A sick woman with a sick agenda.

 The Liberal Government of the Province of Ontario
believe that the sexual  education of the children of this  province should be determined by them regardless of the opinion of parents.  Fortunately, the Canadian Family Alliance (CFA) had the guts to initiate a program to stop the radical sex education of children.  For more information about this outrageous sex ed program promoted and pushed through by the amoral disturbed premier of this province you should go to www.stopradicalsexed.ca to gain some insight into the devious attempt to influence how children think about sex and sexual  issues.  There is obviously an progressive attempt to engineer children into sharing Ms Wynne's views.
   Children as young as six are having 'genitalia' instruction and by eight are being taught 'Gender Identity Theory'. Whether you are a boy or a girl is unrelated to your physical anatomy.  Being a boy or a girl is just an "imagined social construct", you can choose what you want to be.  After that masturbation education and by age of twelve, anal intercourse, oral sex and sexual pleasure are dealt with.  At the advanced age of  thirteen, children are encouraged to make a personal sexual plan.
   By the way, the man under whose direction this curriculum was written, the former Deputy Education Minister Benjamin Levin is behind bars for - yes, you guessed correctly - CHILD PORNOGRAPHY AND PEDOPHILIA -RELATED CRIMES.
   Ms Wynne and her satraps have already destroyed the economy of this once economic engine of Canada,
are we now going to sit by while she destroys our youth?

