some noise. We sent questions by fax. We have left message after message, asking question after question, but getting very few real results. The doctor scribbled some perfunctory notes on my fax but skirted most of the questions, although he did decide to order blood and urine cultures.

Today I stayed home from work to pester my HMO. I have left a message with the patient liaison, and we now have an appointment to get her in to see another doctor for a second opinion. I have also sent faxes asking further questions and stating her newest symptoms.

This needs to be resolved, and SOON! My reader friends out there in the medical profession, any ideas or suggestions?

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Television Tapings

My friend, Pumpkin Delight, invited me to go to a broadcast/recording of Real Time With Bill Maher last night. Since I don't have HBO I hadn't yet seen a single episode, but I remember him from Politically Incorrect a few years back and that he is very intelligent and very funny and very liberal. Just my kind of guy! It turns out I enjoyed the show even more than I ever thought I would. My favorite part was Sarah Silverman's monologue about ending world hunger by selling the Vatican.

Hysterical and brilliant!

I also felt a bit of nostalgia there because the producers told us that particular studio was previously used for The Carol Burnett Show, one of my all time favorite shows, especially growing up.

I used to watch it religiously, every single day once it went into syndication.

Living close to Hollywood has afforded me the opportunity to go to other television tapings as well. I've gone to Empty Nest, Grace Under Fire, Cybil, Veronica's Closet, and The Tonight Show. It is all very interesting, but if it isn't a live show, the whole process can take several hours. I took my little brother and a few of his friends to Veronica's Closet, expecting to spend a couple of hours.

The taping started at 4:00 and at 9:30 it was still dragging on. Audience members began to complain of hunger, so they ordered pizza for everyone, but not enough, because everyone got one tiny piece each. Finally at 10:30 we got up and walked out against the wishes of the producers and crew.

Nevertheless, if you're from out of state and you find show business interesting, I would highly recommend going to the taping or broadcast of some sort of television show! I would love to go see The New Adventures of Old Christine or 30 Rock.

Anyone?

Teacher Tales: Cancer Strikes Again

Maria, the mother of one of my former students, was just diagnosed with terminal stage 5 breast cancer. She is 44 years old and has thirteen year old and a ten year old. Maria was very rarely ever sick. Not a cold, not the flu. She was feeling great. She was careful about what she ate and she exercised. She didn't smoke or drink. Then one day last month she discovered a lump in her breast. She immediately went to the doctor, who examined her and promptly sent her to an oncologist. He did a biopsy and found the lump to be malignant. He further discovered four other lumps and cancer in her lymph nodes. Without missing a beat, he started her on a rigorous chemotherapy regimen, scheduled surgery, and ordered radiation. Even so, the prognosis is not good. Much like that of my mother.

Last month I saw her after school one day and she looked like her usual vibrant self. Today I visited her at home and she looked like a cancer patient. The side effects of chemotherapy have been especially hard on her; she had to be hospitalized for a few days due to the intense nausea and severe pain.

Maria is the only regular parent volunteer I have had at my current school. She constantly asked me if there was anything she could do to help, if there was anything she could buy for the class, and she showered me with gifts. Both she and her husband came to my room at the end of that school year in tears, expressing how grateful they were to me for helping their son. And since then, they have periodically reminded me of their gratitude.

Breast cancer has attacked yet another with its cruel, relentless invasion. Again I am wary of treatment. I know there are those who beat breast cancer, but it seems they usually do not.

As I know you're aware, this is breast cancer awareness month. Everywhere you turn people are doing their part to find a cure, whether it be donating a dollar at the grocery store check out or walking sixty miles.

My dear friend, Sue, has chosen to raise $2,300.00 and walk sixty miles in the Susan G. Komen For the Cure foundation. She and her team have been working very intensely to prepare for the upcoming Breast Cancer 3-Day in San Diego. They've had all kinds of fundraisers, and they are almost there. Sue has $1,900.00, and the walk in a bit more than a month away.

I know you've all been asked to give and give and give. But I'm asking you again, for people like my friend Maria and her two young children, will you please donate just a little bit more? Please? I will.

Click here to donate.

Agnostic Blessings, Episode Thirteen

Blessing # 333

Ravioli

I never met a ravioli I didn't like. Something about the soft, thin shell of pasta with a tasty prize inside covered with a succulent sauce satisfies me deep down. Cheese, beef, chicken, pesto, pumpkin, squash...it's all good!

I even love Chef Boy R Dee ravioli straight out of the can.

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My Step-Mother’s Nipple Clamps

This painting, which belongs to my step-mother, hangs in their living room. Unfortunately I was never able to ask her about it…where it came from, why she liked it, and why it is hanging in her living room. Her Alzheimer’s is far too advanced for that. My dad doesn’t really seem to know either. But there it hangs, above the television and the Book of Mormon.

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Insights?

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Do you suppose this was a test of strength and endurance for braves? A hunting ritual? Native American S & M?

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