Ironic, Ain't It

Loyal reader and fearless commenter, Pogue, pointed out the irony inherent in this story in the comments section of an older post. And he's right, given what is going on in the US at the moment, it is rather amusing to see Canadian doctors being accused of wanting an American style structure.

Sticking with that note of irony, I must admit that that particular point hadn't really jumped out at me as being too noteworthy until Pogue mentioned it. Simply because it's really not new news. Not here in Canada anyway. This particular debate (accusations included) has been going on in Canadian political and medical circles for quite a while.

What did jump out for me from this article was this quote from Dr. Anne Doig, the new President of the Canadian Medical Association:

"It’s not about choosing between an American system or a Canadian system," said Doig. "The whole thing is about looking at what other people do."

"That’s called looking at the evidence, looking at how care is delivered and how care is paid for all around us (and) then saying ‘Well, OK, that’s good information. How do we make all of that work in the Canadian context? What do the Canadian people want?’"

Ironically enough (again), the reason that particular piece tripped my radar was the thought that this was exactly what I have (repeatedly) being trying to say to my American friends (in various formats) in the context of their current healthcare debate.

Namely, that I hope their country as a whole will wake up and see how very lucky they are at the moment in having the opportunity to look at various systems around the world. To see what works and what doesn't. And pull together the best of the best practices to create a uniquely new, uniquely American system that works for them.

Do I think that will actually happen? At this point?

Not so much. But this is one girl that just keeps dreaming.

And who knows? Maybe us Canucks will even learn a thing or two in the process. Now, wouldn't that be ironic!

"A taste for irony has kept more hearts from breaking
than a sense of humor, for it takes irony to appreciate
the joke which is on oneself".
~ Jessamyn West

Signs of Things to Come?

Even with our new NDP government officially sworn in here in Nova Scotia, I was finding it hard to get too excited. Perhaps I have become more cynical than even I had realized. Perhaps I was just politicked out.

And although I still wouldn't put myself in the category of "excited", there have been a couple of neat things a'happening recently.

For example, I was very pleasantly surprised to see this story concerning the provincial government's initiative to provide "eligible caregivers" in Nova Scotia with financial assistance to the tune of $400 per month to "recognize their important role and support their efforts to assist loved ones and friends". Unless and until one has been there, it's difficult to realize just how draining and demanding that role can be; physically, mentally and financially.

As I was to note that, in my absence, the Province has finally gotten around to launching the long-promised HealthLink 811 program which will enable Nova Scotians to be connected 24/7 via telephone with "an experinced registered nurse" who, we are assured, will be able to "assess the urgency of the caller's symptoms or health condition and advise them on the next steps, such as appropriate self-care, or to seek services from a family physician or another health-care provider, or to visit an emergency department". Meaning it looks like Nova Scotia has finally reached the cutting edge of healthcare given that similar programs have been available for quite a while in other provinces. It's about time, eh?

Last, but certainly not least, our newly-minted Nova Scotia government has lowered the amount of the application fee under the Freedom of Information and Protection of Privacy Act from $25 to $5. Many of the fees under the Act were dramatically increased when the Conservatives were in power and, despite their own recommendations to the contrary, they were never dropped. Hopefully this will at least somewhat lessen Nova Scotia's dubious distinction as having the highest fees fees in the nation for access to information requests and appeals.

But more importantly, hopefully all of this is but a sign of more good things to come. Hey, a girl can always dream, can't she?

A Life Well Lived

Two weeks. No newspapers. No TV news. Only the occasional dose of Lex.

It's amazing how cut off from the world you can feel while away on vacation. I commented the other day that the entire world outside a 100 mile radius could have ended and I might not have noticed.

But as I slowly begin to make my way back into the land of the living (pun somewhat intended) today, I note the passing of Eunice Kennedy Shriver. In all honesty, not something likely to raise much comment from me. Until I realized her legacy, that is. As one of the key founders of the Special Olympics.

Regular readers well know the special place the Games hold in my heart. As if that could ever be in any doubt...

So thank you, Ms. Shriver.

Whatever else you may accomplished in your time, this, alone, is enough to make me and my family eternally grateful.

Dear Mom

I miss you so much and some days it hurts so bad I think I will never survive. But I know I will because you would expect no less.

You would tell me that I have a family to think of, who need me to take care of them. And, of course, you’re right.

You would also say that my being sad and crying over you is the last thing in the world you want. You would tell me you want me to live my life, enjoy it and be happy. That I will never doubt. I promise you I will do my best.

You gave me so much. You were my go to person. My rock. Both emotionally and financially. Who do you go to when your go to person is gone? Quite frankly, I’m still trying to figure that out.

You were and are a wonderful mother and an amazing grandmother. We were all so very blessed to have you in our lives. From all the time you spent in the hospital with your one granddaughter to all the hugs, kisses and unconditional love you lavished on the other, to always being there for me, I don’t know how I would have ever survived those early days without you.