MY Hi-Tech Holiday

🎅😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂Holidays aren't what they used to be.. When I was a boy growing up in Dublin, on rare occasions our family got to 'go on holiday'. That meant we would go to a seaside resort named Bray that we frequently visited on day trips. Bray was precisely thirteen miles from Dublin and we usually went there by steam locomotive. There were twelve station stops between Dublin and Bray, as the puffing, streaming, whistling engine started and stopped and as far as we were concerned we could have been traversing the planet. My excitement at going there for about one week far exceeded the blase reaction of many of the kids I know nowadays who have circumnavigated the world. Strangely enough, I think we also learned more about life and human interaction roaming around Bray, than our modern counterparts learn from roaming around the world with their well trained organizers showing them only what they want them to see and brainwashing them as they see fit, when they have time to look up from the smart phone.  I say that because we were part of what was going on in Bray in a way today's kidditourists could never be. But that's another story for another day. What I want to dwell on today is the changed nature of what we used to call a holiday. (No-one ever called it a vacation in those days.). The erstwhile concept of a holiday was to get away from it all for a well earned break from all stresses and bustle of everyday life. To leave work, phone calls and all the pretty irritations behind. No one expected to hear from you apart from perhaps a postcard and assumed was that all was well, unless they heard otherwise. One 📧📧📧📧📧📧📧📧📧ad ones escape for a couple of weeks and came back refteshed and ready to take over running the world for another year. Alas, things have greatly changed. The connected world and all of its labour saving devices demands that everyone be connected one hundred percent percent of the time. Thus has the modern labour saving world generated a whole series of new labour categories in order to perpetuate itself. Usually, we drive down to South Carolina but since we were going quite a bit  decided to fly. Although I consider myself moderately efficient in dealing with everyday technology, I certainly am not a sophisticated user once I get beyond the limited hardware and software I am accustomed to use. Not having embarked on an international flight for some time, it was very evident things had greatly changed. First off, as I am  the least sophisticated travelers among that you preprint your boarding pass. That seemed simple enough and when it didn't happen after several tries, I finally realized it was twenty five hours before my flight and the service is only available within twenty four hours of take off. I came back to my computer an hour later and completed the mission without any further problem. The London, Ontario to Toronto flight went smoothly enough though on arrival, the distance to departure gate, schlepping everything but the checked case seemed endless and the convenience of a wheeling cart was prohibited by the fact that you can't take them on the moving side walks. . Eventually we do get to the security clearance lineup and after my beautiful bride made it clear to the security officer that she had no intention of taking her shoes off as directed because she was over eighty and on her last trip she was informed that exonerated her, we got through. Her day was made by the security guy yelling to his colleague, "Hey. This lady is over eighty. Sure doesn't look it." . Meanwhile, I had submissively removed my shoes and was putting them back on. Next we shuffled our way to passport control where a series of complicated monitors challanged us to insert our passports, right way up and to answer a multiple choice battery of questions. Unfortunately, I hit one of the wrong buttons,, which resulted in a security officer racing over and starting the whole process from scratch. The whole process resulted in the machine spitting out a slip of paper with my passport number and a copy of my passport photo. My wife went through the process a little more easily. We shuffled on with the crowd a few feet more and hand over the printouts and our passports to the custom and emigration officer, who kept the printout. I still haven't figured out why I can get in my car and drive across the border by just flashing my passport and having a brief word with the customs and immigration officer usually without even getting out of my car. The three and a quarter hour flight was pleasant enough apart from the fact that even the customary pack of peanuts or crackers are no longer dispensed with the soft drink. Let me take just a minute to remind you what it used to be like. When I used to fly frequently between Regina and Toronto, usually coach class, as economy was called in those days. The was no limitation on the number of pieces of luggage one could check, or if there was neither I nor anyone I knew ever reached it. As soon as the plane was in the air, the stewardess wheeled the beverage cart down the aisle dispensing complimentary liquor or soft drinks and a packet of almonds or cashews to the travelers. By the time that was consumed, the stewardess would traverse the cabin with the meal menu. There was always a choice: steak, chicken or fish. Mind you, if you were too far back the steak was usually gone ! In addition, there was complimentary Red or white wine to accompany your choice. Anyway;, after an uneventful flight and arrival in Fort Myers, we picked up our car, ("pick up any car in your category, sir, and just drive out!"). It was an easy drive to Naples and we got in at about 10th.30pm, with only a little difficulty in finding our actual condo. After schlepping our luggage up to our third floor condo, (it took us several days to find that there is an elevator), we were really pleased with the digs. Then we decided to have a nice cup of tea and something to eat. No water from any of the faucets. We we hungry and thirsty and getting just a tiny bit irritable. So we piled back into the car and began our food odessey. now apart from a few downtown nightspot, Naples tools up the sidewalks at about nine-thirty. Everywhere locally was closing up and we were just preparing to give up, when we spotted Pelican Larry's. We parked and breezed in. It was a noisy, lively place and I guess we were about thirty five years older than the oldest there. We bellied up to the bar and sat next to a young fellow who seemed to be enjoying his supper and a bottle of beer. He greeted us cordially. "So how is your hamburger?" I inquired. "Very good," said he, with a Southern accent. We ordered our hamburger and a pint of beer, that I sorely needed by that time. We chatted with our neighbor and the barman. He was from Kentucky and moved to Naples to escape from the cold. We regaled him with stories of Canadian winters and he was suitably impressed by our stories of thirty below cold snaps. Our hamburgers were good and I was feeling adequately refreshed after my hamburger and beer. We decided to take a bathroom break since we had no running water. By now it was about one thirty am and as we bid farewell to our new friend he told me how cool we were and how the guys and gals at the bar were surprised because they didn't often see folks of our age, but we fit right in and he hoped we would come again. As soon as we got back to the condo we tried the water again with the same results. "We will have to phone a plumber first thing in the morning," I said as we settled down to sleep, still grumbling about not being able to flush the toilet etc. We bought some water in the pub so at least we weren't going to die of dehydration. I feel into a deep sleep and woke up after about an hour having been stroke by a bolt of common sense. "what," I asked myself, "was the last thing I did before taking off on this vacation?" If you guessed turn off the water at the mains, you were right. So I prowled around until I found main water feed and three was the tap waiting to be turned back to the on position. The reassuring sound of the rush of water and the filing of the toilet tanks were comforting enough to let me go back to sleep. We awoke to all the conveniences of the modern home and I rushed off an email to the condo owner who I had texted the previous night to assure him that all was well.📧 After breakfast I decided to call the family to let them know we had settled in nicely. I picked up my cell phone. No connection to any provider. Fortunately the condo has a wifi router so I managed to contact David who put me through all the paces to no avail. No land line in the condo. My provider, previously called WIND has been bought out by Shaw communications. Before I had time to contact them they sent an email saying they would be hooked up with AT&T the next day. Irene's old cheapo phone was unsuitable so they Fedexed is a loaner which arrived two days later. The three Samsung Smart TVs turned out to be another hi-tech challenge. Fortunately Century Links maintains a 24/7contractual arrangement, so if they can't talk you through the problems they'll send a technician out. Fortunately, after about an hour talk through we got everything functioning satisfactorily, although I'm still learning. The washing  machine has over 30 settings! Soon we will be starting the home trip. I hope it's simpler!

