Tuesday, 02 October 2012 23:13
By Patrice Lockert Anthony
Last year I spent about four days in the hospital, unconscious in the ICU, with a tube down my throat and main lines spilling from my body. If that doesn't make a pretty picture for you, it made an even less pretty picture for me. I have a theory or two about the cause. The air pressure changed. I probably wouldn't have felt it if something hadn't already been brewing inside my lower respiratory tract. The air pressure changed, and I could quite literally feel the shift in my lungs. I felt the corresponding pressure in my lungs shift, and I knew what it meant. I began to take corrective measures ... to no avail. I called 911. Within five minutes, I was calling again, because I was fading fast (that's asthma-speak for dying). I remember being hunched over, holding on, and trying to figure out who would call my mother in California, and tell her that her youngest child had died on a city street in Ithaca. That's not high drama; it was that bad. At that moment Fire & Rescue arrived and put oxygen on me. The ambulance was right behind. By the time they got my legs on the gurney, I was unconscious. I was told later they were unable to intubate me, or start an IV. At the hospital, in the ER, it took a few more people trying before someone was finally able to get a tube down my throat. Next crisis please. My blood pressure shot up to obscenely high digits and no meds were working to lower it. According to one of my nurses, it was the considered opinion that I would stroke out if they couldn't find the right medicine. As it turns out, the right medicine was pain medication. Main arterial lines took the place of regular IV's and a few days later I woke up when someone extubated me.
Thursday, 01 December 2011 18:26
By Joe Romano,
There's no place like home.
— Dorothy, in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, 1900
Last month's article ended with the invitation to occupy your own Main Street by buying local and building a strong and living local economy. Let's begin this month by occupying that most local of all places, our minds.
You are walking through your favorite store, perhaps your fantasy store. All around you are items that you have seen or heard of before and have wanted for yourself or for your loved ones. As you walk through this store filled with items that will entertain, uplift, ease or even sustain you, you realize that you can have just about anything in the place. How do you feel? For many, this thought would be accompanied by a feeling of elation, a distinct sense of well-being. However, this is not a dream or even a fantasy. This happens every day. Yes, it is tempered by the feeling you may have had as you imagined this scenario, the nagging worry that it was all too good to be true and even, somehow, constituted a danger. This, too, happens every day. Such is the experience of a shopper with a pocket full of credit cards in almost every store they enter.
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By Joe Romano, Marketing Manager
What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
— William Shakespeare
A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose.
— Gertrude Stein
A kilogram by any other name would weigh as much.
— Bill Nye