I just wish I could have done more for you. I know I had no choice but to put you in the hospital when I did, but how I wish I could have given you what you so desperately wanted and needed and kept you home longer. Please never forget, never doubt how much you were and are loved.

In all honesty, I don’t know what to think. I don’t know whether I will ever see you again or not. But whatever may be, I will never, ever stop holding you in my heart. They say that someday I will be able to think of you, remember the happy times and just smile. I would like to believe that, I really would. In the meantime, I will just remember you and try to smile through my tears.

And I know you will be waiting for that day when you can rejoin Dad, when death will be no more, neither will mourning, nor outcry nor pain be any more, for the former things have passed away.

Until then. I love you, Mom. Always and forever.

B'Gosh

I do believe I'm in love.

That's all.

Go West Young Woman

Which could be sub-titled "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly".

Sunday be the day we pack up the family and head out. West, that is. I'm not so sure about swimming pools and movie stars but rumour has it that my brother is the proud owner of a new hot tub. Which is always a good thing, me thinks.

We are flying out to Manitoba to visit my brother for a few days, driving down to Osh Kosh for the world's best air show (or so I am told), back to my brother's for a day, then onwards to my hometown in Saskatchewan. Which, you could say, we will have fun, fun, fun until we get there. Because that is where we will bury my Mom's ashes next to Dad. Then back to my brother's for a bit before we return home. Two weeks in all, give or take a day or two.

Hence the subtitle.

So I'm really looking forward to some parts of it. And others, not so much.

Although I'm valiantly attempting to convince myself that this 'second funeral', so to speak, will be a good thing in that this one will be much less formal and will give us more of an opportunity to do some things we might have wanted to do the first time but didn't couldn't.

Like give any among us who might be so moved a chance to get up and speak, for example. Which both the Kit Kat and the Blue Jay plan to do. As does their mother. Still, not exactly something I'm looking forward to, if you know what I mean.

But a vacation (of sorts) is still a vacation, I suppose. No small feat these days. Especially for the family who never strays too far from home.

So wish us luck. Send us good vibes. And most importantly, keep us in your thoughts and prayers, please.

Oh yeah, don't forget to come back in a few weeks. Well, come back before then if you like. You never know when or where I may just drop a post. But we'll be back home the second week in August. Hope to see you here then.

Y'all come back now, ya hear?

The Beauty of the Games

The beauty of the Special Olympics isn't found in the ceremony and pageantry. It's not in the visiting dignitaries or those waiting to be introduced on the main stage. It's not even in the medals (purty as they are).

No, the beauty of the Games lies in the fact that it's the one place in this world of so-called "normal" that these youths and adults not only get to just be themselves but are celebrated for being themselves. Where, for once, they are not trying to 'fit in' to what everyone else thinks is acceptable, appropriate behaviour. It's the one time a year when they are celebrated for who they are. And celebrate they do.

I will never forget the first time I attended the Games, three years ago. The one thing that struck me so much on that occasion was how every single athlete was roundly cheered through to the finish. How that very last swimmer, who could still be a very long way behind after his fellow athletes had finished the heat, was still cheered just as heartily on to victory as was the first-place finisher. Cheered on to his victory.

And yet it's not just the athletes who flourish in such an environment. Rereading one of my favourite books this past weekend, I came across what struck me as the perfect words to describe why the Special Olympics are so vital, not just for the athletes but also for their families.

In the chapter aptly-titled "Acceptance", Barbara Gillis writes:

We all need people who see us as good and competent parents and who do not blame us for wrong is 'wrong' and difficult about our child. We all need places to go where people look past the fact that our child doesn't talk or doesn't respond to our directions. We need people who admire his physical beauty and his curiosity, or who recognize how clever he is in his mischief. We all need to go where our family is accepted as it is, and delight is taken in us and each of our children. And we all need people who show us the way, leading us by their example to the confidence or pride we have been struggling for. An ounce of this love can offset a pound of criticism and hostility. In its presence we open up like a day lily to the sun. If it isn't there, we have to find it...

The day lily survives the night, closing its bloom, protecting itself until morning, when it again shows its fullness to the sun. We can protect ourselves and exist in the places where people deny our child and us the sun of acceptance, approval or praise. But we and our child must have our sun. We must have people who shine on us and places where we can relax, open and grow.

This past weekend the Blue Jay and our family basked in the warmth of the sun. There are no better words to describe it.

Cross-posted on A Primer on Special Needs and The Law

Off To The Games

We're off to Special Olymnpic Summer Games this weekend. And hope to make a big splash. So wish the Blue Jay luck, please.

And, in the meantime, I leave you this.



To keep both your spirits and your energy up.
Sheesh, I should have half as much of either.

Maybe I need more water?