Euthanasia, Put 'em down and save money!

   Canadians now have the right to demand euthanasia.  Theoretically, at least, we should all be delighted.  Canada continues to struggle to support what is at best, a second rate health care system.  Mainly, the bureaucrats in charge tell us, because we can't afford anything better.  They never mention the large sums drained out of the system to support the health care elites, who contribute little to  health care, but who have to protect their image by earning at least as much as their counterparts in  the business world.  That is understandable, because they consider medicine to be a business and nothing more.  As long as they can sell their product and retain their job, they consider themselves successful.  But health care is not like any other job but unfortunately most of the  folks don't realize that until they find  themselves in  a situation in which they require urgent health care.  The minor  cases slip by, usually with minor inconvenience.  The critical  care issues are dealt with effectively because the skilled physicians and nurses and others are available to deal with acute life threatening issues.  The optics of not being able to do  that would be too demoralizing to a developed country like Canada, which once had a health care system that the world envied.  There is an increasing awareness both at home and abroad that the Canadian system is crumbling, enough for some of  the administridiots and their political masters to realize that they do need to do something to protect their image and career.  More money has to be freed up to improve the image of the health care system and in Ontario, due to the incredible mismanagement of the province there is no government money available and the hubris of the elites requires at least some appearance of action.  So, what could  be better than to recover and redirect the very considerable resources being 'wasted' on the incurably ill and dying. Surely it would be much more effective to just put them out of their misery and suffering by terminating them?  The only acceptable alternative would be to provide some skilled, professional palliative terminal care, because that can very often make make the difference between comfortable dying and unacceptable suffering.  But, to do that requires skilled caregivers and considerable resources, so why not just provide a painless termination.  End of life care in Canada is not good and would  require investment of resources and money to improve it.  Estimated as saving between $34,000,000 and $138,000,000, encouraging the old folks to 'euthanase' could be a big money saver for the health care system and those savings could be directed at a more activist voting group.  I'll leave where it might be directed to your imagination.  Unfortunately, I have a pretty good  idea where it might go.
   A very high proportion of Canadians die in hospital.  Inappropriate heroic attempts or resusitative measures in the elderly or even the terminally ill are the norm in this litiginous society, only to keep the patient alive for a repeat performance or perhaps several repeat performances before finally expiring.
  In another gentler, more caring era, elderly family opted to die at home.  The family doctor was truly a family doctor and made house calls as often as necessary and the district nurse visited as often as necessary to help with any medical necessities. 

Concierge Medicine, can it improve health care?

   The whole health care system is so sick and inefficient that it is difficult to imagine how it can be repaired without first drastically reducing the multiple layers of parasitic bureaucrats and health care administridiots who enjoy generous salaries and benefits, without making any contribution to health care. They will only attempt to reproduce their own kind and to increase and perpetuate their power.
   There will be no single universal solution to this massive and complex problem.  It will take a multifaceted approach to make any significant inroads in averting the disaster that we are racing toward.  Concierge Medicine may be one small to medium sized step in the right direction.
    What on earth is that you may ask?   Its other name is retainer medicine. It is a relationship between a patient and a primary care physician in which the patient pays an annual fee or retainer.  In exchange for  the retainer, doctors provide enhanced care and that includes a commitment to limit patient load, so that each patient will have adequate allocated time and ludicrous concepts like 'only one complaint per visit' will not be possible.  Guaranteed availability is an important aspect of concierge medicine and although details vary from group to group, most strive for same day or at least next day appointment and consistency of coverage on a twenty four hour basis, three hundred and sixty five days a year.   If you, the customer are buying it, you are entitled to know exactly what you are paying for.  The government takes your money and expects you to be grateful for what you get.  The unmitigated gall and brazen effrontery of your government is that they dictate what you can (or rather can't) buy with your own money.  They certainly don't tell you that you cannot buy high priced organic foods because you think it is better for your health, because all can't afford it or that you can't buy a better health food supplement than many can't afford and if they did, the LWLs  (Left Wing Loonies) would be screaming.
    Have you ever tried to get hold of your doctor for something that a short telephone call or even an email might resolve?   In my last years in practice I couldn't even get my own nurse on the line, my call was automatically flipped over to her answering machine.  I used to joke that the telephone had become an instrument for the avoidance of conversation with a live person.  That's not the way it used to be.  Most nights I used to bring home a stack of phone calls to make after dinner.  Physicians don't do that anymore.  Most Concierge physician groups are offering to do that and have someone available  around the clock for phone or  email consultation.  Can you imagine how many emergency room visits that saves and because emergency room visits are disproportionately expensive, how much money that it would save the public health care system?  Can you imagine the convenience of being able to pick up the phone to discuss whether you need to be seen right then or whether you could just drop by the office in the morning and know you could be seen without waiting three hours?  But government and bureaucrats don't want you, the public to know how easily many of the three hour waits in crowded unhealthy emergency rooms and subsequent two week waits to see your doctor could be avoided.  They just want you to think you are getting excellent health care and be grateful, when we rank eleventh out of twelve in developed countries. 
    So do we have any concierge clinics available in Canada.  You bet we have, but they keep a very low profile, because once they come to the notice of the College of Physicians they are accused of contravening the Canada Health Act and are put under notice that unless they stop they will be put under suspension.  The government, the Colleges (licensing bodies) the OMA hope to keep the dismal state of the health care system under cover for as long as possible and most of the folks don't care about it until they themselves or their families are impacted by it. 
   The bottom line is that the government of Canada, the Health care bureaucrats and all of the sycophantic organizations that help support them want things to stay exactly as they are.
    As one character in  Mel  Brooks hilarious movie 'Blazing Saddles' said, "gentlemen, we have to protect our phony-baloney jobs".  
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Swimming your way to Health and Happiness!

Swimming your way to health and happiness!

   I started swimming seriously after my quintuple bypass in 2004.  Various physicians and others suggested joining a cardiac exercise program at the hospital  and I did go once, but all those old puffing elderly folks who looked as though they were working so hard were so depressing that I decided not to go again.  If I was going to exercise on any sort of regular basis it was going to have be fun, not work.   I had always liked swimming and I was a fairly good swimmer in my time.  My first foray was almost the last.  I had decided to go to the university pool but when I got on campus I drove around for fifteen minutes and still hadn't found a place to park at any cost.  Students, I decided, must be much richer now than when I was a student.  I could always find a spot in those days, to park my bike.  I then decided if this was the way it was going to be, university was not for me!   I swung impatiently out of the gilded gates of academe and headed for the Aquatic Centre, an impressive Olympic dimensioned pool that had been built for some major event.  I had often driven by that interesting building but never actually had a look inside.   I drove straight there and was overjoyed to see a large parking lot with lots of space.  I parked my car, registered for a nominal fee and twelve years later I'm still going on a regular basis.  My objective was to swim three times a week and as the song goes "with a little help from my friends", I have been for the most part, successful.  Now everyone knows that even the best intentioned people tend to fall off the exercise wagon when left to themselves.  So I knew that I would have to devise a means to overcome the inevitable boredom of lane swimming for an hour three times a week.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the swimming itself. It is excellent exercise, in that one can fine tune the activities to one's individual  capabilities.  Unlike those activities that pound and stress one's knees, hips and lumbar spine, one can get as much exercise as one wants or can tolerate, without the side effects of those other activities. Still, it can get a little repetitious and even boring, although one certainly has an opportunity to reflect on everything from the meaning of life to the content of the next blog.