H/T to Kris for the video link

No Dogma, No Doctrine, Just Faith

Which is what I am sorely in need of at the moment.

At first I thought that perhaps I had been so focused on rejecting anything even remotely resembling dogma or doctrine in my life for so long that I had cast aside faith at the same time. But then I realized that wasn't quite so. That irregardless of dogma or doctrine, I have no faith. None.

That wasn't always so. As a pre-teen, likely into my early teen years, I had a very strong faith. A very strong belief in and love of God; a deep, sure knowledge of what He wanted from me and an absolute desire to live my life that way. And, in return, I knew the final result. I knew that He promised would come to pass. Wasn't life simple then?

But that was before I drifted away from the Witnesses. Away from the Witnesses, but towards nothing else, I guess.

Yes, I believe in God. Yes, I believe that He sent his son, Jesus Christ, to earth to die for our sins. Yes, I believe the Bible is God's word. The problem is that it all seems to end there. That although I do, honestly, *believe* all that, it seems to have no connection to my life. That what I know with certainly in my "head" does not resonate in my "heart".

Okay, it may not be quite that simple, not quite that cut and dried, but it's close enough for the purposes of this post.

As a child, I was taught that "Faith is the assured expectation of things hoped for". And yet, over the course of the last several years, I have come to believe that hope is bad for the soul.

Born out of the Blue Jay's health issues, I learned that when you actually begin to hope for something, you truly begin to believe that it might just be true. And then, when you find out otherwise, it's devastating. But if you have no hope, if you expect nothing, anything good that comes your way is gravy. A blessing. Something to be treasured and appreciated. All up the up, none of the down.

When Mom was so sick in the hospital last year, I struggled with the concept of "hope". Or, more accurately, with the idea that there could be some form of good, some form of hope, to be found in the situation. That there was even any point, any value, in looking for any.

I recall reading one of the books the palliative care team provided me, entitled "Finding Hope" and mulling over a blog post on the subject. The book that promised to help me find and nurture hope in my life came up short.

But to cut to the chase (a little too late for that, I suppose), the bottom line is that I have no faith that I will ever see my Mom again. It's not just that I don't believe I will ever see her again. It's that I believe I will never see her again.

And that ... that just hurts. Indescribably so.

In a few weeks, we will take a trip out West to visit my brother, do some traveling and then, finally, bury my Mom's ashes next to Dad. And as that time draws closer, I am left with a renewed sense of overwhelming longing and loss.

This, my friends, is not closure. It's agony, pure and simple.

It's life without hope faith.

Quintessentially Canadian

I had been following this story in the newspaper over the last few days but never bothered to go find the YouTube video until a friend emailed the link.

Now having viewed the vid, I have no choice but to blog it. Not because I particularly like the song (it's a little too country for me) but because it's so quintessentially Canadian.



Some people, they say, get mad.

And some, they say, get even.

But Canadians, well, we'll get even eventually. In a round-about sneaky nice kind of way. When and how you least suspect it.

Just ask United ... $3,000 later. After all, doing the right thing and repairing the guitar in the first place would have only cost them $1,200.

But all is not lost for United. Apparently, the video is now going to be one of their training tools. According to Rob Bradford, managing director of customer solutions at United, “It could be used to improve the way passengers are treated around the world”. You think?

One Taylor guitar ... $3,500

Repairs for said guitar ... $1,200

Amount of United's donation to the Thelonious Monk Institute of Jazz ... $3,000

Publicity generated for Dave Caroll's band (after over 2,000,000 hits on YouTube) and the sight of United's mad scramble to save it's public face ... Priceless!

Ooh La La

Why is it that every time the kids go away for a few days ... I feel like I'm on an instant vacation?

No matter how busy my week might be, no worries about what I might actually need to get done while they're away. Forget the fact that my own vacation isn't until the end of the month.

It's instant vacation. Vacation-in-a-bottle, like.













And now? Now, I'm heading off for a nap.

Just because. I. Can.

An Open Letter to Mr. Harper

Dear Mr. Harper,

Please find below my suggestion for fixing Canada's economy. Instead of giving billions of dollars to banks and car companies, that will squander the money on lavish parties and unearned bonuses, use the following plan:

There are about 20 million people over 50 in the work force. Pay them $1 million apiece severance for early retirement with the following stipulations:

1) They MUST retire. Twenty million job openings - Unemployment fixed.

2) They MUST buy a new Canadian CAR. Twenty million cars ordered - Auto Industry fixed.

3) They MUST either buy a house or pay off their mortgage - Housing Crisis fixed.

4) They must send their kids to school / college /university - Crime rate fixed

5) Buy $50 of alcohol / tobacco / petrol a week... there's your money back in duty / tax etc

It can't get any easier than that!

P.S. If more money is needed, have all members of parliament pay back their falsely claimed expenses and second home allowances.

H/T to Kathleen