   I had only been attending for a short while, when I noticed that in a separate deep water diving pool set apart from the swimming lanes, there was music and activity directed by an enthusiastic and athletic young woman, demonstrating a series of exercises.  I had been lane swimming and was getting a bit bored, so I got out of the main pool and joined the twenty five or so women and two men in the exercise class.  This was quite good fun, following the graduated exercise instructions, watching the graceful young woman on the pool apron demonstrating the ballet- like moves and encouraging us old folks to build up a  head of steam.  They were not all old folks in the pool but the mean age would have been closer to my age than to the youngest participant's.   The other advantage to this particular activity is that in  the course of the exercising, one is in close enough proximity to people to talk to  them.   

   After a while I started to get to know a few interesting people.  Otto, an elderly widower, well in his eighties, would finish off his exercises by climbing a sheer 'climbing wall', probably twenty feet high.  It had foot and hand grips and was obviously there for the kids to climb and then push themselves away and drop into the pool.  Otto would precariously climb this and then drop into  the pool.  The whole thing looked so dangerous that the life guard told him not to do it.  He politely listened to the advice, nodding his  head sagely in agreement and then didn't do  it again until  the next day and the next and the next.  Eventually they closed it down when he was in  the vicinity.   He was disappointed but continued swimming.  'The swimming" he said, "is good for my body, but even more important for my mind."  I've thought about that a bit and I agree with him.

  One of my closest friend now is an ex cop, who is even more talkative than me.  We started having a coffee at the Tim Horton's just across from the pool, where we continue regale each other with stories from our respective professions.  We call our dialogues, 'The Doc and the Cop' stories. That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.   
   Early on, I ran into a lady who had been the chief radiology technician in a hospital in  Ontario.  We found a lot to talk about while in the exercise group.  It turned out that her son is a local  Ear, Nose and Throat  specialist to whom I referred patients when I was in practice.  It is a small world.  I ran into this lady in a store some while ago.  Initially she didn't recognize me, but when she did, her rather loud exclamation was, "Oh, I didn't recognize you with your clothes on!!"  A few nearby shoppers pretended not to hear!
   These are but a few of the folks I have met at the pool.  I arrange to  meet with  the cop on a regular basis, so on those mornings I might  have stayed in bed or lazed around the house because it looked dreary, I can't, because I have an appointment and I always keep  my appointments, and on time!
You will get an occasional follow up of life in the pool! 

A lesson in child education - Part 2.

   It is just about a year since wrote about the two little girls I am systematically brainwashing in the most creative way possible.  The  coup de grace was when so called educators decided that cursive writing required too much precision and effort  and therefore should be dropped from the school curriculum. In the kakocracy in which we dwell, music and art and so- called culture has become aggressive, atonal, careless and chaotic, one has to search hard for some redeeming activities that can  re-introduce some appreciation for precision, order and beauty to our declining civilization.  When Omar Khayyam wrote, "The moving finger writes and then moves on ", he was not just stating a mechanical fact.  He was explaining that the brain is directly wired to the fingers and that the thoughts flow on to the paper or parchment or papyrus.  Any monkey can pound on a keyboard, but it takes a human to write, although ofttimes they may not make any more sense than the monkey does.   However, that's not the point of today's little story.  The point is that cursive writing is an exercise that develops manual dexterity, precision and artistic skills at the same time as it is developing the brain.  I freely confess that none of these ideas are evidence based, but I am free to opine and always right!
    My grand-nieces and their parents, who live in another  city, a long days drive away, usually visit us at this time of the year for the past three or four years.  I believe it was when I was showing my pen collection to their parents, the girls, about eight or nine at the time showed considerable  interest.  When they came to visit the following year, the first thing they wanted to do was to go down  to  the 'Pen Dungeon' to see all the pens I have in captivity.  (Most of them are quite tame, though a few of them show signs of restlessness and rebellion and look quite threatening.  I try make sure that there are 'safe spaces' in my pen boxes and that no one pulls off a screw cap or screws a pull cap).  So, I decided the time had come to continue the 'braining washing', which is another word for education.
   See my blog  "A Lesson In Child  Education" for the early session.
   As soon as they got here after a long drive, they wanted to go 'down to dungeon' .  They confided in me, a little apprehensively, that they didn't have time  to practice as much as they would have liked to and they hoped they would pass the test.   This is the certificate they got last year. 

     They are anxious to get the certificate of  'Advanced Achievement'  this year or perhaps even an 'Award of Merit'.
      They had certainly improved significantly.  The seriousness of the situation was somewhat impeded by two factors:
      1.  I have a slot machine in the work area adjoining the dungeon that they had already discovered during a previous visit.  The machine pays out, but is not adjusted to require insertion of a coin to work.  So the girls got a negative lesson, in that they now think you can gamble with only winnings and no losses.  I tried to explain this to them, but they refused to take it seriously until there were no coins left in the machine to pay out when they got a winning combination.  They now know what it is like to 'break the bank' but have no idea what it means to go bankrupt.  I don't think it registered when I tried to explain that one!  However, they have very intelligent parents and I am sure they will be successful where I have failed.
      2.    'Uncle'  Rick McDonald, of my Pen Club, kindly gave me some invisible ink pens, visible only in ultra violet light.  They were absolutely fascinated and after writing on various paper samples, soon discovered they could write on the arms and hands etc all invisibly.  Then, when my son David, always their favourite (they never hesitate to drop the 'old man' when Dave is around!) arrived, they set about decorating him.  I don't know how quickly it washed off, but I regret that I never got a chance to photograph him under ultra violet light.
       Thanks, 'Uncle' Rick, you contributed palpably to the fun.
       All in all, it was a fun few days and the important thing is that the girls are still enthusiastic about fountain pens and cursive writing.  And I am sure my niece Tanya, will be eternally grateful that I taught her daughters never to leave an ink bottle uncapped!

    Don't be afraid - feel free to make a comment!

Health and Mind. Fortune and Misfortune

   Despite years of studying disease, both endogenous and exogenous and with absolutely no 'Evidence Based'  Research, to support my hypothesis, a life time of medical practice has convinced me that what many people have concluded intuitively is correct.  Health and longevity are more related to how you play your hand, than the hand you have been dealt.  Attitude is a key factor in the quality of life, as well as health and longevity.  I recently listened to the biography of the celebrated author, journalist and international commentator Dr. Charles Krauthammer, who transected his cervical spine and became quadriplegic in a diving accident.  He was a medical student at the time and he commented that he knew what happened as soon as soon as he hit the water.  Not being able to  move, he thought he was going to die right there in the water, but he was pulled out and and taken to the hospital.  He knew, he said, that he was never going to  walk again or fully use his upper limbs.  Nevertheless, he decided, there and then, that he was not going to let this interfere with his life, other than in his words, in how he dealt with the force of gravity.   Ponder that for a moment.  In a situation where most people would be totally devastated,  Krauthammer, an active and athletic medical student is already planning how he is not going to let this catastrophic event decimate his life.  Ridiculous!  But he succeeded and became one of the worlds most successful, award winning journalists.
   More than half a century of medical practice has convinced me that attitude makes a huge difference.  Time and time again, I have seen people "beat the odds", almost always those with a positive view.  I have repeatedly seen folks who seem to have nothing but misfortune and bad luck refuse to let it get them down.  I have wondered how some have dealt with  misfortune I could barely imagine and still have that vital elan that is a part of their being.   Others, lacking that esprit, are often devastated by relatively minor misfortunes and set-backs, sometimes to the extent that they never recover.  Somehow, the misfortunes are translated into physical changes which are permanent.  How can that be?
    Hans Selye, the Hungarian-Canadian endocrinologist did indeed demonstrate that stress can cause physical changes including high blood pressure, immunological changes and actual changes in the brain.  The puzzling thing about this is that not all people are equally effected.  Recent research suggests that what matters is not just the level or type of stress, but how it is thought about.  It is well established that some stress is good.  In other words, the same stress can have a different effect to the extent that what is harmful to one being is beneficial to another.  Perceiving stress as a challenge rather than a threat produces psychological and physiological  responses that are very different.  "One man's stress is another man's spinach!"  
   We need to know why people like Krauthammer can deal with such catastrophe and still lead a full and meaningful life, while others disintegrate under much lesser misfortunes.  Some would say it is all in the genes, I think they are wrong.  
   It is all in the mind!  Now all we have to do is learn how to treat it.
                                                     

                                     Happy New Year!